Buck 65 documents his divorce on confessional new album 'Neverlove' | iNFOnews | Thompson-Okanagan's News Source
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Buck 65 documents his divorce on confessional new album 'Neverlove'

Musician Buck 65 poses for a photograph in Toronto on Thursday, September 25, 2014. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Nathan Denette
Original Publication Date September 30, 2014 - 12:35 PM

TORONTO - If you listened to Buck 65's newest record without knowing he was trumpeting it as his "divorce album," it wouldn't take long to figure it out.

First there's the cover, and its image of wilted flowers sitting on an unmade bed. Then there are the track titles: "Heart of Stone," "That's the Way Love Dies" and "Love Will F--- You Up." And then you finally listen, and the very first song, "Gates of Hell," features the alt-hip-hop veteran trying his hand (or lungs) at scream therapy.

Of course, the artist otherwise known as Rich Terfry's far-flung fan base will already know many of the details of his personal life. His website features a crushing first-hand anecdote about the day "a few years ago" when his wife left. He's also written a book on the subject. And he's discussing the entire ordeal in interviews to promote the record, out this week.

So among the questions put to him, then: why be so specific about the real-life inspiration of "Neverlove," when so many artists sing about personal material then refuse to talk about it?

"I made the songs without really considering consequences, which is to say I wasn't even really thinking about the idea that people would hear it eventually," said Terfry, open and upbeat during a recent interview at a Toronto cafe. "And when I was confronted with that reality for the first time, admittedly, it was terrifying.

"(But) I've experienced the same thing as well where you hear a record, it sounds like there's a lot going on, you want to hear what the musician has to say about it, and then they refuse to say anything or they get defensive, like: 'How would you like it if I asked you that question?'

"Well, you're putting yourself out there. Not me. I mean, it's ridiculous. So I feel that in being a professional and having offered this thing up, I gotta be accountable for it and talk about it and support it."

As he prepared for interviews he figured would be emotionally trying, Terfry revisited the album and the feelings that inspired it — a strange experience, given that he finds himself miles away from that headspace now.

In writing, the Halifax-born Terfry wanted to reflect his surroundings as he worked, spending most of his waking hours in his dark, empty house (literally empty, he points out, since his wife had taken her stuff with her when she left).

So aside from occasional excursions — for instance super-silly dance pop tune "Super Pretty Naughty," crafted in concert with Swedish producer Marten Tromm, and softly sung piano-pop tune "Superhero in My Heart" — the songs are busy, electronic and reflect his desire for an album that sounded "cold."

"As I have the tour looming ahead of me, I'm questioning will I be able to perform these songs at all? Is a bar on a Friday night the right setting for a song like 'Baby Blanket?' Is that what people want at midnight on a Friday?" he mused, referencing perhaps the album's most affecting track, seemingly written about the faded possibility of expanding the family.

"People have been granting me permission to do it," he added later of performing his new material. "I think they can appreciate that it takes some bravery on my part to do it. I made this thing and I have to go out and ... run this thing out there on the road.

"So this will be what this year is in an exercise: How much guts do I have?"

For those wondering about what his ex makes of all this soul-baring, well, you're not alone; Terfry wondered too.

As he describes the initial breakup — on the album, on his website, in person — he came home from work to find his wife's wedding ring along with a note reminding him to feed the cat. By that point she was already on a plane heading elsewhere, and she didn't come back. He hasn't seen her face in years.

They did talk in the aftermath of the split, though, a daily indulgence that was both "comforting" and "detrimental." Though they eventually worked away from that regular communication, Terfry still felt as though he needed her to hear "Neverlove."

"I was terrified to send it to her," he said, noting that some of the "angriest" songs were ultimately cut. "Some of them were tough — really, really angry. Anger directed sometimes at myself but sometimes at her.

"She's really smart. When I first met her, she was in school studying art history. She has this appreciation for art, and she already liked my music.

"I give her credit for (saying): 'I can put my own feelings about things (aside) to say I think you did some really good work here, but I can also see you're working through some things and that's good, you need to do that.'"

If she was hurt, he insisted: "the only thing she said was, 'I'm glad you sent that to me and I'm glad I heard it but I don't think I'll be able to listen to that one again.'"

"But it was important to me for her to hear it first," he explained. "And I hesitate to say (it was) to get her approval, but in a way, deep down, maybe that's what I was looking for. If she said, 'I'm not OK with this,' I'm not sure I would have been able to go on ahead and share it with everyone."

— Follow @CP_Patch on Twitter.

News from © The Canadian Press, 2014
The Canadian Press

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