#no devotion interview

“It’s like a blessing and a curse,” explains Geoff Rickly, smiling on the Zoom window a bit sadly. “When you really love an album, you can’t wait for people to hear it… but (you’re) also set up to have your heart broken because they won’t love it as much as you do.”

“Right now, to me, it’s my favorite record in the world,” he continues. “But soon it’ll come out, and for some people, it’ll just be a blip, and (they’ll) think it’s not for me, and that’s how it is.”

The record in discussion at the moment is the second, unexpected album from No Devotion, a band that emerged from the ashes of horrible tragedy and released my favorite album of 2015. And not to stomp on Rickly’s genuine humility, but No Oblivion is much more than a blip for some, an album that many people did not think would ever get made, Rickly included. The fire reignited when guitarist Stu Richardson sent Rickly a demo for their rousing, intense first single, “Starlings.”

“I was obsessed with it,” he recalls. “I didn’t’ think I was going to do anything with it, but whenever it rained, and I’d take a cab—when people were still taking cabs in New York—I’d put it on in the back of the cab and think, ‘This is the kind of music I wish I was making right now.’”

They ruminated various plans for the song, but ultimately decided that it should be a No Devotion song after the magic they felt when they played it with guitarist Lee Gaze.

“We thought, maybe we’re not done with No Devotion yet,” Rickly says, shrugging with a big smile.

The haunting result is a refined collection of eight harmonious songs that returns to the art of the album where every single song is there, in that spot, and in that order, for a very good reason that was discussed at length.

But most importantly, it’s the first album, in nearly 30 years as an artist, that Rickly has been sober and made a piece of work with vulnerability and cobalt beauty aching from every line sang by the shadowy artist whose voice has never sounded stronger, more gripping. This is from an artist who already captivates listeners and audiences around the world, an insatiable creator whose beautiful words and melodies and screams have gotten many of a sufferer through dark times—myself included.

And while they wrote much more than eight tracks for their second record, No Devotion kept returning the original songs which were created during an intense two-week flurry of creativity when the trio reunited. (There’s also a record’s worth of 10 songs that he “loves” but kept off of No Oblivion and is still deciding what their fate will be.)

“We thought it was a really short record, but every song we added would throw off the balance… making it too long and too dark, or if we brightened it up with a big pop song like from the first record (Permanence), it didn’t fit and kind of ruined the mood.”

Rickly is mostly known for his visionary work in Thursday who is still playing shows, but not ready to create new music.

“The reason I think No Devotion kept going is because Stu and Lee and I have this really intense ability to know what each other’s thinking and push in the same direction for a song—it makes writing a real pleasure,” he says. “With Thursday, we all see it going in different directions and writing a song is like a street fight. Every single time.”

He laughs.

“So the fact that Thursday is working at all right now and playing shows and having fun and loving each other and getting along, is such a newer development,” he admits. “I wish I was joking. We all love each other, which is the crazy thing.”

What’s behind the album title and the second track, “No Oblivion” come from?

Well, we had this song first and I think a lot about this band in visual terms—for every song, there’s different projections, and I think there’s going to be a video for every song on this record… My partner’s a director, so we work on a lot of stuff together. I was thinking about how much I would love to have a song that’s just a list… a list of “nos” and see how that played out.

So that was how the song came about, and we kept on playing with versions of the album cover that were just the words for the No Oblivion song, and the graphic designer mentioned why “No Oblivion” works so well typographically is because it’s the same number of letters as No Devotion, the band name, so all there were all sorts of possibilities that opened up; we thought maybe we shouldn’t keep it as the cover art and make it the name of the record. Then we thought about what the title No Oblivion implies, and it seemed to really fit.

What does it imply for you?

A double-negative is sort of like a gesture towards the positive…so a rejection of nihilism or a rejection of death and drug use. The years before I started working on this record were pretty dark for me, and this is first music I’ve made sober. I’m almost five years in, so this a really raw experience for me.

Congratulations on five years—That’s big.

Thanks, it’s coming up in November.

Is it a lot different writing music sober? Is it harder?

I’ve heard a lot of people talk about how it’s harder to let go, but I found it to be quite the opposite for me—That for me it’s harder to reign it in. I’m feeling a lot more clearly, and I have to be careful about sculpting them into something that’s art and not just an outpouring of feeling.

We do want our art to have artifice because that’s where you lose yourself in it. There’s this idea that’s become popular in culture: for the performer to use masks so that they can lose themselves and become who they really are. I think there’s a certain element of that in lyrics and songwriting… if you can use a device or structure or something that makes it not just your incredibly specific life experience, then not only can the listener find themselves more clearly in the emotional experience—because it’s more oblique and they can find an entry point—but as a singer and as an artist, you can find yourself more clearly in it.

When we try to say exactly how we feel, I think it’s very easy to misrepresent ourselves. Whereas if we try to make it a little more oblique, then it finds us through a more subconscious route… I think, quite often, it is much more honest than being honest.

With this honesty and your sobriety, how therapeutic was making this record for you?

The most therapeutic thing for me since I got sober is being of service to people… so sponsoring other guys, setting up chairs. A lot of the most mundane tasks can become quite therapeutic when they’re done in service of something greater than yourself. So, I really found that to be my therapy. With (the album), I found it to be more therapeutic in the sense that in the past, I’ve always been quite self-conscious of my own ability… I’m known as a singer who’s tone deaf or can’t sing—it’s a criticism that I’ve heard for a lot of my life.

I don’t necessarily disagree, but I also recognize that there’s something that I communicate that seems to resonate with people and that’s why I’ve been able to do this for 25 years. There have been so many better singers than I am, technically, who don’t have careers and will never have careers. twenty-five years in popular music is like a unicorn. (laughs) It’s all about youth. I think it used to really eat me that I couldn’t put my finger on what it was I did, whether I was just incredibly lucky or if I actually had any talent or not. This record was a real turning point for me where I realized that I can sing; I do have talent; I do know what I’m doing… I now trust myself that I have the kind of taste that I want to hear.

I don’t expect everyone to see the world how I see it, and I don’t like stuff other people like. I’m kind of a hater. (laughs) I’m a real, old-school hater, and I don’t like that about myself but whatever—I just try not to be too much. (laughs)

This record sounds like a new beginning in a way.

Yeah, it’s basically a new band and starting from scratch. When we started Permanence, it was less of a new band because all of the artists involved had such a following, and that’s changed. It’s a different time, a different world; people aren’t waiting to see what Geoff from Thursday does next because Thursday’s still going. It’s just a whole different dynamic.

I’m just really appreciating everything I’ve been given… just being able to have a life as an artist at all. I’ve had 30-plus years of a career as musician. How many people in this capitalist world get to even have one job, regardless of it being rewarding? So I feel ok about whatever comes next.

So then are you feeling more content these days?