Features

Enlarge Image

Enlarge Image

Owen Pallett (JON BERGMAN)

Owen Pallett — the prodigious pop experimentalist formerly known as Final Fantasy — wants to make up for his last Canadian tour.
   
As those at the Winnipeg gig last fall will no doubt recall, the Toronto-based composer/violinist/keyboardist/vocalist was deliriously ill with what he thought was H1N1 but turned out to be a killer combination of strep throat and garden-variety seasonal flu. The tour went on as planned, although Pallett, 31, says the gigs were less than stellar — at least, from what he can remember.
   
"I’m calling this tour my Bouquet of Flowers and Box of Chocolates Tour," he says with a chuckle, over the phone from Texas. "My last Canadian tour was a disaster. I’ve never been so sick. People were really supportive and said a lot of nice things — like, ‘Even when you’re 80% Owen, you’re great,’ but it didn’t feel great. So this is the I’m Going to Make It Up Tour.’"
   
Here’s hoping he doesn’t get run down again. Pallett’s been busy putting his classical composition degree from the University of Toronto to work for other people, assembling string arrangements for Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs as well as for Basia Bulat’s recent performance with Symphony Nova Scotia at the Halifax Pop Explosion.
   
He’s also been on the road constantly since the January release of Heartland, his critically acclaimed third full-length record (and first to be released under his own name). In addition to being featured on festival bills here in North America and across the pond, Pallett has been playing a slew of U.S. dates in support of indie-rock heavyweights such as Arcade Fire, Spoon, Dirty Projectors and, most recently, The National.
   
"Touring with The National has been amazing," Pallett says (he’s still on the road with the Brooklyn-based band when we connect). "Being an opener can be really hit-or-miss, but I feel really comfortable in an opening slot."
   
In Canada, however, Pallett, with his ability to put on visceral live shows often with just his trusty violin and loop pedal, is most definitely a headlining act — a role he’s a bit less comfortable with.
   
"We haven’t really ramped up our production values, which I probably need to look into," he says with a laugh (the ‘we’ refers to  Owen and touring multi-instrumentalist Thomas Gill). "But I’ve always thought that our spartan presentation conveys an honest disclosure, know what I mean? I’ve been hesitant to embrace high production values — but I’m starting to feel like it might be nice if we had some blue lights behind us or something. This will likely be the last tour you’ll see without sets."
   
Whether it’s as a headliner or an opener, Owen has been amused by the response to the live incarnation of Heartland. "It’s been fun to hear people say that I’m a crap performer and that I can’t replicate the record live, and others say that I’m crap on record and can’t duplicate the intensity of the live show," he say. "Somewhere, I’m doing something right — but the truth is, it’s all crap."
   
As far as Canadian music scribes are concerned, the ever self-deprecating Pallett does plenty right. Heartland was nominated for this year’s Polaris Music Prize and was one of two albums by previous winners to be included on the shortlist. Pallett won the inaugural Polaris in 2006 for his sophomore album, He Poos Clouds, while electronic mastermind Caribou, who was shortlisted this year for his latest, Swim, won for Andorra in 2007.
   
"I’m glad I didn’t win — I think it would have been bad for me," he says. "But it was obviously a real honour to be nominated. I think the problem this year is that both Caribou and I made really strong albums — albums that were better than the ones we made that won. It’s a new award, so it’d be great if there was a mechanism in place, like, if you’ve won before, five years need to go by before you can be considered again."
   
Still, it’s not exactly surprising that Heartland made its way onto many a Polaris juror’s ballot. It’s a lush, ambitious and expertly arranged orchestral pop opus based on an involved narrative about a young, misanthropic farmer named Lewis who lives in the imaginary universe of Spectrum and is controlled by an all-powerful narrator named Owen.
   
Just so we’re clear, though, Heartland isn’t meant to be a concept album.
   
"I decided that the whole record should come from a voice that wasn’t my own, and that idea became more refined as I went on — but it’s been a sticking point with me that people have labeled it a concept album," Pallett says. "I think people were expecting some kind of rock opera."
   
While it is built on an over-arching idea, Heartland doesn’t require sequential listening; each of the 12 songs in this collection stand up on their own like individual short stories.
   
"When I was making this record, I was thinking a lot about Brian Wilson’s Smile," Pallett says. "He thought of it as a modular record, in that it can exist as a whole, but you can take each piece out and it can exist on its own. He recorded each song in a different studio so that there’s subtle differences. I didn’t go that far, but I had that idea in mind."
   
Actually, Pallett had a lot of ideas in mind — enough to sustain the recently released A Swedish Love Story, a four-song follow-up EP to Heartland.
   
"Some of it was intended for Heartland, some of it wasn’t," Pallett says of the material on the EP. "The songs that appear on Heartland make up about half of what was written for it. That isn’t to say there’s a deluxe album in the works; the material left off was left off for good reason. Some songs just didn’t fit the tone of the record, others I had trouble with the lyrics. There’s a B-side called A Watery Day that I was having such trouble with. I kept second-guessing what should be sung over top, so I just released it as an instrumental.
   
"Another song, Man With No Ankles (which is included on A Swedish Love Story) was a contender for a Heartland single for a long time, but it was just a bit too poppy and whimsical."
   
While A Swedish Love Story is definitely a more pop-oriented outing than Heartland, it’s every bit as imaginative. It’s interesting that the first album Pallett released under his own name comes from the voice of someone else — not because it’s ironic, but because it’s a reminder that it’s possible to get personal without getting autobiographical.
   
After all, no one but Owen Pallett could have made Heartland.
   
"I’ve always approached my songs the same way," he says. "There are songwriters I love who allow elements of their lifestyles to seep in and inform their lyrical voice. I respect that, but I have a very different approach. I don’t want to fetishize elements of my life.
   
"Besides, my life isn’t exactly rife with lyrical fodder," he deadpans. "I can’t write about riding bikes and drinking in moderation."