Local electro-pop outfit Dragonette shot to international fame — and snagged a Juno Award in the process — with the hit song “Hello,” a collaboration with French DJ Martin Solveig. We caught up with lead singer Martina Sorbara to chat about her marriage to band mate Dan Kurtz, the band’s groundbreaking new album and why Richmond Hill will always be home.
When did you know you were going to pursue music as a career?
I don’t think I’ve ever walked around with the idea of having a full-time career in music. It came in increments. I remember I would take the subway to my piano lessons downtown, and I’d pass a busker and think, ‘The only accomplishment I want to have in my life is busking in a subway station.’ And then I did that. So then I thought, ‘All I want to do is play in a coffee shop and sing to people there.’ And then that happened. It just grew like that. I guess the moral of the story is I want to feel challenged and like I’m stepping forward and doing things that excite me.
You grew up in the Richmond Hill area. Does it still feel like home to you?
Yeah. For the past six years while I was living in London, England, we would live at my parents’ house in Richmond Hill whenever we came to Toronto, which was almost half the year. It’s funny because now that I live in Toronto, I’m at my parents’ house less.
Before Dragonette, you released a few solo albums that have been called “Sarah McLachlanesque” — is that a fair description of your early style?
Maybe, though I think my stuff was more jazzy. I listened to her a lot when I was younger. I’ve always been inspired by women’s voices, stories and lyrics and by strong front women.
You and your husband, Dan Kurtz, got together shortly before forming Dragonette. Was it just a coincidence that you happened to have great songwriting chemistry?
It wasn’t right away. I really didn’t know how to get into a creative place with somebody without feeling too self-conscious or too vulnerable. I think we’ve gotten really good at working together, but I still need to be alone while I’m writing lyrics and melodies.
It seems like you draw a lot of inspiration for your lyrics from your relationship. Is it ever hard to be honest because you know he’ll hear every song?
No. I think one way in which I’ve evolved is that I have to allow myself to say anything in a song. Songwriting is my connection to my subconscious. If I don’t let myself go there with songwriting, I won’t go there at all, and then I’ll just be a mess.
In a photo of Dragonette accompanying a 2007 Toronto Star article, you’re sitting naked on Dan’s shoulders. It’s pretty racy!
That was one of the first proper photos taken of us. It was a big fancy photo shoot, and back then I had this idea that this record company (that actually didn’t know me from Adam) had a good idea of who I was and how we should present ourselves. And so we just kind of went with it.
But now you’re more in control of your image?
I think it was toward the end of touring that first album I was like, ‘Oh, actually I know best.’ It’s such a basic concept, but for some reason it took me a while. Since then, I recognize that who I am on my own — without this industry idea of how I should be promoted — is good enough. I should mind my idea of what my own femininity is and what my own sexuality is. My ideas about being a woman are different from what is largely put forward in the entertainment industry. I think one of the most liberating things that happened for me during this band’s career was realizing there’s a reason for me to be as true as possible to myself and to the audience: my idea of what a woman is and how to be strong and feminine is worth something to them. And they don’t want it obscured by somebody else’s idea of what sexy is.
You just played Toronto. How did it go?
We had a fun show, but it’s always just a little bit nerve-racking, for some reason. I don’t get nervous for shows except for in Toronto. My friends are in the crowd, and I just feel like I’m pretending or something. I’m like, wait —should I still be playing the Free Times Café on College Street or is it OK that I’m at the Danforth Music Hall?
