Brian Borcherdt of Holy F**k has his other project Dusted which is far different from the loud electro-clashing experimental dance music to more of a lo-fi pop rock style of music.
So he dropped the music video and single for They Don’t Know You.
The leading track is taken from the upcoming album III which comes out on July 30 23, 2021 via AWAL.
I’m getting this Chris Isaak’s Wicked Games kind of vibe to it.
Very sombre and sad intimate feel with the song.
About the track:
They Don’t Know You finds Borcherdt singing of nostalgia, fully cognisant that the feeling is inherently littered with sadness and loss. His vocals span from a straightforward, melancholic pine, growing into a distorted specter floating over the track. Borcherdt’s lyricism is as poignant as ever on ‘They Don’t Know You’, showing how adept he is at cornering those feelings that we attempt to lock away. He sees through the veil of nostalgia, evoking the hard times, the ones we live with every day but don’t face. In facing the root of nostalgia we can find peace, but that road is long. Speaking to the song, Borcherdt says:
“A friend of mine recently commented that with each chorus of ‘They Don’t Know You’ he heard the meaning subtly change. “They don’t know you… they don’t know you like I do”. At once it is tender, empathetic and yet it is also cautionary. To know someone on a deeper level is to know their dark side. This song was written for my hometown of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia at a time when I never thought I’d go back yet also felt its nearly unconscious pull.
“I’d close my eyes and picture myself being pulled along the twisting roads that led to the cape with its lone lighthouse. Passed over by tourism, there were places like this where I could be totally alone (or with my girlfriend or buddies around a campfire). Through all this nostalgia there is also a permeating fog of sadness. As I pictured my body floating along that road I felt all the darkness right there with me, as if it were the hand pulling me or the ghost following behind.
“I wrote the second verse for my mother. Her and I pulled off the highway for gas as we were leaving Marion County, Indiana, the hometown that for her carried a similar sadness. We were cleaning out her childhood farmhouse after her mother died. She looked back at the highway from the gas pumps and said, ‘You know, I may never come back’”
They Don’t Know You gets:
/10.