The Unreliable Narrators was recorded over a period of 18 months in various apartments, motels, garages, and barns, with walls and windows covered with duvets, sheets, and foam. Bits and pieces recorded here, there, and wherever we could. Time was spent waiting for buses to pass by, for neighbours to stop shouting. There was a ton of cursing when we realized the perfect take we had just done, had picked up truck engine brakes, dogs barking, or children shrieking like dolphins. Sometimes you just have to leave things in (listen carefully).
The songs sometimes look inwards and sometimes outwards. And sometimes ponder how the outside changes and affects the inside; and viscera versa. They are thoughts and observations of the world around us; big world and little world. The songs try to do what art should do: to sometimes look at our existence from a different angle and sometimes stare it straight in the eye and call it by it’s true name.
The definition of an unreliable narrator (coined in 1961 by Wayne C. Booth in his book The Rhetoric of Fiction), is one who is compromised, tells lies, and conceals the truth. One who exaggerates or is too naive or insane to be able to grasp the truth. Like Humbert Humbert in Lolita. Like Pi Patel in Life of Pi. Like Alex in Clockwork Orange. We are at times the unreliable narrators to our own lives, our own stories.
An unreliable narrator cannot be a fixed point, but can take you through many different points in a story. These songs try to stand at as many of these points as possible. You might not get the truth from and unreliable narrator but you’ll usually get a good story.