Album Notes

Doubting Paris was conceived in the back of a van, so to speak. The story of DP began in Vancouver, BC where vocalist Timothy Lindberg and drummer Jay Stewart had secured a month-long tour of Denmark. They were just missing some key components for the endeavor—namely, a guitarist and bass player. Meanwhile, 800 miles away in Medicine Hat, Alberta, guitarists Zac Pick and Ben Rogers began to collaborate on their own music projects. The stars aligned when the new friends took a weekend road to the west coast, and Ben, a native Vancouverite, introduced Zac to his old friend Tim in a parking lot. The introduction turned into an all-night conversation in Tim’s pink ’65 Volkswagon bus, and by sun up a band was formed—or at least a tour-worthy lineup. After a spring of touring Denmark, the boys arrived home and independently realized they saw a future in creating music together, and enough potential to merit a drastic change. They quit their jobs, and moved shop to Langley, BC. With no name and no songs of their own, the four musicians embarked on a six-month “boot-camp”—laboring eight hours a day in the studio, subsisting on potatoes and Kraft Dinner, jogging each morning, and hashing it out over lyrics and chord progressions. At the end of their self-imposed school of rock they surfaced with a name, a sound and dozens of original songs. In the throes of formation, the very best and worst of each band member was revealed. “Doubting Paris” is a reflection of this tension between good and bad: an expression of who we are at the very best of times—bright, creative, amorous, community-minded; and at the worst of times—casting shadows and battling fears, withholding trust. Transformed from a slap-dash combo to a bona fide indie quartet, Doubting Paris made their entrance onto the Vancouver music scene. A handful of early song demos made their way to the ears of producers Daniel Mendez and Dwight Baker, who promptly invited them down to record their full-length self-titled debut in Austin, Texas. The release was followed up with a rash of shows throughout Vancouver. Since then, Doubting Paris have graced stages across Canada, the Pacific Northwest and Europe with their fresh combination of introspective indie rock and summery pop hooks—supporting high-profile acts like Keane, Sloan, David Usher and Pilate. Their songs have meandered across the continent finding their way onto the soundtracks of America’s Next Top Model, MTV’s the Real World, Joan of Arcadia and Falcon Beach. This past May, fresh off a ten month break, Doubting Paris released a new six-song EP, The Weapons of the Tongues of Lovers. Musically, the album is a step-forward for the boys as they move away from the paired-down melodies that pervaded their self-titled debut. The new album is rich with the depth of layers and personal matter that urge listeners to hit repeat again and again. The band has stitched up a few frayed edges and polished the scuffs, but there is still a raw edge and an honesty, courtesy of Lindberg’s trademark gravelly vocals—once likened to the wizened voice of thirty years-worth of cigarettes. As suited to summer drives as they are to indie film soundtracks, the songs on Weapons maintain Doubting Paris’ identifiable sound—echoing guitar underscored by head-bouncing piano and beautifully tormented vocals. Swaths of instrumentation offset simple melodies and show a new maturity in Doubting Paris’s song-writing. Out of ethereal riffs emerge hopeful up-beats, and songs light between sugary pop and the melancholic with the flick of the fast-forward button, breeding a sense of lovely anticipation. Lyrics tread dually in the poetic and profound as they casually transition between hopeful romance and broken reflections on friends with mental illness. Each of the six sing-able tunes smoothly marries acoustic folk and full-blown indie rock—yet another tension in which Doubting Paris is happy to dwell.