by Conor Lochrie (@conornoconnor)
Chicago trio Dehd formed in 2014 with drummer Eric McGrady joining a flowering romantic relationship between Emily Kempf and Jason Balla. While that couple didn’t last, the band has, their third album Flower Of Devotion being released on Fire Talk Records.
Kempf and Bella broke up in 2017 and their previous LP, Water, was recorded soon afterwards, being released in 2019, and this suddenness was reflected in the heartbreaking and fractured songwriting. It’s a further year on now and romance and relationships are still on the band’s mind but more distance has brought a greater sense of healing and acceptance. Flower Of Devotion is a healthy reckoning with the ending of a relationship that perhaps only time affords. On “Flying,” Kempf asks “Am I in heaven or in hell? / I can’t tell,” and the rest of the album ponders this from all angles.
Knowing about the background of the band, the proximity of Dehd’s loud and earnest rock to Fleetwood Mac’s sound seems eerie. That band’s 1977 classic album Rumours documented the dissolution of several of their member’s romantic relationships, notably Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nick’s breakup, but there’s a slight difference in the substance of Dehd’s album. Where Rumours was tense and fractious, its songs bruised and raw, Flower Of Devotion offers a more positive and understanding outlook.
Dehd’s hearty indie-rock merges different rock eras, with the aforementioned similarity to Fleetwood Mac in its ‘70s folk-rock, more straightforward ‘60s guitar pop, and ‘80s reverb-dripped indie that owes much to Jesus and Mary Chain and Cocteau Twins. As is often the case with a third album, the production levels have been raised. The sounds of Flower Of Devotion are glossier and crisper, the raw qualities of their indie-rock both softened and rounded. The new lushness will be more inviting to the casual listener but the basic premise of Dehd’s music is kept to satiate long-time followers. The arrangements remain simple in style but this isn’t a weakness for Dehd: the trio trust their process, their output, and the details and intrigue come from the twin vocals that power the record; the dynamism and honesty shared between Kempf and Balla is startling and refreshing, and their voices are the primary instrument.
The thirteen songs constitute a conversation put to music, with Kempf and Balla bouncing off one another well, as only people who have known each other deeply can do. Kempf’s part in particular is a force of nature, her voice fiery and expressive, howling into darkened corners, wailing into exposed spaces. She does her utmost to eke out every sliver of emotion in each word and Balla rightly maintains a distance in his own lyrical maneuvers. On a song like “Moonlight,” his subdued sound charms in a quieter way to the passionate cries that Kempf unleashes on “No Time,” for example.
Indeed much of Kempf’s leads are like this, more acerbic and free than Balla’s offerings: previous single “Letter” is cut with an icy Joy Division sound as Kempf bears her teeth and her soul: she notes “To every girl going forward / You’ll never get what I got” while reminding them that “You’re just following me / Good luck with that, girl / I’m a tough act to beat”; on the wickedly upbeat “Haha” she sings “Don't want to talk about it / Oh yeah, I'm doing fine / It's best to fight about it / Yeah boy, I love to cry”; all that’s missing is a well-timed eye roll.
Lesser bands would have floundered in trying to bear the broken pieces of a band relationship but somehow Dehd appears emboldened. There is much acknowledgement of the strife and trouble but by the album’s end, there is only positive acceptance. As Balla says on the melancholic “Drip Drop,” “We’re different apart, but better as one”. It’s a sentiment that is welcome, for few of their rock peers can currently match Dehd for personality or verve.