Aftermath | Chelsea McBride

While our previous album, The Twilight Fall, is not mandatory listening to understand the concept of this recording, it might help you gain an understanding of where we come from to start at what really is the beginning of the story. Before, we took you through the life cycle of you, and with Aftermath, we visit what happens after the end; in the orange skies and purple clouds of the temperate dreamworld a part of you inhabits.

I had the privilege of spending a few weeks at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity and it is through their support that the majority of this recording crystallized. “Revolution Blues” had already been composed, but it marked a bit of a turning point; where once soaring melodies might have given way to peaceful resolutions, now…things are a little bit different. The world has changed, or I’ve grown up, and not everything is quite as rosy as it once was. It becomes far easier to draw lines in the sand than to cross them and truly know another person. We’ve learned to say goodbye when the going gets tough – unless it serves us to stay and play the fool.

I felt this tension as a growing sense of unease and conflict, one that pervaded my everyday relations in a way few things have before. I have grown to think that there is some synchronicity of emotion among peer groups and communities; recent events have only found me more convinced of this. I can’t be the only one who walks around with a feeling deep in my gut reminding me that what I know to be true can change in a second, now. And as someone who’s relied deeply on stable external factors to give my mind peace, trusting that the world could fall apart at any time has been a challenge at best.

But there are certain things that are reliable; resilience, resistance, the pursuit of justice and a loving home. That love exists; that some people crave conflict the way others crave food; that if you build yourself and your community up, it pays intangible dividends for the rest of your life (and more, perhaps, should you be so lucky). So what do we choose to do in the face of adversity? And how does that define us?

The works found on this album were meant to be dark, and scary; it was supposed to be the moment where I delved into the human psyche and discovered all the unforgivable things we do to each other, from the micro level to the macro level. But I can’t look at all that hurt and come away without a little bit of hope – because even in the worst moments…somehow there is hope. Not all people are inherently bad. We gravitate to the negative, but we could use a little more practice of love and gratitude. To remember that if we don’t teach, no one learns.

Consider this, then, an invitation; to find silver linings in clouds, warmth in grey days, safe harbour in dark times. And a call to action, to be true to your word: to own your actions, and your commitment to a better place. No one person has all the answers, all things right, all things good. But you are much stronger when you’re not alone.

This album is best heard under a purple sky with orange clouds, in a cabin on stilts overlooking a body of water, accented by the sound of rain on a rooftop or static on the radio and television.

This album was also funded by the generous support of FACTOR (the Foundation to Assist Canadian Talent On Recordings), the Toronto Arts Council, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Canada Council for the Arts.

Biography

My practice is rooted in disrupting linearity and is concerned with how human consciousness engages in the process of meaning-making. Deeply interested in the topological character of media and exhibition spaces, my work promotes self-reflection and counters passivity to enable everyday critical thought. Through playful and accessible references to theory, as well as a strong emphasis on the potential of chaos, I challenge dominant ideologies to promote awareness of difficult knowledge and the importance of unlearning.

Artist Statement

While our previous album, The Twilight Fall, is not mandatory listening to understand the concept of this recording, it might help you gain an understanding of where we come from to start at what really is the beginning of the story. Before, we took you through the life cycle of you, and with Aftermath, we visit what happens after the end; in the orange skies and purple clouds of the temperate dreamworld a part of you inhabits.

I had the privilege of spending a few weeks at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity and it is through their support that the majority of this recording crystallized. “Revolution Blues” had already been composed, but it marked a bit of a turning point; where once soaring melodies might have given way to peaceful resolutions, now…things are a little bit different. The world has changed, or I’ve grown up, and not everything is quite as rosy as it once was. It becomes far easier to draw lines in the sand than to cross them and truly know another person. We’ve learned to say goodbye when the going gets tough – unless it serves us to stay and play the fool.

I felt this tension as a growing sense of unease and conflict, one that pervaded my everyday relations in a way few things have before. I have grown to think that there is some synchronicity of emotion among peer groups and communities; recent events have only found me more convinced of this. I can’t be the only one who walks around with a feeling deep in my gut reminding me that what I know to be true can change in a second, now. And as someone who’s relied deeply on stable external factors to give my mind peace, trusting that the world could fall apart at any time has been a challenge at best.

But there are certain things that are reliable; resilience, resistance, the pursuit of justice and a loving home. That love exists; that some people crave conflict the way others crave food; that if you build yourself and your community up, it pays intangible dividends for the rest of your life (and more, perhaps, should you be so lucky). So what do we choose to do in the face of adversity? And how does that define us?

The works found on this album were meant to be dark, and scary; it was supposed to be the moment where I delved into the human psyche and discovered all the unforgivable things we do to each other, from the micro level to the macro level. But I can’t look at all that hurt and come away without a little bit of hope – because even in the worst moments…somehow there is hope. Not all people are inherently bad. We gravitate to the negative, but we could use a little more practice of love and gratitude. To remember that if we don’t teach, no one learns.

Consider this, then, an invitation; to find silver linings in clouds, warmth in grey days, safe harbour in dark times. And a call to action, to be true to your word: to own your actions, and your commitment to a better place. No one person has all the answers, all things right, all things good. But you are much stronger when you’re not alone.

This album is best heard under a purple sky with orange clouds, in a cabin on stilts overlooking a body of water, accented by the sound of rain on a rooftop or static on the radio and television.

This album was also funded by the generous support of FACTOR (the Foundation to Assist Canadian Talent On Recordings), the Toronto Arts Council, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Canada Council for the Arts.