Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
It would be messy and it's really probably not what The Duke Spirit lead singer Liela Moss would like to see happen, but you get a feeling that witnessing a great collapse would be amusing for her. You get a sense that she could derive some pleasure in seeing something like a scheduled demolition of a big, but infrequently used older and crumbling building. She'd get as close as she could to the danger zone, bringing with her a folding chair and a beverage, perhaps some earplugs for the explosions and she'd watch like a child, rapt at a circus, as the strategic detonations were triggered to bring about the careful felling of a once mighty building that nothing else succeeded at in bringing it down. She'd sit or stand there, with sweaty palms, ready for it all to fall into a heap of dust and chunks. She'd cheer when everything was reduced and the dust had settled some. She'd rise to her feet and that's when she'd approach the microphone and she'd launch into a Duke Spirit song. Guitarist Luke Ford, guitarist Toby Butler, drummer Oliver Betts and bass player Marc Sallis would know exactly what to give her to sustain that feeling of excitement, elation and power that was just witnessed as the building didn't stand a chance against the forces of man and his TNT. Moss seems to cheer on the howling of a night and the snarling of bumper-on-bumper. Not to mislead anyone here, the Duke Spirit is not of the violent mind, but there is a dark propensity toward affliction and those matters that will take one to some unsavory headspaces, where it's not easy to get back from. The collisions and the falls that Moss fancies most are those of the human persuasion, the kinds where we're watching and waiting to see if people are going to fall. We're watching to see what's going to bust out their walls and their corners and topple them right down to their shoes, back down to dirt-level after feeling like they'd had so much made. Moss sings, "Am I moving to the end of your loving?" and it doesn't sound like a scared thought, just one of curiosity. She's anxious to see what will become of all this and she's got the moody roar of her band - the crowd - behind her, following in her footsteps.