Dr. Dog reclaims their essence of whimsy on their reunion self-titled album release
Words by Kate Henderson
On July 19th Dr. Dog returned in full force; this all-encompassing eleventh album is nothing short of their folk-indie legacy that has spanned over the course of two decades. Their self-titled reunion album Dr. Dog is a bittersweet sucker punch packaged with swelling, sublime, and signature quirks. An ode to their namesake, with the distinguishable ability to provoke childlike wonder and yearning like no other, this album is an accumulation of all they do best: eccentricity and honesty.
Groovy and playful, their single “Talk is Cheap” shows how Dr. Dog have stayed true to their indie-rock roots. This song captures their paradigmatic spirit as a band with their skill of blending resolving harmonies that accentuate their keyboard and guitar melodies, contrasting their sometimes strange (but heartfelt) lyrics. Bassist Toby Leaman dedicates this love song for his wife, professing how much in their marriage he relies on her:
“Cause I fell to the bottom and you found me there / Broken and blue and you gave me air / I can't be wrong / Anywhere, when you're right here with me / The sound of nothin' but the wheels / 'Cause baby you're an engine driver / You got me back on the rails / Talk is cheap.”
This single is about security in their relationship and Leaman recognizes he’s only capable of communicating a fraction of this to her; all he can do is wear his heart on his sleeve to prove his sincerity. Honesty is embedded in many of these tracks, offering a vulnerable authenticity that is consistent with their artistic style.
Dr. Dog takes ownership of the way their sound has ebbed and flowed in the indie rock genre over the years, and continues to pull us into their dreamscape with the way they can make even the mundane feel philosophically esoteric. “Fat Dog” does this with ease and familiarity “Starin' out the window, where did all the time go? / We'll be counting on each other, like a sister to a brother / Driving in a cornfield, drawing on the windshield” the violin in the background echos the aches of time passing you by right before your eyes.
They bandage up the raw nostalgia they dig out throughout the album with their first single “Love Struck”, and bare their appreciation for all the unexpected good things that have integrated their way into their lives: “We've got tonight, we've got eternity / You got me taking my time / We took a look and we was guaranteed / You've got the rest of my life.” This song is smitten in the way it professes what it’s like to find a love that makes you feel alive and at ease. Their knack for translating these simple and larger than life moments has come a long way throughout the years of collaboration they’ve experienced as a band. Their story began in Philadelphia 1999, and reaching undeniable success in the 2010s, we can owe their revival to a five-day cabin recording session along the woods in their home state.
Their reflective sentiments of facing relentless change is palpable, but more importantly, their ability to encapsulate the people and places that sustain a memory in a way that defies time itself, is an inescapable trademark of Dr. Dog. Best known for their most viral songs “Where’d All the Time Go,” and “Nellie,” this band has so much to offer over the course of their discography.
Within the magically liminal space their songs demand, they have an unusual ability to bring listeners back to moments where things were both perfect and fleeting. This band has fluency in captivating an audience emotionally, with their gentle and perpetually reminiscent lyricism. Their unconventionality is what makes them original, offering something that can be revisited with something new to offer each time.
On July 13th I had the pleasure of experiencing this phenomenon during the group’s reunion for a hometown show at The Mann, which was as gratifying as it was gut wrenching. Most memorably, with complete recognition of my bias for their earlier work, they commanded the stage with deep cuts “Army of Ancients,” and tenderly reprised “Abandoned Mansion,” On the stage the band was no stranger to the venue that used to be in their backyard, they assured everyone in the audience they hadn’t forgotten “the neon lights on Balitmore.” In my feeble attempt to leave the show during an encore song “The Rabbit, the Bat, & the Reindeer” there was an internal battle. We danced goodbye to one of their most iconic enigmatic ballads, with premature postconcert euphoria.
What made the concert so touching was the way the audience was undeniably connected by their music, which spanned generations of listeners. I am sure I am not the only person who felt how much had changed since the first time I stumbled upon one of their tracks; I remember their music distinctly in my headphones, part of the soundtrack to my high school drawing course. In “Tell Your Friends” they confront the way their music has grown and advanced over time— from Shame, Shame going platinum in the early 2010s to still being relevant in recent years with its resurgence within sped-up indie-alt TikTok audios. To gain traction from prominent singles released on a decade-old album speaks to the way their music has transcended remarkable success as a band.
“Now that I'm old and wiser, it's a shame to see the past / Holding a blurry imagе of the years that slipped through thе cracks / Some of them made me happy, some of them made me sad / All of the things that felt right didn't happen overnight”
“Tell Your Friends” provides the overarching theme of this album to me; although the band is not breaking up, the track hints they will not be touring anymore after this album. It is bittersweet to move on to their next chapters of life, but the legacy they’ve created is something that has reached many wallflowers and free-spirited listeners throughout their careers. “Tell all your friends you love them, you don't see them every day” is the closing line of the song that brings home the farewell emotions of this album. It is a full circle moment for the album to be self-titled; in a way it is reminiscent of their humble beginnings and recognizes how they’ve evolved as a band.
This album is a great way to be introduced to the band’s sound if you aren’t already familiar; it will take you through a paradox of charming in-between mournful feelings. Stream Dr. Dog and unlock another indie-folk hyperfixation to add to your end-of-summer playlists (thank me later).
