Speaking with Dan Mangan, it quickly becomes clear how much thought goes into his lyrics. Every song is like a snapshot of a larger story, with clearly defined themes and images that exist in his mind. His songs aren't simply a collection of nice-sounding words and melodies, but a sincere attempt to uncover an insight about life.
So, when Exclaim! asked the Vancouver singer-songwriter to rank his five best songs, he looked at his lyrics first. "I have catchier songs," he says. "More successful songs. None of these songs have been on the radio. But each time I've had a song on the radio, it's felt like a happy accident. I suppose the question I asked was, 'Does this song unlock or expose hidden truths about existing?'"
This isn't to say that melodies and arrangements aren't important to Mangan. His newest album, Being Somewhere (out today through Arts & Crafts), was meticulously produced in a remote collaboration with Drew Brown (Radiohead, Beck), resulting in an album that grafts Mangan's tender tunes onto an intricate tapestry of ambience, honeyed keyboards and electroacoustic orchestrations.
To mark the release of Being Somewhere, explore Mangan's own list of his five best songs below — including a radio song that he "ruined" by turning it into a ballad, a tribute to his grandfather than was written in a burst of inspiration on the bus, and a Being Somewhere track that he thinks of as "quintessentially me."
Check out the list below, and see other artists' rankings of their own songs in past instalments in Exclaim!'s High 5 feature.
5. "Easy"
Being Somewhere (2022)
I think in my body of work, there are pieces that are "song songs," which could be sung by anybody. They fit into the commonly understood canon of what a song should be. "Fool for Waiting" is a good example. These songs tend to be more popular, and more placable in TV shows and films.
And then there are songs that are kind of quintessentially... me. They're holistically entwined with my sense of humanity's shortcomings. They're less universal and often less successful — but I have to say, they're the ones I'm often most proud of, because they feel like an offering to the ocean of music that nobody else could give.
"Easy" feels like a marriage of these two worlds. The form is predictable, but there's something very "me" in how it unfurls. There's a surrender. An acknowledgement that I need help to "get there." Sometimes I feel like I know how to be easy, but a lot of the time I feel like otherwise pleasant moments are sullied by my tendency to sink into ennui.
Shake my branches till I fall
I'm somewhere between here and nowhere at all
Show me out to be easy
And make me believe it — that I could be easy
4. "Mouthpiece"
Club Meds (2015)
"Mouthpiece" is without question a "me" song. I worked on the lyrics for at least a year. I'd been spending time with David Bazan's Strange Negotiations record, and it helped me begin to articulate my politics. Until that point, I'd not been confident I could do so without coming across as soapbox-y. But this song was a real turning point for me. I'd also just finished reading The Handmaid's Tale. It has one of my favourite lyrics I've ever written:
I want to breathe in all the ashes of the books they tried to burn
I want to feel the pages in my skin and understand the words
3. "Lay Low"
More or Less (2018)
"Lay Low" is more of a "song song," but I love it. The message is clear and obvious, and I give myself an internal pat on the back every time I sing the lyric, "Every single party needs a no-show." I also love how satisfying the melody is — you know where it's going to land before it lands. It gives you an itch and then scratches it. Call and answer.
I wrote this song with Ryan Guldemond of Mother Mother. We'd figured out the melody in his apartment, but the lyrics weren't coming easily. The Strumbellas' song "Spirits" was a huge hit at the time, and we were yelling the phrase "SAY SO!" We thought that's what the song would be called. There was a raucous type of treatment. Loud. Shouty. Felt like a big single. Then I went home and completely ruined this smash hit vision by turning it into a painfully soft song about avoiding all that noise.
Sorry, Ryan.
2. "Basket"
Nice, Nice, Very Nice (2009)
By far my most requested song. I wrote this shortly after my grandfather died. When I was a kid, I'd spend the afternoons with my Nan and Pop after school. In the cabinet beneath their television, there was a basket filled with letters, notes and greeting cards that they'd kept over the decades. Toward the end of Pop's life, his mind started to fall apart. He'd confuse me with his brother Wendell, who'd died in a tractor accident half a century before I was born.
I started to piece together that the stories we accumulate really make up whatever it is that we are. They shape us. The basket filled with letters was like an abridged story of their lives. And so, what if there's a hole in your basket? The stories are falling away. Are you still you? This song is a call to arms to stay lucid for as long as possible. It's partly why I'm into crosswords.
For the most part, I'm a slow writer — often, it takes me weeks or months to be certain about a song. This one came in a single burst of inspiration on a transit bus between my home on Commercial Drive and the University of British Columbia, where I was going to school at the time.
1. "No Tragedy Please"
Being Somewhere (2022)
Artists are always most excited about what's new. I feel like this song articulates the pain of existence better than anything else I've penned. But also the love. That the fear of losing is equal to the joy of having, and that it's all worthwhile.
When I sent this song to Drew Brown, he said, "Well we know what the album's closer will be." "No Tragedy Please" is a bit of a hypothesis and conclusion all wrapped in one. It's also a plea to the invisible hands. That life is hard and that's okay, but please, please spare me the excruciating evisceration of true tragedy.
So maybe too many things really matter to me?
And maybe loss just affirms the value of everything?
Maybe love is a curse and we'll never be free?
Maybe there in the sting lies the real poetry?
So, when Exclaim! asked the Vancouver singer-songwriter to rank his five best songs, he looked at his lyrics first. "I have catchier songs," he says. "More successful songs. None of these songs have been on the radio. But each time I've had a song on the radio, it's felt like a happy accident. I suppose the question I asked was, 'Does this song unlock or expose hidden truths about existing?'"
This isn't to say that melodies and arrangements aren't important to Mangan. His newest album, Being Somewhere (out today through Arts & Crafts), was meticulously produced in a remote collaboration with Drew Brown (Radiohead, Beck), resulting in an album that grafts Mangan's tender tunes onto an intricate tapestry of ambience, honeyed keyboards and electroacoustic orchestrations.
To mark the release of Being Somewhere, explore Mangan's own list of his five best songs below — including a radio song that he "ruined" by turning it into a ballad, a tribute to his grandfather than was written in a burst of inspiration on the bus, and a Being Somewhere track that he thinks of as "quintessentially me."
Check out the list below, and see other artists' rankings of their own songs in past instalments in Exclaim!'s High 5 feature.
5. "Easy"
Being Somewhere (2022)
I think in my body of work, there are pieces that are "song songs," which could be sung by anybody. They fit into the commonly understood canon of what a song should be. "Fool for Waiting" is a good example. These songs tend to be more popular, and more placable in TV shows and films.
And then there are songs that are kind of quintessentially... me. They're holistically entwined with my sense of humanity's shortcomings. They're less universal and often less successful — but I have to say, they're the ones I'm often most proud of, because they feel like an offering to the ocean of music that nobody else could give.
"Easy" feels like a marriage of these two worlds. The form is predictable, but there's something very "me" in how it unfurls. There's a surrender. An acknowledgement that I need help to "get there." Sometimes I feel like I know how to be easy, but a lot of the time I feel like otherwise pleasant moments are sullied by my tendency to sink into ennui.
Shake my branches till I fall
I'm somewhere between here and nowhere at all
Show me out to be easy
And make me believe it — that I could be easy
4. "Mouthpiece"
Club Meds (2015)
"Mouthpiece" is without question a "me" song. I worked on the lyrics for at least a year. I'd been spending time with David Bazan's Strange Negotiations record, and it helped me begin to articulate my politics. Until that point, I'd not been confident I could do so without coming across as soapbox-y. But this song was a real turning point for me. I'd also just finished reading The Handmaid's Tale. It has one of my favourite lyrics I've ever written:
I want to breathe in all the ashes of the books they tried to burn
I want to feel the pages in my skin and understand the words
3. "Lay Low"
More or Less (2018)
"Lay Low" is more of a "song song," but I love it. The message is clear and obvious, and I give myself an internal pat on the back every time I sing the lyric, "Every single party needs a no-show." I also love how satisfying the melody is — you know where it's going to land before it lands. It gives you an itch and then scratches it. Call and answer.
I wrote this song with Ryan Guldemond of Mother Mother. We'd figured out the melody in his apartment, but the lyrics weren't coming easily. The Strumbellas' song "Spirits" was a huge hit at the time, and we were yelling the phrase "SAY SO!" We thought that's what the song would be called. There was a raucous type of treatment. Loud. Shouty. Felt like a big single. Then I went home and completely ruined this smash hit vision by turning it into a painfully soft song about avoiding all that noise.
Sorry, Ryan.
2. "Basket"
Nice, Nice, Very Nice (2009)
By far my most requested song. I wrote this shortly after my grandfather died. When I was a kid, I'd spend the afternoons with my Nan and Pop after school. In the cabinet beneath their television, there was a basket filled with letters, notes and greeting cards that they'd kept over the decades. Toward the end of Pop's life, his mind started to fall apart. He'd confuse me with his brother Wendell, who'd died in a tractor accident half a century before I was born.
I started to piece together that the stories we accumulate really make up whatever it is that we are. They shape us. The basket filled with letters was like an abridged story of their lives. And so, what if there's a hole in your basket? The stories are falling away. Are you still you? This song is a call to arms to stay lucid for as long as possible. It's partly why I'm into crosswords.
For the most part, I'm a slow writer — often, it takes me weeks or months to be certain about a song. This one came in a single burst of inspiration on a transit bus between my home on Commercial Drive and the University of British Columbia, where I was going to school at the time.
1. "No Tragedy Please"
Being Somewhere (2022)
Artists are always most excited about what's new. I feel like this song articulates the pain of existence better than anything else I've penned. But also the love. That the fear of losing is equal to the joy of having, and that it's all worthwhile.
When I sent this song to Drew Brown, he said, "Well we know what the album's closer will be." "No Tragedy Please" is a bit of a hypothesis and conclusion all wrapped in one. It's also a plea to the invisible hands. That life is hard and that's okay, but please, please spare me the excruciating evisceration of true tragedy.
So maybe too many things really matter to me?
And maybe loss just affirms the value of everything?
Maybe love is a curse and we'll never be free?
Maybe there in the sting lies the real poetry?
