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Debbie

by Scott Lavene

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about

Scott Lavene today announces his third album 'Disneyland In Dagenham' due for release May 10 2024, led off by beautifully bonkers 'Debbie'. A born storyteller, through his records and his writing ­– he sends out monthly short stories under the title ‘Bits & Bobs’ via his mailing list and is currently working on his first novel – Lavene has long been populating a hallucinogenic world of his own creation with ne’er do wells, ragamuffins and eccentrics. 'Debbie', the latest example, is a bizarre and semi-fictional song about fading love, based around a transfixingly woozy guitar line.

“It’s a fucking weird song, but also my favourite thing I’ve ever done. So how could I not include it?” Lavene says. “The album is really about saying fuck the rules, write whatever you like.”

Whether lyrically, or through music that leaps from spiky psychedelia to flute-driven crooning, driving wah-wah rock n roll to a sleazy Serge Gainsbourg-esque shuffle, the upcoming Disneyland In Dagenham is a record that’s frankly bonkers in its scope. For the first time he’s completely abandoned any pretence of coolness. “I was not afraid to include everything that I like, whether or not it’s really eccentric. I wasn’t afraid of just making the record that I wanted.”

He made it at swift pace Benjamin Woods of The Golden Dregs, after Lavene sold a guitar to pay for a week at Greenwich’s Vacant TV studios. It was a cold December and they were limited for both time and gear so they recorded quickly in hats and coats, Woods adding drums and occasional guitar and synth. It was fleshed out later with some further home recordings and friends’ contributions on saxophone, flutes and percussion.

After a triumphant set at End Of The Road Festival, he then capped 2023 opening for The Hold Steady proper at the band’s legendary annual New York residency. Craig Finn, front man of The Hold Steady who has Lavene opening for him across the UK this month, is among the many converted to Lavene’s work, and he appears on Disneyland In Dagenham opener Paper Roses. Finn had Tweeted about his enjoyment of Lavene’s music while he was in the studio with Benjamin Woods. “I’m not very good at self-promotion but I was with someone who was. Benjamin was like, ‘Fucking tweet him back! Get him on the album! We went for a coffee and he asked me to go on tour with him, it’s a relationship of mutual admiration really. And what a bloody gift he’s given me – I’ve definitely stolen quite a lot of Hold Steady fans.”

It’s not hard to see why. Though in person he’s thoughtful and softly-spoken, onstage Lavene is a born entertainer; a comedian, raconteur and storyteller as much as a musician. “I’m like a Butlins Redcoat,” he jokes. "It doesn’t matter if it’s 10 people or 1,000, I can entertain a crowd with a drum machine and a guitar. I like when people say that they can be laughing, then crying literally five seconds later within the same song.” It’s a safe bet, then, that in the wake of Disneyland In Dagenham there’ll be plenty more converts to follow. After all, Lavene jokes, “I’m like The Beatles, but a little bit Tom Waits, a little bit Whitesnake, a little bit Chas & Dave, and a little bit power ballads.” All worthy comparisons, but ultimately Scott Lavene is the kind of artist that can be compared only to himself.

lyrics

All the fancy machines are on the floor in the lounge and they’re switched on, Humming. Bleep bleep. Bloop bloop.
Debbie’s an inventor, she’s trying to build a rocket.
“You’re in the way”, she says.
“And get me another extension lead.
Oh, and take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster.”
Take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster.

Outside, the moon is lavender blue, and curved liked a kitten. The light on the fish and chip shop is flicking on and off, and buzzing like a bag of wasps. Kids are throwing stones at a white circle drawn on a garage door, 10 points. clang, clang, clang clang, clang clang. It’s not a toaster.
Take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster.

“It’s a nice evening,” I say. “Can’t we go out? You could save the inventing for winter.”
“I need to be gone by October,” she says. “I have a mission from Zeus.
I am a constructor of empires for future generations. I am the saviour of all our filthy souls. I am Debbie.”

“Do you want some more juice Debbie?” I say. But she don’t reply.
Take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster.

I’ve got an itch on my leg. I’m not going to itch it. I’m going to think about something to make it go away just like astronauts do. I think about how many loafs of bread it would take to build a staircase to the moon. I think about Debbie before she became an inventor. She worked in the make up department of Debenhams. She always smelt like a box of roses and her hair was slick like she’d got out of the bath even though she hadn’t. She looked like one of those women in the Robert Palmer video when they’re all pretending to play instruments while he sings about being addicted to love. I used to be addicted to love. I loved so much that I run out of underpants. I loved so much that I know how to escape from a block of flats without using any doors.
Take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster.

That itch is still there.
“Here Debbie, Can you invent me a pair of magic trousers?”
“What do you want them to do?”
“I want one pocket to stay full up with cash and one pocket to stay filled up with cold custard”
Debbie drinks her glass down in one and hands me the empty vessel, covered in sooty fingerprints and a greasy mark from her lips.
“We need more juice,” she says. “And I need fuses. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of fuses.”
Take the bread out of that, it’s not a toaster

credits

released February 13, 2024
Words & music by Scott Lavene

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Scott Lavene England, UK

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