From the Archives: An Interview with Ché Aimee Dorval
In 2017, I hit a career milestone: I got the opportunity to interview Ché Aimee Dorval for Lena Dunham’s now-defunct LENNY Letter.
I first heard Ché Aimee Dorval on her collaborative album with Devin Townsend, Casualties of Cool, in 2014. To say that I fell in love is an understatement—her voice was gripping, stratospheric, expansive…a whole stack of adjectives to describe that it literally stopped my breath. Just listen. You’ll see what I’m talking about.
In 2017, I hit a career milestone: I got the opportunity to interview Ché for Lena Dunham’s now-defunct LENNY Letter. It was a big deal for me—not only because I got to talk to one of my absolute favorite artists (how do you chat with someone whose art saved your life?) but because it was this full circle moment. Like a cosmic checkpoint, a reassuring sign that I was on the right path.
It was my favorite interview I’d ever done, and Ché’s too. So we were both extremely bummed when not long after, the publication folded and the piece disappeared.
But, praise be to my very own media outlet and the crypt of my ‘sent’ folder. Enjoy.
In 2007, Vancouver-based singer-songwriter Ché Aimee Dorval won the British Columbia Star Search competition with a last-minute rendition of Sheryl Crow’s “If It Makes You Happy.” Opting out of the mainstream route to musical stardom such a win would have facilitated, in 2009 she moved back home to release her first record, the aptly named Underachiever, a pretty pop-folk debut that established her as a promising new talent on the indie scene. Six years later, she released her second album, the darker, more confident Volume One, and gained a cult following in the metal community after the acclaimed release of Casualties of Cool, a collaboration with legendary musician Devin Townsend.
With layered, evocative vocals that complement her contemplative, old-soul lyricism, Ché’s sound is almost impossible to categorize—at once folksy, bluesy, heavy, and atmospheric, aching and lovely and raw. Imagine a dreamy fusion of Nina Simone with Bat For Lashes’ Natasha Khan.
This winter, Ché will release her third studio album, Between the Walls and the Window, featuring her trademark ethereal vocals hardened by layers of guitar, polyphonic soundscapes, and an almost industrial flourish. We met up to talk about “Buried,” her haunting first single off the album, her inspirations, artistic evolution, the magic of doubles, and the fight women are still up against.
Mila Jaroniec: Talking about Between the Walls and the Window, you’ve said: “Lyrics are important to me and I’ve found that instead of only talking about lost love and feelings of helplessness, I’ve started to comment on social issues. These songs have something to say.” The change from introspection to outrospection is palatable. In “Do You Ever,” the lullaby-esque opener of Volume One, you write, “Do you ever go just a little too far? Do you ever fight to escape who you are?” Whereas in “Buried,” a song that shrinks and swells like waves too big to ride, you write, “Tooth and nail we fought / fist to fist, we came to this / just to halt on a dime / and our body’s purpose / still governed by / those whose bodies don’t / share our design.” What was the pivotal point that led you here?
Ché Aimee Dorval: I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past five years. I’ve gone from being fearful and unsure to someone very centered, partially due to the people I’ve chosen to surround myself with. It’s easy to drown in your neuroses when your surroundings are chaotic, and it’s always been hard for me to avoid conflict. These days my relationships are healthier and I’m rarely insecure—unless I’m holding a guitar in public [laughs]. So, I’ve been able to focus on issues that have a greater reach than my own backyard.
MJ: You could’ve easily become a pop star, and you didn’t. Why was that? Did anyone try to point you in a different direction?
CAD: Everyone tried to point me in a different direction. And I get it—the music business is hard. You have to take opportunities. But I knew then, as I do now, that I am only able to do things I connect with. Writing and singing are how I make this world gentler for myself, so I decided to try and create music that made sense to me. Eventually, it led to Casualties of Cool. And it led to working with Bob Rock. And it led to writing BTWATW, the truest representation of me in my solo work to date. It hasn’t been a smooth road, but it was the right one. I truly believe that if I had chosen the recommended route, I wouldn’t have had the stamina to keep going. Plus, no one would have bought me in that role.
“It hasn’t been a smooth road, but it was the right one. I truly believe that if I had chosen the recommended route, I wouldn’t have had the stamina to keep going.”
MJ: Let’s talk about Casualties. Experimentation is to be expected from Devin Townsend, but this record—this ambient sci-fi dark country record that sounds like “haunted Johnny Cash songs,” per Devin’s summation—was a shock to fans who thought they had placed his sound, and that’s thanks to you. What was the most edifying aspect of this collaboration?
CAD: Before Casualties, I wasn’t really open to writing with anyone else. When I started working with Devin, he fostered an independent and explorative environment, and took me under his wing in every aspect. He was open and eager to teach me whatever I wanted to learn. I became a better guitar player, writer, and producer, and learned to count on myself. This sounds cheesy, but his belief in me helped me believe in myself. I needed that bit of reassurance from someone I respected.
MJ: How was this different from you working independently?
CAD: Much to my chagrin I found that opening up to writing with the right person allows me to reach creative and emotional heights that are harder to reach independently. I’m not so caught up in myself. The stakes don’t feel as high, so the writing comes easier and results in more fully realized songs. That’s not something I’ve been able to do when I listen back to my solo work. There’s too much of only me in it.
MJ: There’s something magical about doubles—about the number 2, specifically—that’s different from collaborations between three or more. How has this played out in your life and music?
CAD: I am an only child and was raised by a single mom. I feel most at home in a duo; it’s easier for me to get to the center of a person—figure out who they are and why they are—when I’m able to focus completely on them. A good creative partnership gives you the chance to see yourself through fresh eyes and make the monotony of being this constant person bearable again, exciting even.
“A good creative partnership gives you the chance to see yourself through fresh eyes and make the monotony of being this constant person bearable again, exciting even.”
MJ: BTWATW has distinctly sharper edges than Volume One—elegant as always but driven and distorted too, like you’d transitioned from “Do I dare disturb the universe?” to “Death will tremble to take us.” Are your braver strides the result of embracing or letting go of fear? Or a balance of both?
CAD: With this record, I was done being a ‘hurt person.’ I wanted to tell my story in a productive way and not be fishing for comfort while telling it. Maybe there’s a sense of ‘fuck you for doing it’ about these songs, but the other side is there too. “Afraid” is about being too scared to make a move in any direction. Regardless of how strong I feel now, that fear still lives in me and occasionally takes center stage. But a little bit of fear is a good thing. It keeps you engaged; it keeps you honest.
MJ: Your record is both. The single “Buried”—about the uphill battle of reproductive rights still at the mercy of these megalomaniac lawmakers—is a wonderful precursor to an album that steps away from lost love and helplessness and onto the battlefield. What made you take up the sword?
CAD: If the last few years have shown us anything, it’s that we’re not as evolved as we thought we were. We live in a time where a man can brag about sexually assaulting women and be elected president of the United States. We are part of a society where you can rape a woman, be convicted, and only have to endure three months of prison time. And those are just the extreme examples of what women and transgender people still have to deal with. The everyday battles we fight may not make it into the news but they are just as oppressive. It’s hard to be a thinking, feeling individual today and not have some of that anger and frustration show in your art. I’m meeting the world on its terms now, but the terms need to be changed.
Your passion shines through in that description of her voice, and at first I thought you were exaggerating—then I listened to that video. And wow! Simply amazing! After this, I might just have to check her out! Thanks for introducing me to her!