Dan Mangan and I are walking down Commercial Drive, one of the most vibrant neighbourhoods in Vancouver, BC. Its beating heart lies in its cultural and socioeconomic diversity and abundance of amenities including playgrounds where, as a father, he spends much of his time.

Though Mangan was born in Smithers, BC, he and his family lived in Vancouver until he was six, when his parents divorced. He and his mother returned eight years later, after living throughout Ontario. Six years ago, Mangan, his wife, and their children moved to the Drive, the scene of his formative musical years.

“Back in the day, when I was starting out, [Commercial Drive] is where a lot of music was happening. The poetry scene was huge here. I’d play house concerts around here. We’d gather at Jess Hill‘s house.”

As we pass by Cafe Deux Soleil, a beloved restaurant and community art space, Mangan says, “I remember seeing poetry slams and open mics here and thinking, ‘I hope I can play here sometime.’ I remember seeing the Fugitives and Shane Koyczan performing here.” After 28 years, Cafe Deux Soleil announced its permanent closure two days before our conversation.

Mangan grapples with this sort of loss—of whoever or whatever stands as your compass—on his sixth solo LP, Being Somewhere. Despite feeling isolated and helpless, the album’s protagonists are always spirited back towards hope. In defiance of life’s fleeting nature, Being Somewhere is a reminder to appreciate what you have before it’s gone, like his cherished memories of Cafe Deux Soleil.

Produced by Drew Brown (Radiohead, Beck), Being Somewhere is built on sparse, fluttering arrangements of warm synth pads, swirling electronics, knotty percussion, and ephemeral harps. Mangan calls Brown’s insistence on simplicity “ruthless” but acknowledges that it allows the songs to breathe, adding subtlety that encourages listeners to lean forward and pay attention to the music.

Mangan began writing Being Somewhere in 2018. The album took two-and-a-half years to complete because the pandemic forced him and Brown, who’s based in Chicago, to work via long distance. Mangan admits the recording process was “pandemic-y,” and though Being Somewhere ruminates on loneliness and fear, to call the album a pandemic record would be reductive; those emotions are evergreen.

As an antidote, Being Somewhere drives home the point that it’s cool to care about others. “There is a tenderness in the zeitgeist; for example, people talking about having safe spaces and taking mental health breaks and cancelling their tours because of mental health,” Mangan says, noting a sea change in public attitude.