Posts Tagged ‘Ian Devaney’

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Nation of Language just released “Wounds of Love”, “Happy to bring you Wounds of Love – the second single from our next album, “A Way Forward”, due out November 5th 2021. Nation of Language are an American indie pop band formed in Brooklyn in 2016. The group consists of Ian Richard Devaney (vocals, guitar, percussion), Aidan Noell (synth, vocals) and Michael Sue-Poi (bass).

Since 2018, Devaney has also been the lead vocalist for Machinegum, a side project created by The Strokes drummer, Fabrizio Moretti. Moretti provided the drumming on the Nation of Language tracks “Indignities” and “Sacred Tongue”.

Devaney and Sue-Poi were both members of The Static Jacks, but the band became inactive after the release of their second album. Devaney was inspired to start a new project after hearing “Electricity” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark in his father’s car, a track he listened to in his childhood. What started out as Devaney “fooling around” on a keyboard later evolved into Nation of Language, with the addition of Devaney’s partner Noell and former Static Jacks bandmate Sue-Poi.

The band released a number of singles from 2016 through to 2019, before releasing their debut album Introduction, Presence in May, 2020

Released July 8th, 2021
Written by Nation of Language

A Way Forward“, their second full-length album, will be released November 5th, 2021.

Brooklyn-based synth-pop trio Nation of Language have shared a video for their new single “This Fractured Mind.” It is the latest release from their forthcoming sophomore album “A Way Forward”, which is due out on November 5th. Watch the James Thomson-directed video below.

Songwriter/vocalist Ian Devaney speaks regarding the new song in a press release, stating: “After I dropped out of college, I spent a number of years delivering pizzas and waiting tables while I lived at home and tried to get a music career going. One ends up spending a lot of time contending with unrealized dreams and feeling jealousy towards those who have moved on. There’s an inferiority complex that can set in, which if unchecked, can lead down a pretty bitter and self-destructive road. This is a song for driving down that road, as indecision and longing and regret cycle together into mania, until finally, at the end, quiet acceptance and peace wash over.”

He adds: “As for the recording itself…for those later movements, we messed around with tape machines, running things at different speeds and sometimes backwards, talking about William Basinksi’s ‘Disintegration Loops’ and trying to see how we could achieve a similarly sombre, ethereal ambiance, but in a comparatively very small space. This one in particular serves as a good example of how, on the album as a whole, we wanted to find a balance between steady motorik endlessness and more spacious ambient moments.”

Nation of Language consists of Ian Devaney (vocals, guitar, and percussion), Aidan Noell (synth and vocals), and Michael Sue-Poi (bass). “A Way Forward” is the band’s sophomore album and the follow-up to their 2020 debut album “Introduction, Presence”.

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We’ve got some news we’ve been very eager to share, and the day has finally arrived. Last year, Nation Of Language released their debut album Introduction, Presence in the middle of May — just in time for frontman Ian Devaney’s thirtieth birthday, and right around the time we were starting to creep out of lockdown and see each other again. This wasn’t the original plan: It had been slated for April, and then pushed back thinking they might still get to play a release show in May. Of course, that didn’t go as planned either. Little of the last year and a half has, and you can only imagine the amount of up-and-coming bands who got cut off at the knees, releasing albums that represented years of hard work and incremental growth and then not being able to tour behind them.

First thing’s first: album 2 is coming your way. It’s titled “A Way Forward” and will be out November 5th. The first single, “Across That Fine Line“, is out now .  the Brooklyn trio — also featuring Devaney’s wife Aidan Noell on synths, and bassist Michael Sui-Poi — have become noticeably bigger, selling out shows around the country. Also on the other side of the pandemic, they have another new album already, arriving just in time for fans who have found Nation Of Language in the last year and hadn’t been able to catch them on the road yet.

A Way Forward” is the follow up to Nation of Language’s debut album, “Introduction, Presence” (2020). While much of the sounds on the band’s previous record garnered comparisons to the synth-punk sound of the 80’s, on this new offering the band delved heavily into the Krautrock pioneers and electronic experimentalists of the 70’s for inspiration in the studio, stretching their boundaries in new and different ways.

“Introduction, Presence” was a bold, bright tribute to the classic era of new wave, A Way Forward is often a blearier album, exhuming more primitive drum machines and synths and combining them with trippier ambience without entirely foregoing the danceability and muscularity the band displayed on their debut. You will have already gotten a sense of this from advance singles, particularly “This Fractured Mind” and “The Grey Commute.” But the band also held back some of the album’s best songs and biggest surprises for release day: the swooning head fog of “Miranda,” the haunting and sprawling “Former Self,” the psychedelic lovelorn daydream of “Whatever You Want,” another mesmerizing album finale in “They’re Beckoning.” Altogether, “A Way Forward” in some ways echoes its predecessor, in that each song stretches out in a different direction, chases a different idea. But at the same time, it feels like Devaney has crafted an album that has more of a complete arc to it, an album-length journey through listlessness and shadows and memories.

“In Manhattan”

IAN DEVANEY: I think it sets the tone in a nice way for me. There’s something more subdued about it. I often like when there’s a track that welcomes you into things. That one is very triangular in shape, it basically goes up and up and up and everything swells, then you build to this moment. It’s mostly about building up the emotion right away. It also helps because, similar to the first album, I like the idea that A Way Forward lives in New York. I like that the record has a sense of place around here.

DEVANEY: Although everyone thinks about whatever city they live in, because every city has a Division St. Especially Chicago.

“In Manhattan” has a lot I relate to. I feel like it comes from those early years living here where you are kind of reckoning with fantasy vs. reality — the “Strung along by a fiction/ Read it in a magazine” sentiment.

DEVANEY: “On Division St.” is definitely more of a romantic song, and this one is definitely more of a disenchantment thing. Reckoning with the expectation of what you thought it was going to be like vs. what it’s actually like, both in terms of a lot of things being harder and crummier than you think and the inaccessibility you can feel in so many ways. A friend visits for the weekend and by the end of it you come out like, “Where has all my money gone?” It feels like, in other places, it wouldn’t happen as severely.

I feel like I had to come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t just go out and have fun all the time. When you’re living outside of New York and you’re thinking of what it’s going to be like, I personally thought I was going to be out at bars all the time, having fun all the time, and it just isn’t. There’s still elements you can romanticize, but it’s basically realizing the board is just nothing like what you thought. Some things are great, and some things are not, but it’s often not how you expected it to line up.

“Wounds Of Love”

DEVANEY: To me it feels OMD-ish… there’s a bit of a more conscious decision to go for a kind of classic pop songwriting. That’s something they were able to do very well. The Kraftwerk thing was really that main riff. I wanted to write something that felt like it could be on Man Machine, and that got wedded with the pop song concept.

Originally it was meant to be a much more robotic song.

DEVANEY: It’s funny, I was just listening to a thing recently where they were talking about Kraftwerk and how it’s very cold and robotic but at the same time it’s kind of funky and they were trying to figure out how they were able to do that. When I first made it, it was only the cold parts of the Kraftwerk-ness. So then it was bringing in a bit of rhythmic synth in the background, to take the straight beat and give it a bit of groove.

“Miranda”

DEVANEY: I like to refer to this song as “The Great American Road Trip Song, Dirtbag Edition.” I was thinking about the Vampire Weekend song “Hannah Hunt” and “America” by Simon & Garfunkel. I wanted that sense of fuzzed-out traveling brain in the song. The protagonist is partially the worst versions of myself, partially a fictional character. It’s definitely a song about aimlessness and someone who can’t really commit to anything and doesn’t really have a good relationship to other people or the world around them.

 “The Grey Commute”

DEVANEY: I first started writing it in 2017, when the Republican tax plan passed. It was similar to how they were always trying to repeal Obamacare and once they actually had power they couldn’t do it. It was like the dog who caught the car, they had no fucking idea. It was just a talking point for all that time. Apparently with the tax plan it was the same sort of thing. They were like, “Oh, shit.” The thing that ended up passing was basically written for them by the CEO of FedEx. Just handed to them. After that passed, FedEx were owed money by the government instead of having to pay a billion dollars in taxes.

It was one of those things that was so frustrating. You’ll talk about policies you want to pass that shouldn’t be considered ambitious but people are always like “Well, how are you going to pay for it?” Well, that billion dollars is a good fucking start. I think, particularly, when this song was written — I go through periods of paying too much attention to the news that send me into these doom loops in my head. “The Grey Commute” is the only positive thing that’s come from those doom loops, creatively. I’ve never been able to write a song before that felt like it touched on politics that didn’t feel forced or cheesy.

“This Fractured Mind”

DEVANEY: This is the sad townie anthem. It harkens a bit back to almost the early days of Nation Of Language, when I didn’t really know it was going to be a band. I was just living in New Jersey and delivering pizza. The bones of this song were created back then, in 2014. It was still when I was a little more aimless in terms of how to achieve various styles with intention.

It had been thrown in the demo bin, and I found it again while we were making this record and was like “Oh, shit.” Not knowing what I was doing [back then], it’s a very motorik beat song [that worked for A Way Forward]. The synth sounds weren’t right, but if I changed them a bit it lived in that krautrock world. I could re-address the lyrics and flesh the song out and I felt like it could help serve the general album theme.

“Former Self”

This is the big left turn of the album.

DEVANEY: I wanted something that was not as regular kick-snare driven. I wanted to live more in synth music world. The synth arpeggio is what it’s about, and everything else is in support of that. It was written on acoustic guitar. I had just recently gotten a nylon string acoustic, and I was messing around with learning finger-picking. The arpeggio here is what I was drilling on guitar, and all these changes came to me while I wasn’t even really paying attention. It felt like something I wouldn’t have thought to do if I had been like, “I’m going to sit down to write a song.” Then I figured out all the notes I was playing and sent them to the synths and put it together.

There’s a fun aspect of this song, in the support percussion. Have you ever watched the Miyazaki movies, the Studio Ghibli stuff? In a lot of them, whenever there is some sort of large machine going, it feels like it’s a combination of machine sounds but also someone being like psssshhh-psssshhh. That’s something I was playing with in the rhythm of this song. Some of the sounds were just me. It’s both robotic and human at the same time. Also, one of the sounds in “Former Self” is the same sample as the big drum hit in “Indignities.”

“Whatever You Want”

DEVANEY: It lives in a similar space as “Across That Fine Line,” but it’s a bit more about obsession and being drawn to someone who is just not drawn to you. But still getting the thrill, that jolt, of realizing you’re drawn to someone. There’s a bit of a celebration, even if it’s not reciprocated — like, “Oh, I’m capable of this.” I feel like it always makes one feel youthful to be drawn to someone in that way.

 “A Word & A Wave”

In the press quote for this song, you said “A Word & A Wave” was about a person who tried to make everyone around them happy, but did little for themselves and ended up feeling spent and empty.

DEVANEY: Yeah, wanting to be there for everyone even if it’s in the smallest ways and just how draining that can be in the long run. Everything that the person is doing, they’re trying to keep everyone OK. They’re always watering their plant making sure that’s alive. In some sense, just being trapped by that.

In terms of me wanting the album to have a sense of place in New York, this is the one that doesn’t fit into that as much, in my own head. When I was writing it, I was picturing this person being in a small, warmly lit bedroom in Portland, Maine. That was why we went up to Portland when it came time to make the video. The only thing I knew about this song is that that’s where the person was in my head.

“They’re Beckoning”

This also began life as a vignette.

DEVANEY: That’s another one, that same feeling came up. Of all the songs, that came in the most uncooked. I really wasn’t sure it was going to end up on the album so it was like, “Yeah, let’s have fun. Probably won’t use whatever comes out, but we’ll see.” With each progressive step we took, I was like, “Oh, shit, that was cool. Maybe we do this,” and Nick would say, “If we do that, what about this, write some more words in this part.” You felt that joy of creation in the moment where you really never knew what the next step was going to hold.

Oftentimes that feeling of satisfaction you get in the studio is, at least for me, different than the satisfaction that happens when you’re in that writing mode at home before you get there. To have that sort of spontaneity happening in the other context was very electrifying. A fun thing about this song is it was composed based on the clicking of a heat pipe in my apartment. I recreated it. I think I tried to see if my mic cable was long enough for me to get from my computer but I couldn’t get over there. 

Discussing, Devaney added, “‘A Way Forward’ is an exploration of the band’s relationship to the music of the 70s, through the lenses of krautrock and early electronic music. We aimed to more deeply trace the roots of our sound, hoping to learn something from the early influences of our early influences. Experimenting with how they might be reinterpreted in our modern context – looking further backward to find a way forward. We drew a lot from the steady locomotive rhythms of bands like Kraftwerk and Neu!, while also looking to less-propulsive electronic artists like Laurie Spiegel and Cluster. The goal was to have a record that felt like a journey, like being on a train that gets lost in a colourful fog, and then suddenly bursts through into different landscapes. Thematically, some of those landscapes are familiar in their melancholy, but we also wanted to introduce celebration and joy in a way that hadn’t really been present in our previous album. Having these bursts of positivity felt like it gave the emotional low points more resonance, giving a stronger sense of emotional reality to the album overall.”

Recorded during the lockdowns of 2020, production on the record was divided between Abe Seiferth (who worked on Introduction, Presence) and Nick Milhiser of Holy Ghost!

There is a Rough Trade Exclusive LP and CD with bonus CD featuring 3 exclusive alternate versions of album tracks and 1 remix from Nick Milhiser (of Holy Ghost!)

1. A Word and A Wave (Alternate Version)

2. In Manhattan (Alternate Version)

3. Miranda (Alternate Version)

4. A Different Kind of Life (Nick’s Dub)

To pre-order A Way Forward, you have a few choices: we’ve partnered with Rough Trade to create an exclusive blended red/blue colored vinyl, which also comes with a bonus CD of alternate versions of four songs, available nowhere else.(For our friends in the UK / EU, this is probably going to be the easiest way to get your hands on the record – as many of you know, shipping from the US can be a killer.)

On our website you can find a coke-bottle-clear colored vinyl (as well as traditional black), where you may notice that we have a new shirt available as well.

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Brooklyn-based synth-pop trio Nation Of Language have announced a new album, “A Way Forward”, and shared its first single, “Across That Fine Line” via a lyric video for it. They also announced some tour dates. A Way Forward is not out until November 5th.

Nation of Language consists of Ian Devaney (vocals, guitar, and percussion), Aidan Noell (synth and vocals), and Michael Sue-Poi (bass). A Way Forward is the band’s sophomore album and the follow-up to 2020’s debut album, “Introduction Please”. That album came out in last May, as the pandemic was really taking off. “We’ve always been real believers in our live show as the best way to reach new people,” Devaney says in a press release. “When it became clear there wouldn’t be any touring, we were sure it was a death knell for the album.” Instead, the album received much acclaim .

In a press release, Devaney had this to say about the new single: “‘Across That Fine Line’ is a reflection on that moment when a non-romantic relationship flips into something different. When the air in the room suddenly feels like it changes in an undefinable way. It’s a kind of celebration of that certain joyous panic, and the uncertainty that surfaces right after it. Sonically, it’s meant to feel like running down a hill, just out of control. I had been listening to a lot of Thee Oh Sees at the time of writing it and admiring the way they supercharge Krautrock rhythms and imbue them with a kind of mania, which felt like an appropriate vibe to work with and make our own.”

Abe Seiferth (who worked on Introduction, Presence) and Nick Milhiser of Holy Ghost both produced “A Way Forward“.

Devaney describes the album’s intent and sound in more detail: “A Way Forward” is an exploration of the band’s relationship to the music of the ’70s, through the lenses of Krautrock and early electronic music. We aimed to more deeply trace the roots of our sound, hoping to learn something from the early influences of our early influences. Experimenting with how they might be reinterpreted in our modern context—looking further backward to find a way forward.

“We drew a lot from the steady locomotive rhythms of bands like Kraftwerk and Neu!, while also looking to less-propulsive electronic artists like Laurie Spiegel and Cluster. The goal was to have a record that felt like a journey, like being on a train that gets lost in a colorful fog, and then suddenly bursts through into different landscapes.

“Thematically, some of those landscapes are familiar in their melancholy, but we also wanted to introduce celebration and joy in a way that hadn’t really been present in our previous album. Having these bursts of positivity felt like it gave the emotional low points more resonance, giving a stronger sense of emotional reality to the album overall.”

“Across That Fine Line” from the album “A Way Forward“, out November 5th 2021

Happy New Year everyone. Hope you’re doing alright in these ceaselessly overwhelming times. I’m emailing you to let you know Nation of Language have just released a new song today, and to share an early link to pre-order the 7″ vinyl record that it will be on, alongside our song “A Different Kind of Life”.

The new song is called “Deliver Me From Wondering Why“. We let ourselves get a little weird on this one. We hope you enjoy it. Maybe put it on and go for a drive, or just sit on the couch and stare into the middle distance.  Both songs were produced by Nick Millhiser, who some of you may know as one half of Holy Ghost!, with whom we’ve shared stages in NYC, DC, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. Both songs were also mastered by Heba Kadry, who has worked on all of our releases.

Brooklyn synthpop group Nation of Language are back with a very catchy new single that is reminiscent on Human League and OMD. “‘Deliver Me From Wondering Why’ is a bit of an exploration, rooted in a desire for something repetitious and a bit spacey — something that would make you really want to zone out or go for a long drive on the highway,” says Ian Devaney. “We worked on it with Nick Millhiser (Holy Ghost!) and it was just a really fun exercise in letting the track carry us wherever it was going to go. The backbone of the steady synth arpeggios and rhythms just leads endlessly forward and lets the mind wander around it.”

Now, unfortunately, due to supply chain problems, these records probably won’t be pressed and shipped until some time around June. But at the pace time has been moving the last 12 months, I’m sure June will be here disturbingly quickly.  

With love and light,
NOL 

Nation of Language returned to share a new song “A Different Kind Of Life,” the first new music since their debut album Introduction, Presence, which dropped earlier this year. “This song first started to come together in the early days of the Trump administration, but was never quite finished and got a bit lost as time went by,” says frontman Ian Devaney. “When the demo resurfaced during the pandemic, the song struck a chord not just in its intended political context but in the context of so many people losing family members, jobs, or any semblance of normality—whatever might be left of it after the past few years.”

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Working Class Synth-Pop. Debut album Introduction Presence is out now in all formats. Nation of Language are also releasing an exclusive, translucent pressing of their debut album through Rough Trade Records,

released November 12th, 2020
Written by Nation of Language

There’s something special about an artist whose music reaches the full potential of a particular genre while also transcending it altogether. That can be said about Nirvana with grunge, Miles Davis with jazz, My Bloody Valentine with shoegaze and so on. One could also add Nation of Language to that list, with respect to new wave music.

The Brooklyn-based band, led by vocalist and songwriter Ian Devaney and featuring his wife Aidan Devaney on keys and Michael Sui-Poi on bass, unleashed their debut album Introduction, Presence last month, and it’s crowned them as the most exciting new synth-pop act in years. The band has been releasing invigorating, ’80s-indebted singles for about five years now—tracks like “I’ve Thought About Chicago” and “Reality” are undoubtedly direct descendents of Pet Shop Boys, A Flock of Seagulls and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, but there’s also a subtle glow that recalls 21st century anthemic indie rock à la Arcade Fire, The National and The Killers. While their decade-spanning influences can certainly be scavenged, their songs always sound bigger than them—Devaney’s songwriting feels essential and eternal.

It might not be the best time to release a highly-anticipated, highly-danceable album, but “Introduction, Presence” resonates in kitchens and cars just as well as it would in the animated bars of New York City. Ian Devaney is currently sitting by the bedroom window in his Brooklyn apartment, which overlooks an alley full of weeds that have grown far larger than normal. “It’s kind of sad actually,” Devaney says. “Over the last couple weeks, I’ve watched them grow from little tiny weeds into big bushes. It’s my little bit of nature.”

Like most of us, he’s feeling strange about the present circumstances, but his album release date was something to look forward to, and it also happened to be his 30th birthday. During quarantine, he’s been pinging between instruments, recording equipment, video games and books, which are all set up near him so he can simply “follow [his] spirit.”

It’s no secret that 1980s nostalgia has been prevalent in indie rock for years now. From Future Islands and Interpol to The 1975 and TOPS, countless bands from the last two decades have found success filtering their music through distinctly ’80s lenses. Still to this day, you can hardly swing a dead cat without hitting an indie band with one or more of these elements: interstellar synths, bass-driven songs, rich production and melodramatic vocals. To join these ranks is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, there’s a huge demand for music that sounds like it came from the era of big hair and goths, but on the other hand, it’s hard to stand out in such a saturated market—and even harder to make lasting, impactful songs that transcend its revivalist label. New York City band Nation of Language approach this weighty task with more grace and far better song writing chops than the vast majority of bands who attempt retro pastiches or something close to them. For starters, lead singer and songwriter Ian Devaney (formerly of Static Jacks) has a low-pitched, aching voice that just screams classic new wave, but more crucially, he has an ear for awe-inspiring melodies and synth lines that go above and beyond mere cinematic uplift. Nearly every one of his songs prompts a mental highlight reel of one’s own life, but without the stylish, candy-coated nostalgia that’s fetishized nowadays—it’s the profound kind that allows you to view yourself at your lowest and highest moments and see the beauty in having a finite amount of time to live.

Nation of Language formed in 2014, around the same time Devaney’s previous band, The Static Jacks, dissolved. The Static Jacks toured internationally and released two albums of garage rock-tinted indie-pop, and although Devaney hadn’t yet found his feet, you can hear his knack for song writing and budding interest in 1980s pop (see “Mercy Hallelujah” and “Katie Said”). With Nation of Language, Devaney didn’t start from scratch with hopes of becoming the next big buzz band—the group simply came from a place of musical experimentation.

“I didn’t think of it as ‘I’m starting a new band,’” Devaney says. “It was just an exploration of trying to write a different style song than I had been writing for years. Even after we had played a couple of shows, it wasn’t a very serious thing until Aidan joined the band. She’s a very ambitious person and wants to go out and play, and that made me believe in myself and the music more.”

While Devaney says making the music was quite a deliberate process, their debut album itself just sort of happened.

“‘Indignities’ has been out for a while, but when we recorded it, I didn’t so much think, ‘We’re piecing together an album,’” Devaney explains. “It was just like, ‘We’ve got enough money that we can go do this, so let’s get in there and make a song.’ I had a certain amount of unreleased material that felt like it lived so well with these things that we had released earlier that I was like, ‘Let’s just call this a bundle of our early works.’”

Introduction, Presence is satisfyingly 10-tracks-long, and it’s essentially a greatest hits album—excluding only the stirring early single “I’ve Thought About Chicago,” which was curiously left off the tracklist. Despite its compilation feel, it has mindful sequencing. The first half is exhilarating—almost like they wanted listeners to be fully impressed right from the jump. You can’t hear “Tournament” and “Rush & Fever” without imagining a crowd hanging on its every beat with their bodies intuitively swaying and eyes blissfully shut. Then comes the peak of this record’s poignant nostalgia, “September Again” and “On Division St,” followed by the rhythmic post-punk glory of “Indignities.” The latter half of the album is a bit more spacious and varies more in tempo and style, but it doesn’t conclude without one more life-affirming dancefloor filler, “The Wall & I.” It’s all packaged so thoughtfully, and it leaves you wanting more.

Devaney said he’s always striving to write something as good as LCD Soundsystem’s “All My Friends,” and you can hear nods to Brooklyn’s dance-punk gods and that wide-eyed NYC pulse rushing through nearly every song. However, he pushes back against the idea that Nation of Language are a distinctly New York City band. Yet, it’s still hard not to imagine Introduction, Presence as a soundtrack to the lives of New Yorkers who feel both uplifted and quashed by the mythology of the city.

“I think those are big brushes that I used to make the record—that hopeful melancholia thing,” Devaney says. “I think New York probably amplified that, but I think that’s maybe part of the reason I was drawn to live here in the first place—the hopeless, never-ending struggle aspect.”

Nation of Language sound refreshingly out of step with the gentrified Brooklyn scene’s trendy bedroom pop and tired art-punk acts, but they never felt a part of that world to begin with.

“We’re down south of Crown Heights and Lefferts Gardens, and so there’s this feeling of being in Brooklyn and a part of the action, but also very much separate from it,” Devaney says. “I think that’s probably good for me because if I lived right in the middle of everything, I might not leave myself the time to actually work on the music and just spend all my money hanging out with people. Just being in Brooklyn is a very important thing to me—just something about the fact that when you look around, it feels like people are pursuing something and striving for something. It’s inspirational and makes me want to get back to it.”

Devaney likes the primitive quality of early new wave, when artists were only just scratching the surface of the possibilities of synthesizer-based music. It wasn’t overly technical, but it still transmitted emotions in a way that was quite profound. When Devaney shifted from writing indie-pop tunes to new wave ones, he liked the idea of not fully knowing what he was doing, but he’s not worried about losing that charming novice quality that so many bands struggle to maintain beyond their first few records.

“There are so many different options out there for different ways of creating music using a synthesizer, that I think between that and the fact that I’m not very good at guitar or bass means that there will be that sort of beginners’ touch for quite a long time,” he says.

Image may contain: one or more people, people on stage, people playing musical instruments and night

Sometimes a synth-pop song’s only purpose is to make you feel alive on the dance floor, and that’s fine. You can still feel a deep emotional connection as you latch onto its pulse and forget your worries. But the kind of life-affirming synth-pop that makes you cry—think giants like Robyn or LCD Soundsystem—are the artists that will ruin your life (in the best possible way). New York City’s Nation of Language have been releasing singles since 2016, and their lead singer and songwriter Ian Devaney recently collaborated with Strokes drummer Fab Moretti on a project called machinegum for an album last year. It was obvious, even several years ago, that Devaney was an unusually consistent songwriter—every song was capable of making you pull over your car for a quick sob or triumphantly stick your head out of the sunroof with outstretched arms. His ’80s-indebted electro-pop meshed beautifully with the dance-punk sounds of the city’s yesteryear, and his songs had an emotional immediacy that was un-rivalled. Now, having finally unveiled their debut full-length, which contains some of those incredible early singles, it feels like Nation of Language have more of a right to claim the “soaring synth-pop” mantle than anyone else right now.

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Released March 26th, 2020
Written by Nation of Language

Image may contain: one or more people, people on stage, people playing musical instruments and night

Sometimes a synth-pop song’s only purpose is to make you feel alive on the dance floor, and that’s fine. You can still feel a deep emotional connection as you latch onto its pulse and forget your worries. But the kind of life-affirming synth-pop that makes you cry—think giants like Robyn or LCD Soundsystem—are the artists that will ruin your life (in the best possible way). New York City’s Nation of Language have been releasing singles since 2016, and their lead singer and songwriter Ian Devaney recently collaborated with Strokes drummer Fab Moretti on a project called machinegum for an album last year.

It was obvious, even several years ago, that Devaney was an unusually consistent songwriter—every song was capable of making you pull over your car for a quick sob or triumphantly stick your head out of the sunroof with outstretched arms. His ’80s-indebted electro-pop meshed beautifully with the dance-punk sounds of the city’s yesteryear, and his songs had an emotional immediacy that was unrivaled. Now ready to unveil their debut full-length, which contains some of those incredible early singles, it feels like Nation of Language have more of a right to claim the “soaring synth-pop” mantle than anyone else right now.

From the debut album Introduction Presence

Nation Of Language share new single “Reality”

Led by singer-songwriter Ian Devaney, Nation of Language evoke a nostalgic ‘80s new-wave sound mixed up with modern appeal. In January, the band released a darkly romantic new single, “On Division St.” They recently supported The Wombats in the U.S. and even managed to recruit The Strokes’ Fab Moretti for another single, the bouncing “Indignities.” . Their new single is a punchy electro-pop tune with Ian Devaney lamenting the monotony of life (“He’s sick of waiting for the sound of something more / That’s the only certainty”) and the surreal nature of reality (“Reality is nothing to me / Where I won’t be as hopeless as I seem / Some kind of waking dream”).

Based in Brooklyn synth rockers Nation of Language craft intoxicating new wave music that nods to the past while locking eyes on the future. Today, the band have shared another track and new single “Reality,” and it’s got all the hypnotic makings of a late night gem. Frontman Ian Devaney describes the song as “revolving around a person whose everyday life has become so mundane and frustrating that they retreat into their own head.