Em “Chemical Trance“, Krief aproveita a intersecção sagrada do divino e da mortalidade, confrontando as suas próprias vulnerabilidades numa bela cacofonia que, às vezes, lembra Pink Floyd, os Beatles de uma era mais tardia, Leonard Cohen e Radiohead. No entanto, de alguma forma, é exclusivamente Patrick Krief.

O disco, concebido para ser ouvido de forma contínua, está descrito de seguida faixa a faixa pelo artista canadiano.

I thought about this path I ended up on, in which I gathered the very basics to stay the course and survive. I was sold a dream, but it wasn’t my dream. I thought about how in my darkest hours I found myself surrounded by the exact same type of person. This song is about confronting your own demons, but it’s also about axing down the outer obstacles. Musically the song is quite challenging, the chords shift in odd places and there’s a couple tempo/timing changes. I made a commitment to keeping the first take on every track in order to preserve a sense of raw emotion that tends to get lost with repetition.

This is a farewell song. Letting go of things I loved so dearly, because the universe was insisting I do so. I don’t often write songs on a piano (guitar is my go-to writing tool) but this song was written on an old, abandoned and terribly tuned piano I came across one night. It took a long time to make all the pieces fit on this one. I had a lot of ideas I wanted to include in the cacophony. The main objective was to evoke a specific feeling when listening back. Just touching one fader made the song change dramatically. The song is so fragile, and likely my favourite on the record.

A man notorious for sympathy mongering is confronted with a real crisis at the hand of his own victim. This is a song aimed at people who exploit their power and harm others for their own personal gain and satisfaction. There is a lot of rage in the guitar solo. I did one improvised take and was drenched in sweat, and filled with adrenaline when it was done, almost as though I had taken vengeance on the sociopath with my guitar. It’s a fantasy.

Charlie Murphy referred to Rick James as a “Habitual Line Stepper” in Chappelle’s show. I thought about how I have known a couple of those characters.

This song represents the reality in kindness being a trait that is vulnerable to exploitation. It’s about breaking those barriers, and becoming assertive without losing your kindness. I wrote the song after losing a friend to cancer, someone who always encouraged me to assert, someone I felt would love this arrangement. The track has the type of string arrangement I always loved in Gainsbourg recordings, and a giant explosive ending to represent the pent up release of letting go, and asserting. I tapped into my Moroccan heritage with some of the rhythms and scales used here.

Memories so vague, they can only conjure a feeling. This is a song about losing control in ways that are welcome and exhilarating, but also somewhat intimidating. I wanted a dub-style rhythm that maintained a psychedelic atmosphere. The “steppers” beat creates an urgency and energy I have not explored in any of my previous works. The meandering guitar track on the right speaker was the loudest I’ve ever tracked a guitar. I had microphones all around and even outside the house to create that tone. Quite simply put, it’s a love song, it’s a daydream.

I remember traveling along deserted towns in Mexico, and seeing a pack of stray dogs. The biggest and most ferocious of which was at the back of the pack, getting last dibs and being snarled at by dogs he could effortlessly tear apart. Understanding the power of indoctrination with that one image, I was inspired. Svengali speaks to those puppet masters in our universe, and trying to blow the whistle on them. I wrote and recorded the second half of this song first. I knew it needed a part one, and that came days later. Merging the two recordings was quite challenging.

As the title suggests, this is a song about the illusion of moving up that is kept by the great Svengali. It speaks of a once glorious empire, which is left in shambles as people continue to live there in denial of its current state.. The seemingly rambling, drunkard tramp is the most insightful character when shouting out “One up, Two Down” to passers by …

When tracking, I remember thinking, “I’d love to hire a great piano player to lay some honky-tonk piano on this track” .. So I sat at the piano and did one take of my best honky-tonk playing, thinking it would be used as a guide, but something took over me and I was able to play exactly what I heard in my mind on the first run. Every time I hear that piano track I have no idea where it came from or how I was able to pull it off. I ran piano track through an old guitar amp for full effect.

There’s a man on stage telling me it’s the end of the world. But I don’t believe him. This is a song that shouts out “travesty” from the audience.. I wanted to have an expansive and progressive song that had a Pink Floyd esque abandon. Soaring, fuzz-driven guitar solos and some electroacoustic elements. This song panders to the teenager version of me that obsessively listened to Jimi Hendrix and music of the 60s/early70s. This song is the centrepiece of the statement this album is trying to make.

This is a song about truly selfless love, and letting that person know what the kingdom they have created for me looks like. Purple beaches and violet skies, heavy storms but none of it matters. The palace is safe, and I’m happy to be in it. I wrote, recorded and mixed this song in less than two hours. I knew the album needed a closer.. something light and beautiful. Some sort of calm after the storm. I sat at the piano, and the music just poured right out. I have a really close relationship with this song. It was written with my baby daughter in mind, as she slept nearby. I tracked everything live, singing the vocals as I played piano, with one microphone a few feet away.