LUCIDMEDIA

Taking it easy with The Darcys

Written by Rachel Rain Packota Friday, 07 August 2009 15:00

Wes Marskell is a very popular man.

We've barely sat down with our drinks on the patio at Clinton's, and already there's a fan/friend shouting to get the drummer's attention. Marskell is enthusiastic at their appearance, but apologetic: "I'm sorry, I'm happy to see you, but I'm kinda in an interview right now. I promise to come say 'Hi' later."

This scene repeats itself at least another half-dozen times in our 30 minutes together. He is the Man-of-the-Hour on the pub deck: Some approach hesitantly, waving from several feet away, while others practically launch themselves at him over the patio barrier. He seems pleased about it all, but after a while he betrays a sense of embarrassment: "Sorry for all the interruptions...I'm all popular. That's weird."

Can't blame the guy, though. After all, he and his bandmates were VIPs at a Prom tonight for Richview High School, the very same high school he graduated from years ago. The Darcys were approached specially to play the Formal, selected from a multitude of willing and available bands. Marskell thinks it was a very generous offer on their part "given what I put them through while I was a student."

Say no more, Wes. You're scandalous secret is safe with me.

It's hard to imagine any of the Darcys being problem children or troublemakers beyond something like, say, hiding someone's favourite Geni-Soy bar on tour. They do, however, have odd and wicked senses of humour (see their MySpace bio: "band for people who like beards"), and a very advanced sense of musical construction and arrangement. All these blessings would not have been possible had a twist of fate not occurred: Each future member of The Darcys happened to enroll at the University of King's College in Halifax, NS.

"We all grew up in Toronto, [but] we know each other from Halifax in school [where we] started the band," explains Marskell. Dave Hurlow (bassist) and Kirby Best (vocalist/guitarist) are a couple years older than the other members (guitarist Jason Couse and Mike Le Riche on keyboards and guitar) however, so when convocation time at rolled around it seemed that The Darcys, barely begun, were already finished.

"We were all like, $#!t, I guess the band's got to break up. And then we realized we all lived within three blocks of each other [in Toronto]. And so we kept going!"

This year has seen The Darcys strive more than ever to be seen as an established band worthy of recognition. Although Exclaim! and CBC jumped onboard quite quickly, it wasn't until May 2009 that the group really began to feel there was a noticeable quality in their sound. Essentially, Marskell reveals, they were a cover band for much of their early period. They were practicing whatever songs they could in a live setting in order to become proficient at it. "Our theory was [that] the more we play live, the better we'll be at playing live."

What followed, somewhat unexpectedly, was the ability to capture that aptitude on a recording. A quick E.P. was made "just [to sell] it at a couple shows, [to] make some money back from it", but was picked up by a CBC podcast. Their disciplined and detailed arrangements drew immediate attention. Opportunity came knocking at a very early hour. Most bands would have panicked and faltered at such a situation, but not The Darcys.

Next they covered "The CN Tower Belongs To The Dead" by Final Fantasy ("[Owen Pallett] gave us his blessing"), recorded and delivered their first full-length, "Endless Water" ("Thom-Yorke-does-Crazy-Horse" - Toronto Star), and recently awed a faction of imperturbable teenaged graduates ("Three different girls [came and] said 'I love The Darcys, I'm so glad you're playing'. I didn't know anyone under the age of eighteen knew who The Darcys were."). What could be next for them: A gig in Bruno, SK?!

"We want to have our own day." He jests. "Julie Doiron played there and they made a day for her." He laughs. But seriously, he says, "We play everywhere. Bruno will be fun. I think it's a really small town, so everybody goes out to shows."

It's getting close to The Darcys set-time, so Marskell swigs his beer and quickly gushes about the new studio work they're about to do. They start recording their new album in September, but details are still very hush-hush. Word from the man himself is that their Producer is very gossip-worthy themselves. "I can't tell you yet," he confides, "but they're [from], I think, one of the best Montreal bands I've ever heard in my entire life, so I'm really excited about that."

He stands up, shoving a few loonies across the table for our server to pick up later - Even a Prom King pays for his beer once in a while - then glances up. "That's my horn-section for the night", he declares as a lean, lofty young man approaches. "Hey, Tom! You're looking good!"

Marskell turns to me briefly, "Be nice to us when you write, ok? We're sensitive." For a moment he's not a Prom VIP, a Man-of-the-Hour, or a member of a Toronto band, but a musician who is hopeful that someone just "gets it" at the end of the day.

Say no more, Wes. Your secret is safe with me.