The Narcotix bends time and space on Dying
Is time a social construct? How do we process the act of personal transformation? What is life after death? These are just some of the questions that Brooklyn art-rock band The Narcotix puts forth on their debut album Dying. Founded by composers/multi-instrumentalists Esther Quansah and Becky Foinchas, along with Matt Bent (drums), Jesse Heasly (bass), and Adam Turay (guitar), The Narcotix blends West African polyrhythms and choral arrangements to create transcendent psychedelic art-rock. The album encompasses ideas about life, death, and beyond.
The songs on Dying have a long and rich history. Trading voice notes, sometimes across countries, Quansah and Foinchas began slowly building it out into a fully formed project. “It culminated over the years. I remember receiving a Logic file of a guitar riff. Eight bars of something that blossomed into what you hear today,” Becky says. “Some of these we've been performing for years, but they took on a new life when it was recorded with [album engineer] Colin [Mohnacs].” She continues, “We bid adieu or whatever they say. We did the songs justice by getting them recorded because they were so good.” Songs like “The Maiden” and “The Sun” are some of the oldest material on the album, with “The Lovers” and “The Child” written in a Mexican jungle in 2021.
Quansah and Foinchas have been friends for years. “Becky and I grew up [together]. We met when we were eight years old. We went to every school together: elementary, middle, high, and college, which was toxic really,” Esther says sarcastically. Their bond is clear in the vocal arrangements of their work. Their harmonies are never a battle, but more of a dance. “Sometimes I will write parts where I'm like ‘Becky, can you sing this?’ because I recognize her instrument is so distinct and different than mine. Sometimes we can have these visions for each other–or even something that will marry our own hurt in a very beautiful way.” The way their voices interconnect is also a result of their compositional methods. “When we were in high school, we were in choir together. The way that we create is–we're thinking through a choral lens.” The pair’s experience in vocal arrangements also comes from their time in a rock a capella group. “We had to arrange music for the group. This was really formative. It was amazing. Now we're arranging, literally writing parts for voice that are supposed to be instruments,” Esther explains of their musical notation work.
Part of what sets The Narcotix apart is that their songs do not follow the traditional form. The pair finds a standard structure hard to engage in. “I've tried to sit down and be like, ‘I'm gonna write a song about this.’ It's really difficult,” Esther says. “I respect people who can do that.” Instead, they let the instruments speak for themselves. “The history of our music has been making the instruments the voice,” Becky explains. “Being particular about how we tell a story through the bass or the drums. The drums, for instance, such a mathematical instrument, is now used to bend time and to bend the tones.” Their songwriting method is to lean into experimentation, later working out ideas and then capturing that magic in the studio. “It’s us starting with a riff of some sort–whether it be piano, guitar, usually guitar, bass. Because we're always moving, it gets passed. We can be down the street and it is still getting passed back and forth. Then we'll go and meet in the studio and just have an exorcism,” Becky comments on their process.
While the duo puts emphasis on the music, their lyrics become more of a free flowing narrative. “The instrumentals inform the lyrics. It's a lot of nursery rhyme-type stuff–mocking, taunting–playing along with something that bass is doing. If the bass is doing something haunting and creepy, then It's like ‘What if we wrote a children's song over this?’” The juxtaposition of nursery rhymes and la la la’s over complex rhythms and psychedelic-folk music creates tension across the album. It also creates moments of joy and innocence. In the opening track “The Mother” they interpolate lyrics from the nursery rhyme “Le Coq Chante” adding a sense of curiosity. In “The Sun” whispers create an underlying anxiety, while the use of la la la’s on “The Maiden” go from meditative to dizzying, building up into explosive cries. Mohnacs weaves in elements of later tracks early on and vice versa creating a foreshadowing and referential effect. “Colin understands our language and our world,” Esther says. The compositional work, vocal arrangements, and lyrical content turn Dying into a sonic wonderland.
Dying is a follow-up to their EP Mommy Issues. According to Quansah and Foinchas, that release was more pop-oriented. “Some of the songs are a little more accessible on Mommy Issues—verse-chorus-verse,” Esther reflects. “With Dying, we made it a point to work on transitioning, because that's something that we do. We transition from one part to the next. All of a sudden, you're in a whole new place. Figuring out how to work on the gluing, instead of trying to make something that's verse-chorus-verse-chorus.” The result of that work is a remarkable album that morphs from one thing to the next along the way.
The album’s intrinsic flow, along with a 12/8 time signature that keeps us moving along, was modeled after life from the time of birth. As Becky explains, “The process of dying is birth, and there are nine songs. There were three songs for the birth, then life, and then death. We also called it ignorance, then doing the work, and then illumination or enlightenment. It ended up working where the album conceived itself like that, in that order.” That sequence reflects the emotional ups and downs from the time of birth to life after death. Esther adds, “It's much easier for us to think of—this would be a strong last song, and this would be a strong first song. How do we want to introduce people into this world? Or leave them? You'll hear ‘The Magician,’ the scariest song, in my opinion. It feels right to leave people on that note because there are breaths at the end. There's more. It's not death, it's dying. It's a process. There’s more after that,” she offers. From selflessness to battling our ego, the songs are an exploration of the many facets we each go through.
The cover artwork is by Mexican artist Mareano Ruiz Rosillo. (@base.lunar)
Working on the album over the years contributed to its form. Writing and recording were impacted by the personal changes and challenges that the duo faced, on top of COVID. “It was definitely a funny time,” Becky explains. “Quitting jobs, existential crises, awakenings, break-ups, falling in love, all happened during either the recording [and] writing–falling into addiction, falling out of addiction.” Esther adds, “near-death experiences” to the list. Becky is reminded and stresses “Near death. Death. Dying.” It adds up.
At times, Dying is haunting. Other times, it is ebullient. It moves from one emotion to the next without warning. It is about asking questions such as Where am I? What is my purpose? It’s about trying to understand our place in the natural world and beyond. On Dying, The Narcotix taps into a visceral energy. A power that can’t be faked or forced. Instead, it requires being in touch with your inner self. It takes work. It is a process. That is dying.
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