Interview: The Dill puts his heart on the chopping block called life

We love to romance past decades. It’s almost built in our core code. As a society, we live in the moment by constantly wallowing in the past ⎯⎯ longing for a seemingly simpler time in popular culture and bemoaning the current generation’s accelerated pace, reckless dream catching and perceived lack of respect for tradition. The “good ole days” means something different for different people, and despite the sour aftertaste of the 1950s and ’60s, socially and politically, there remains a kind of magic embedded in much of the art, music, television and film of the era. From Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons to Beach Boys and The Mamas & the Papas, rock ‘n roll music possessed a particular kind of charm. Glossy melodies adorned folk-rock grooves and prominent drum kits thrashing around sandy beaches and slivering midnight crescent moons, and the influence of such trailblazers has since reverberated outward and into modern pop music.

The Dill, a band led by Dylan Hudecki and backed by Ted Paterson (on drums), Brad Davis (guitar and keys) and Andy Lloyd (bass), are not immune to the lingering effects of a time when you needed to have some actual vocal chops. Hudecki’s first ever solo record, called Greetings from the Dill, winks and nods to a vast smorgasbord of musical styles, including the California Sound on standout cut “Stop Time,” a razzle-dazzle waltz number with Max Kerman on lead vocal. It’s stylized to sticky, hairspray proportions, often feeling delightfully polished and an apt reprieve from the album’s otherwise granular ripples. “Max is a pro, and I think he new what I was going for. It wasn’t exactly in his register, vocally, but because of this, he was able to channel a new character for him ⎯⎯ a crooner from the ’50s who has had been there and done it all and needed a break,” Hudecki gushes to B-Sides & Badlands over email. You can’t possibly more nostalgic about the past than with a song completely dipped and aired in true pop classicisms.

On that, the song also punctures some air into the lineup and allows the listener to catch their breath. “Our lives in 2018 often feel sped up, in a “go, go, GO!” type of lifestyle. This song reminds us to stop, compromise a little, say no to some things, get off the train for a little while,” he says. “Maybe the ’50s feel helps the listener get there, too, because it tugs on nostalgia strings, as well.”

Sewn into the fabric of the new record, which stands as a 13-track snapshot of Hudecki’s ambitious 52-track physical release, paired with a deck of cards, with custom designs for each song, is a tremendous feeling of heart and wrestling to live in the moment. “I’ve had a few near death experiences in my life, as well some people close to me passed away, which most people have, too, and those things really hit home,” he says. “[It’s] a big giant, lit sign that says, ‘DYLAN MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR DAYS AND NIGHTS AND LIFE!’ I want to live a very interesting and unique and colorful life — because yolo. I mean yolo sincerely, and I’m not joking about Drake. Also, being on medication reminds me of my mortality daily. Every morning, my heart meds remind me, ‘Hey mortal! Have a great day! Because, before you know it…’ I like Iron & Wine and their album title ‘Our Endless Numbered Days.’ That oxymoron makes a lot of sense to me. Our lives feel infinite some days, and others, you can almost hear the ticking clock.”

It’s that kind of self-awareness that commissions Hudecki to charge headfirst into a collection that’s both relentlessly sobering as it is empowering. “What have I become? Where did the old me run?” he pokes and prods on “Mountain Lion,” before the indie-rock chords are cut and he lets the funk lead him to some enlightened hypnotic state. But later, he asks, “What have we become?” And he paints with such burdensome insight that you begin to unravel your own sense of humanity, pain and desire along the way. With “Hold Me Up Don’t Let Me Down,” accentuated with blues harmonica and guitar, he urges for that one last embrace to soothe any and all agony.

Below, Hudecki discusses what led him here, his proudest musical moment on record, feeling alive and impact of his children on his art.

Why did now feel like an appropriate time for your solo debut?

I’m a project-to-project kind of artist. My last release was with my side project band High Kites and an EP, which wrapped up in 2012. I then went full on with my solo project, recording, editing…not telling many of the enormous scope of it. It took two years longer than I thought it would to edit all the music and prep the card art, etc. But I finished it, released it nice and slowly, one song a week for a whole year. It was very chill way to do it. I also didn’t play any shows that year, so it really worked for my schedule and life. The best of is here [on this album], and that feels right, too, as I now have a band to present a bunch of these songs live.

You had been compiling songs for your 52-card project since 2000. That almost goes along with the old adage that “you have your entire life to make your first record.” Do you feel all those songs really seemed to capture your life?

In a word, yes. Or it takes 100 songs to write 1 good one? Pretty much my whole adult life is wrapped up throughout ’52’ and subsequently [this one]. I’m not a slacker, though. Since 2000, I’ve made a total of nine albums in many different bands but only three albums where I wrote all the songs with my band Cowlick (with my brother Jackson). Those were more indie-rock/party-rock songs that fit well with that style of band. The music [here] is a broader encapsulation of my songwriting, talents, thoughts, feelings, maturity and moods. It’s not better or worse; it’s just different.

How would you describe your journey across those 52 songs?

It’s a journey of emotions, life experiences, thoughts, meanderings, day dreams. With 52 songs, I basically hit every facet of my life. Love, longing for love, disappointment, car crashes, my friends house burning down, what if’s?, almost divorcing, an Earthquake in Japan, surgery, getting older, death of a grandparent, leaving my old band, being a dad in a house full of kids and the madness and joy and work that ensues, wanting life to slow down. Quite a journey. Reading that all back makes for a pretty bleak outlook of my record, but it’s pretty fun and uplifting for the most part, just like me personally for the most part, I think.

When it came to narrowing down to 12 songs for this album, you’ve spoken about how you predominantly picks ones you liked listening to over and over again. Out of this bunch, which one do you find yourself drawn to most? What about your fans?

Lyrically, I think I’m proudest of “Hold Me Up Don’t Let Me Down” and “Emotional Guarantee.” Musically, probably “Our Favourite Song.” All three of those songs show I’ve really matured as a songwriter. When I was trying to whittle down the 52 to a 12-song best of, I sent the entire collection to about 20 close friends and family and my record label. I asked everyone to give me their list of their fave 12. When I tabulated the votes, every single song had been picked once, which didn’t help at all. [laughs] Though, many songs were chosen multiple times, so that really helped narrow down the collection that I was obviously too close to to judge. But it was tough to make a cohesive collection of the top 20, which was the middle stage. The finished album could’ve gone a few different ways.

When you finally released this album earlier this month, do you feel it was a release of pressure?

Immensely so. It actually felt like a cathartic ending and then a new beginning, if that makes sense? I can now play these songs live and start writing some new material, something I wasn’t receptive to for awhile.

You worked with more than 60 musicians for this music. Do you feel your relationships with them have gotten stronger over the past few years of creation? In what ways?

Stronger, for sure, or maybe it’s like another layer to an onion has been added, a new bridge built, so to speak. I’d already worked with about 50 percent of the people on the record in some fashion, [through] other records, shows, but this was a chance to officially work together on something specifically that I had created. I love collaboration, and I loved the colours everyone added to my paintings. Win-win.

Following all of your other bands through the years, how does this solo album fulfill a different creative space for you?

Being in control of every angle was liberating. Even when people came over or sent me their files, I still had all the creative control to edit, add, delete anything I wanted. When a song was sounding more full or close to completion, I really felt redeemed and content. One issue when you record and mix at home like I did in my basement studio (“the Beach”) is loneliness. I had no sounding board to bounce ideas and mixes off of. Even with all the collaborators I had, I was still just building a 1000-piece puzzle by myself. Even still, I wouldn’t have changed any of it for the World. Nothing….well, maybe I’d make a few edits on my pitchy vocals. [laughs]

“Divorce in Open D” has such a wispy arrangement, folk in execution. Is this ripped from your own life?

Completely autobiographical. When you’re in a relationship for a long time, partners can take each other for granted very easily, and sometimes you don’t even know you’re doing it. One person may feel the partnership is going great, and the other could be miserable inside and not happy with the relationship at all.

“Our Favourite Song” immediately follows and goes down so smooth. How did this mood develop?

I had been playing the two main “jazz chords” (for a lack of a better word) for years, and I didn’t have any lyrics to accompany them. One evening I sang five words along with the two chords, and that was it! In a flash, I knew the whole story of the protagonist. “I was on a cruise, searching everywhere for you, searching every port to port to port.” A couple was on a giant cruise ship, and the man (my character) made a blunder, I’m assuming hitting on another passenger, “I said something wrong, moments later you were gone, and you missed our favourite song.” He searched everywhere for her and dreamed about her, but she had flown away unbeknownst to him. I love when a song writes itself. The whole song with lyrics and chords and a bridge was completed in under 15 minutes after years of just having two chords that might turn into something. Good things come to those that wait was true this time!

“I Can’t Read Your Mind but I Can Daydream” is a guitar-focused ballad with prevalent drums rising and falling in the mix. What led to those creative choices?

The riff came to me at a cottage, looking at a beautiful sunset setting over a calm lake sitting in an Muskoka chair, just finger picking in dropped D tuning. As I pushed it further to see what else I could do, I came up with a nice melody. The piano and drums came much later. My friend Steve McKay, an amazing songwriter in his own right [Twin Within, Bruce Peninsula], drummed on it, as well as on 11 others of my 52 songs. He came to the songs with his own unique perspective and played each song differently. In this one, he really played with dynamics and came up with a tom and mallet heavy driving rhythm which really suited the song well. My friend and ex-bandmate Jose Contreras [By Divine Right] added piano to the track and sent it back to me. I slid it in and it fit perfectly. I thought the song was complete, but when that new piece to the puzzle was added, it felt like the song had stepped up a level. That happened a lot with this record.

The record also deals in “endless summer.” Why is summer so often perceived as a time when we feel most alive?

It’s just a theme I like. Being a teacher and having kids, and a child of a teacher, summer is this wonderful time for no work and lots of family connection and adventures. Being from Canada, summer is also one of the only times we have to really enjoy the outdoors without layers and layers of clothes. The concept and theme brings me visions of the Beach Boys record by the same title, watching my uncles and my dad jamming at their parents cottage music room, ’70s decor and styles and vibes, even though I don’t remember the time well, in pictures I do.

I would have to imagine your three kids help keep you young and alive. Do they inspire you and your pursuit of music?

They inspire and colour my already colourful life. I’m sure they subconsciously effect my music and songwriting, too. They keep me young and constantly make me laugh and break my heart. Young children are so adorable and fun and wild and horrible, all at once. As a dad of three, I can say that from experience. But they do things and say things that make you proud, impressed or laugh and often these moments also break my heart because a.) it’s so darn cute b.) they’re growing up so fast and c.) they’re leaving a stage of development that you don’t want to end. Life sure is bittersweet.

If you could have this record as a the soundtrack to a summer blockbuster movie, what would be the storyline?

It definitely would take place in Hawaii. The star’s house would be eccentric with a completely blue room, an ocean facing backyard and a kids room with 101 coloured balls hanging off the ceiling kind of thing. Probably a dramedy. Maybe Paul Rudd would be the star? Maybe Owen Wilson? I dunno? He has a few jobs. One is a delivery man with a black trans-am with the gold eagle on the hood. Possibly trying to juggle having three or four female friends (with benefits), a lazy dog, a dying grandma who is his sounding board on life, the one person that he tells everything to. Lots of hi-jinx thrown in for good measure. Something like that.

Photo Credit: Tara Smith

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