How do you make a deadly serious topic playful?
The Fugitives wanted to write No Help Coming about the climate emergency. And took their learnings from the months of research they had done for their last album, Trench Songs (JUNO and CFMA nominated), that centered on WW1 soldier songs. These songs were as humorous as they were harrowing.
“It was the voice of people in the thick of things,” says Brendan McLeod, one-half of The Fugitives’ songwriting duo. “All the reading we did around the climate lacked this kind of playfulness. Part of that is the seriousness of the topic, but another part seemed like a lack of immediacy. That society still doesn’t feel, or talk, or act, like we’re in it.”
No Help Coming constantly reminds us that we’re in it. The normal human stuff takes place–fraught friendships (“Dead Money”), career changes (“Wing and a Prayer”), coping mechanisms (“Not Burning Out”), romance (“It Might Just Rain Like This For Days”)—but all under the spectre of environmental disaster.
“There’s still a tendency to create in a vacuum,” says Adrian Glynn, The Fugitives' other songwriter. “To write a love song as if our province wasn’t engulfed in smoke. Or, to write just about that smoke, and not about being in love at the same time as you’re breathing it in.”
By combining climate concerns with everyday concerns, No Help Coming grapples with a global phenomenon through the personal lenses of its four members–Brendan McLeod, Adrian Glynn, violinist Carly Frey and banjo player Chris Suen–and they tracked the record accordingly. The band plays every instrument, except percussion and an organ. Everyone sings lead at some point; background at others. Thanks to Vancouver producer, Tom Dobrzanski, the overall sound is highly polished, but there are also live off-the-floor takes, song snippets from jam sessions, and voice memo recordings. These elements keep it real, raw and, well, human.
The result is an upbeat album that’s both cautionary and uplifting. “Leading up to the recording, we asked environmental experts what was missing from the conversation,” says McLeod. “And they all said the same thing: no more sad songs. We know the world’s messed up. What’s missing are more invitations to get real about making changes. And to do that, we have to get less precious about the subject.”
No Help Coming is more playful than precious. This makes sense, after all the climate emergency is not about the survival of the planet, which will be just fine without us (“After You’re Gone”, “Ash”), but the survival of humanity.
“It’s an album about resolve,” says Glynn. “It’s upbeat because there’s a lot of resolve to be found in joy. And while humans have a lot of bad things going for us, we can be pretty great at the joy part. So, let’s use it.”