Drones of Democracy is a pointed attack on the irony of bombing for peace. Musically, it's a slow, driving beat with howling guitars, leading to a crescendo of wailing instruments. Art and producer Chris Wardman have created a soundscape perfectly suited to the lyrics. It is arranged so that the final build leaves you feeling like you are standing in the aftermath of a bombing. There is no explosion of sound - There's a slight muffling as if you just lost your hearing because of a bomb. The bass continues its ominous flight. Gently wailing guitar echoes grief.
The ticking. It’s hard not to notice, harder still not to find extra meaning in.
It’s a frigid Friday morning and Art Bergmann is making some tea in the kitchen of the small, charming acreage abode just outside of Airdrie that he shares with his wife, Sherri, and their two rescue dogs. The veteran Canadian singer-songwriter has graciously agreed to a sit-down for a story to publicize his upcoming Alberta shows, his first in these parts for a good decade or more, and gigs that, hopefully, signal a welcome return to this country’s musical landscape.
- by Shawn Conner
I thought this one was going to kill me…
I’ve been working on it more or less off and on since seeing Art Bergmann perform at the WISE Hall on Canada Day a month ago. The more rumours I heard from the people there about the Vancouver singer the more interested I became.