Finally, The Wait is Over: Listen to the Debut Album from Dems

The debut album from Dems has been a long time coming. The group formed back in 2011 have spent the past three years perfecting their sound, and on November 3, they will release Muscle Memory, the band's debut LP. Ten tracks long, and recorded in Balham, the assonance of the record builds upon the soundscapes of contemporaries like the XX, Kindness, and SOHN. You can listen to Muscle Memory below - and peep our interview with the group where they talk about contemporary string sections, "hopeful darkness", and a secret rooftop cinema in South London's nether regions.

Noisey: Hi. This is your debut album. It feels like it's been a long time coming - three and a half years. Have you felt any pressure to conform to a certain type of sound on the record?

Yeah, I guess it has been a while coming. Over that time our approach to music has changed so much that we honestly only barely recognise the Dems that formed in 2011, jamming in cramped bedrooms and fantasising about an expansive live set up. We developed a sort of musical philosophy over time and eventually set on exploring that across this first album. We literally couldn’t be happier with the record that has now come into being; from the customary ordering of tracks to designing peculiar artwork to the wonderful mastering by Paul Winstanley to hearing those first physical test pressings - every step has been joyful. The only pressure we have felt is our own, which is actually a nice pressure. There are themes that we return to across the album lyrically, in terms of production techniques, in instrumentation. Conforming to any kind of sound appears to get people hot under the collar critically at the moment, but those themes connect everything on the LP.

You must have been recording and writing for a long time. What sort of approaches have you taken toward recording?

The material across this whole record is totally brand new with the exception of one song we released a couple of years ago, "Desire" - which just fit so beautifully with everything we were writing and which we originally recorded in a refurbished Granary in Sussex - and a radically reimagined early track, "Lioness". Everything else is written and recorded in 2014 in our own Balham-based studio, where we processed and sampled a lot of live instruments, incorporated live percussion, and, for better or worse, discovered a penchant for experimental arpeggiating guitar racks.

We've read that you've got a choir and string sections involved in the record. Can you talk some more about the decision behind that.

One strain of our creative process is rooted in finding kindred collaborators, including the wonderful London Contemporary Voices choir and various string players. By leveraging the skills of really interesting friends, you can’t help but create something unique and particular to you and your collective. There have been all sorts of contributors, like David’s sister playing trumpet on "Made For Myself", our yoga champion friend Oliver Wraith contorting himself for our artwork, a 3D printing artist Matthew Plummer Fernandez creating visuals for our live show, and elite tree climbers, contemporary dancers and renowned wildlife film photographers featuring in and directing our videos.

To answer your question specifically, we are really into choirs and string sections. When incorporated well, they both contribute a richness and magnitude both in live performance and on record.

The record is described as carrying a "hopeful darkness" all the way through. Where does that come from?

This was feedback from a friend of ours who listened to the album early and when he used the expression it stuck with us. Musically, we’re drawn to exploring sparse, warm bass, which kind of operates as a motif throughout the record and maybe suggests this to people who hear it.

With regards to narrative and lyrics, I’m sure we’ve years of combined baggage between us, but we’re not unloading a barrage of melancholic storytelling on unsuspecting listeners. It’s not a hyperbolic record, we purposefully exercised restraint and consciously pulled back from anything over-theatrical. This hopefully contributes to an uneasy sense of existing somewhere in-between hopefulness and darkness.

Lastly - you recorded in Balham. What's the best and worst thing about Balham?

The best thing about Balham is a secret rooftop cinema, the details of which we are sworn never to divulge. Following that, Rajah Rowing Club takeaway comes highly recommended - expensive, but worth every penny. The worst thing about Balham is its conspicuous lack of a skate park.