#bethevoid

DR. DOG TONIGHT! Man, I love this band...last time I saw them was in September at the Williamsburg Waterfront, opening for Bright Eyes. Tonight they headline Terminal 5 in support of Be the Void. For those without tickets, don't fret, the band will perform tonight on Jimmy Fallon. For festival junkies, Dr. Dog will be making stops at Beal Street, Hangout Fest, Friendly Gathering and Forecastle.

Check out my review of Be the Void in Elmore's March/April issue below; I was lucky enough to chat with bassist Toby Leaman who sheds some light.

For retro, psychedelic, Philly-bred Dr. Dog’s seventh album, bona fide rock gets the attention it deserves. Known for cheery pop arrangements and harmonies, Be The Void reveals a hungrier energy, biting hard with its poised unruliness and a simplicity of intention, resonating with memories of jam sessions in a frugal Philly rehearsal room. “We were fearless weirdoes in a basement,” recalls lead vocalist Scott McMicken. “Scott and I were living together and we recorded at night and it was fun,” says bassist Toby Leaman. “We were recording for ourselves, but sometimes that freedom is taken for granted.” Luckily, Be The Void revisits infinite possibilities the band had previously been waiving. “We always preferred pianos and organs,” says Leaman, “guitars were just accents and we could never get their proper sound.” But once sixth member Eric Slick (drums) entered the fold, he brought along Daddy’s guitar collection and a certain void was filled.

The album insists towards the positive, apparent on the blues-infused “Lonesome,” an antithetical response to Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” Call and response lyrics ask, “What does it take to be lonesome? Nothing at all.” Similarly, “That Old Black Hole” smiles in the face of adversity. A confident thread binds the songs throughout, predominately on “These Days,” where overdub avoidance epitomizes Dr. Dog’s telepathic live interaction. Continuous emotional roller-coasting sound continues on “How Long Must I Wait,” which warps an upbeat Calypso-infusion with startling staccato fuzzed riffs. Or the searing electricity found on “Vampire,” biting hard before cajoling with delicate organs, a perfect representation of that soulless person who constantly shits on you, but in this twisted way, you want them, badly. Heavy laden guitars supported by catchy choruses lend for an easy listen throughout and the signature sitar on closer “Turning the Century” spins on a dime from the ’70s, refuting false presumptions that rock is dead.

Hovering over the fringes of musical fields, Dr. Dog is not chained to any specific genre, but once, as they put it, guitars “stopped being problematic and started becoming exciting,” it’s apparent that rock ‘n’ roll is their strong suit.