The Submissives are a strange beast indeed. Ostensibly, they are a six-piece female alt-pop group, taking to the stage in matching white for theatrical performances around their home-town of Montreal, they have drawn a cult following for their offbeat approach to live shows. Though if you dig a little deeper beyond this carefully constructed spectacle of performance, you’ll find that The Submissives is really a solo project, the brainchild of prolific producer Deb Edison. Like The Shaggs with an actual song-writing sensibility, Edison has carved out a unique identity with this project, floating amidst some distorted interpretation of 50s domesticity.
The Submissives are a band and they aren’t. For this first full-length release, Do You Really Love Me?, all the music has been written, recorded and produced by Edison, who recruited a host of non-musicians to play the instruments and perform the songs live. This off-kilter approach to the recording process makes for a cluttered, lo-fi slice of alt-pop, held together by Edison’s knack for dragging unlikely melodies out of nowhere, and her clear sense of the project’s identity. Her warped vision of lovesick pop music makes for an album which is disarmingly direct on the surface, leaving the listener open to Edison’s subversion of the tropes which she cleverly plays upon throughout Do You Really Love Me?
The theme of submission is pretty clear in all facets of this project, the name, the music, the lyrics, even in interviews Deb Edison has been open about her direction for the The Submissives, it’s a sense of giving in to the archaic societal demands frequently placed upon women. The album certainly commences with this identity at the forefront, from the breathy vocal and poppy bass of the title track, all the way through to the near dream-pop drone of ‘Maybe Someday’, the lyrics are pining, conjuring up images of an out-of-time America, with white picket fences, drive-in movies and picturesque diners serving up burgers n’ shakes. Perhaps the summation of this dated feminine identity rings out in the refrain of ‘Perfect Woman’ – “I am the perfect woman, I will do what you tell me”.
Edison is direct and unwavering in committing the project to this surface identity, and it is with this unyielding frankness that the subtleties of Do You Really Love Me? begin to emerge from the monotone, near-bored vocals and the loose rhythms which drive the project. By the time we hit the thematic mid-point of the album, short instrumental interlude ‘Dream Life’, the lyrical protagonist of the album has been relentless in her proclamations of submissive love. Beyond this interlude, things grow somewhat more abstract and the pining gives way to a sort of retrospective longing, despite a realisation of the mundane, oppressive nature of the previously idealised relationship. With cries of “I don’t believe you are the one, but I suppose you could fit” in ‘Boys, Boys, Boys’ the lyricist is no longer convinced of the idyllic nature of the relationship, but she is willing to submit nonetheless. ‘My Guitar’ finally focuses the affection in another direction and when ‘Wasn’t Long Ago’ rolls around, we’re treated to a droning, detuned collapse of all the earlier dreaminess, closing the album with a subversive dig at the gullible lyricism that dominated the opening stages.
Do You Really Love Me? is a loose, often chaotic, exploration of submission and dated ideals of femininity, drenched in longing and idealised encapsulations of decades past. The music is scattered, sparse, often veering close to tuneless noise before Edison pulls it back and drags a melody from the clutter. The amateurish musicianship is a conscious decision and one that really pays off, adding to the album’s identity and allowing Edison a unique medium to explore her theme. Songs like the title track, ‘Forces’ and ‘This Hum’ are downright catchy and the album remains lyrically strong throughout, cutting in its simplicity and a lot deeper than it first appears. With this project, Edison has highlighted the importance of a clear direction, delivering a thematically strong album, dripping in irony and peppered with great noise-pop hooks.
