Back in Tangier, I started to look at my creative journey as a whole after a French book publisher asked me if I would be interested in writing my biography. While I welcomed the question as a kind gesture on his part, my answer was a simple, clear, concise “no”, which is a pretty rare thing for me. Don’t lie, you know I’m not what anyone would call a succinct type of interlocutor… It’s alright, I’m well aware of it too…!
Anyway, the conversation that followed my straightforward response was truly interesting, but not for the reasons I initially expected. I realized just how reluctant I am to look back at my years fronting Your Favorite Enemies, how quick I am to brush off the subject altogether whenever it’s being mentioned to me. I used to think it was because I had moved on, when in truth, the reality couldn’t be farther from that. Not only is it more complex than I would like to admit, it’s also more painful than I want to believe… for many different reasons I might just keep for an eventual biography!
But what emerged from that conversation, besides my unwillingness to look at the past when I’m so resolutely committed to my "now" was that, beyond the distress these highly conflictual and estranged relationships still evoke in me, the songs I crafted with Ben should have never been the collateral victims of that collective catastrophe. Never.
I still consider the album Tokyo Sessions the finest work I did under the YFE name, even though it wasn’t a full band effort by that point. I believe that without that album, I wouldn’t be writing to you today, at least not in this form. That reimagined version of our praised record Between Illness and Migration undeniably led me to trust myself as an instinctive artist and to follow my unorthodox vision as an expressive creator. I even have an official gold record waiting for me somewhere in the Canadian Music Offices … No, I’m not a nostalgic person, nor someone who needs to feed their ego.
That being said, I surprised Jeff and Ben in Tangier when I mentioned my desire to revisit songs from those records. Ben wasn’t too enthusiastic, to say the least… We all had different reasons for moving on without any intention of looking back. But for me, it wasn’t about chasing some nostalgic highs or reliving some of my yesterday’s heyday. It was about the songs themselves. For me, it’s always about the songs.
Whenever new people discover my current music and eventually dig out my YFE era, I’m incredibly grateful to see that those songs aren’t forever forgotten because of heartbreaking circumstances. That would have been the ultimate tragedy for me.
So I pulled out one of my personal favorites, the heartfelt 1-2-3 (One Step Away), wondering if the guys would even consider giving it a fair chance to ever be played again. It took about a month of bringing the issue up regularly before they agreed… Or maybe they just realized I wasn’t going to let it slide and decided to give it a try eventually.
I explained that what makes this song even more significant for me is its lyrical nature, reflecting on the fragile line between the kind of resilience that generates liberation and the surrender that gives in to circumstances. It was inspired by my friend Tomoaki, a Japanese firefighter, who once told me that most fatal casualties are only one step away from escaping the disaster they were facing.
I carried that tragic fact into an emotional and spiritual realm, opposing the cynicism and fatalism that can seep into our lives with the empowering essence of self-determination and fortitude in how we are willing to resolutely live. It’s as intimate as it is collective, and while there are many layers to its lyrical content, I wanted the words to be less cryptic than I used to write at the time.
I still don’t know if I will play that song live — or any others from that period — but it feels good, if not right, to give them the proper light they deserve.
Dwelling in their particular uniqueness is a blessing in itself, as making peace with that incredibly defining season of my life allows me to slowly piece myself back together. That’s a vibrant sensation, especially after all those years depriving my heart and soul of such a consequential part of my story.
And as for my biography, isn’t that what this community is all about? The only difference is that I’m not writing backwards… I’m writing in the present tense, determinedly moving forward, incarnating that necessary will to “be” who I am a little more each day.
1-2-3, I gotta let it go… It’s puzzling to realize how much more sense it all makes to me now than it ever did back in 2012 when I first demoed the song.
Life creates life.
Your brother and friend,
Alex
PS: The rehearsal happened as a wonderful surprise from the band after I told them I would be sharing 1-2-3 (One Step Away) with you. It was honestly a very moving moment for me… And seeing Oli so enthusiastic about it made it even more special. The last time we played the original version of that song was right after we wrote it, 13 years ago, but it felt like yesterday… Wow! the memories that came with it… Unbelievable!!!
That said, a 4-minute-30-second song is way too short for me… No wonder the last iteration of it was almost 10 minutes! I was already in a deconstruction/reconstruction mode back then...!
I might just decide to pick up my gold record after all ;)
PPS: I also had the immense privilege of directing the song’s official video, one I’m incredibly proud of.
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