By Cam Delisle
The Montreal DJ blends moods, genres, and raw bass to create unmissable dance floor moments.
In the backyard of his former residence in Ville St. Laurent, a Montréal suburb, singer/songwriter Gabe Eisner and his roommates had a neglected inflatable pool that turned into a mosquito hatchery. We can imagine Eisner sitting in the pool, with all of life’s complexities swarming around him and hatching anew. This is where the experiences and ideas that make up his latest album, Visions of Domestic Tranquillity slowly fermented.
VODT strives to show you a simple slice of life. A timelapse of a year inside a house where Eisner’s life, ideas about himself and his relationships grew within the influence of the elements around him. His observations range from pleasant musings over shining bowls of fruit to deeply depressing reflections on loneliness and grief, but what he does best is place the listener in the pool beside him, casting an intimate illumination into a year of vignettes.
Eisner has home-recorded 15 albums in the last 10 years. Prior to VODT, he kept his prolific catalogue confined to the ears of random Bandcamp users who stumbled upon his work. Eisner’s allowance of time to pass before he started sharing his music more openly has helped to shape his sound into something more secular; something that feeds directly off of the environment immediately around him more than it feeds off of ego, expectations, and finance.
VOTD sounds as if a cloud of Elliott Smith, Sparklehorse, and Yo La Tengo influence showered over Eisner’s inflatable pool. His lo-fi vocals are close and intimate and they float along chord patterns that feel like a moment where all of the serenity, angst and melancholy in life coalesce. Catchiness, innate profundity, and an accessible nature make VOTD an album suited for all ears.
How’d you get started in music?
I started playing guitar when I was 10 cause I felt like I needed to be Queens of the Stone Age, and so I remember I tried learning how to play their music on my only a nylon string guitar and it sounded terrible. Around the same time I had this dream that I was browsing my own MySpace page and I had an album posted on there that I listened to in the dream. It was like a premonition. I found me from the future.
What did it sound like?
Basically like the music I’m making now. I think it was more alt-rock and twee, but that was a moment where I felt I had the capacity to make music since I was conjuring songs.
I didn’t know you were a big QOTSA guy.
Yeah, then they released this EP in 2007 that had this cover of Elliott Smith’s “Christian Brothers” and I thought it was the best song they’d ever made, and then I realised it’s not theirs. From there I was completely committed to listening to only Elliott Smith. He really sparked an interest in learning more singer/songwriter music.
Would you say Elliott Smith is your biggest influence?
Yeah I think his influence show’s itself more clearly in my music than anyone else. I taught myself how to play guitar by learning his songs and I think at this point his style of playing is pretty inextricable from my understanding of what a guitar even is.
How did VOTD come together?
It started with an exercise of writing about the house we were living in. I realised later it was kind of stupid but then I realised that they were all incidental metaphors, so I kind of just accidentally started writing about people and relationships again. Turns out everything is a metaphor and it’s next to impossible to write about a room and not have it be about you.
What’s a good example of something in your house turning into metaphor?
On “Three Tiers,” my roommate had one piece of art with her that she put up in the kitchen, a black and white photograph of the New York skyline with the World Trade Center standing tall. The chorus on that song ends with “a picture of the world trade” which is just a literal description of a thing in a room but it’s also this foreboding symbol that perhaps captures an anxiety about the foundation of our new house. That’s about the time I realised everything is a metaphor.
What about the squirrels on the album cover?
Those are all squirrels that I fed. Actually the song “Come to My Window,” you’d think it’s like a late night sexy song, but it’s actually about feeding squirrels and having a hard time saying no to them when they kept coming to the window in the morning.
What held you back for so long from promoting your music?
I just have this feeling that releasing art is narcissistic, and I’m probably wrong about that, but I’ve really made it to be a much more insidious thing for some reason. I don’t really know how to value what I do because it’s just a thing that I do. I’m not trying to make it seem like what I’m doing is really important. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with this. Music is just a totally solitary activity that I can do without anything but my body. I feel like whenever I’m working on music I’m really present, but I’m also just in some other place. It’s kinda like a healthier form of just mindlessly watching reels.
Why was this album the one you decided to promote more publicly?
I think this new record builds on everything I love about songwriting while not trying to up the ante or showboat. Seems as good a record as any to step out with.
Listen to Visions of Domestic Tranquility here
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