BeatRoute Magazine B.C. print e-edition - October 2016

Daniel Terrence Robertson
finding salvation in the unknown
Glenn Alderson
Daniel Terrence Robertson is sitting at
the end of an empty communal dining
table in the house where he lives in
Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. The
house neighbors Oppenheimer Park and
is part of a cluster of co-op community
living houses tied to the St. James Music
Academy. Every Sunday this table is full
of various characters; some members of
the Academy’s founding families, some
members of the church they belong
to, and some strange yet familiar faces
from the surrounding community who
are hungry and in need of a warm meal.
At the end of every week, without fail,
the house is bustling, full of energy
and, undoubtedly, the grace of God.
This grace is the root of pretty much
everything here in this collection of
brightly coloured antique houses,
brought together by a belief in Christian
values. At this particular moment
the room is silent, void of dinner talk
and scraping of forks on plates, the
only voice heard is that of the deep, low
and incredibly soft-spoken Robertson.
The 22 year old is releasing a somewhat
surprising debut album this month, titled
Death, via Vancouver-based experimental
label Heavy Lark. It’s a collection of eight
beautifully heart wrenching and haunting
piano driven electronic influenced songs.
Imagine Sufjan Stevens on Xanax playing
stark arrangements on a keyboard. The
album has some interesting undertones,
most notably derived from Robertson’s
Christian upbringing. The first single
off the record, “God I’m Sorry,” isn’t so
much of a “Gaaawd, I’m sorry!” but rather
Robertson’s genuine apology to God, the
higher power of whom he is still wrestling
to understand and find a place for in his
adult life.
“I want to be a loving person and
I see so much, be it in my friends and
the pain they’re going through or even
people in this neighbourhood—and every
neighbourhood. I just feel like I’m not
enough or not sufficient,” Robertson says
coyly as he fidgets with the spider plant
on the table in front of him. “I sometimes
end up retreating from the world at times
and that can be hurtful to people. When I
wrote that song I was going through a lot
of change and I didn’t know what I wanted
or what good was.”
Good is Daniel Terrence Robertson.
He’s a good, honest Christian boy, even
if he is wrestling with his ideas of faith
and what to do with them. And while
his songs may be sad and stark, in
conversation he’s actually really sweet
and happy. Standing at about six-feettall,
with a big Supercuts mop of hair on
his head, cheeks rosy, he picks his words
carefully as he talks about the creation
of his debut and its dangerously
vulnerable lyrical content.
“I did not intend to show anyone
these songs,” he says. “Eventually
though, I found myself in a really bad
place and, just out of resignation, I
decided to put them on Bandcamp
and share them with my friends on
Facebook. At that moment I didn’t
care what anyone thought. I just
have to keep reminding myself of that
or just let them be. Let them be those
moments that maybe don’t represent
me currently, but the wholeness of my
being is all of those periods and now and
what’s to come.”
The idea of death and dying
is a morose concept that humans
generally try not to let ruin our already
limited days, but it doesn’t have to always
be so dark. Robertson, like everyone, doesn’t
have an answer for where we go when we
take our last breath, but you get the sense
that he almost enjoys being perplexed and
tortured by the unknown.
“I’ve thought different things at
different times of my life but, more than
ever now, I’m completely confronted with
the mystery of it and I don’t know if I’m
afraid of it. Maybe sometimes, but other
times I don’t think it could be anything
bad or worse than life.”
Daniel Terrence Robertson is not a
depressive person. He’s got a huge heart
and feels a lot, and in large doses empathy
can be painful. Living and working in the
downtown eastside, being surrounded
by poverty and addiction on a daily basis
has certainly had an effect on the way he
Photo by Jules Lemasson Fletcher
Daniel Terrence Robertson wrestles with faith and believing on his debut album, Death.
perceives the world, but he uses his music
as an outlet to express the feelings he
picks up along the way.
“I am drawn to this area,” he says
looking out the window into the park.
“The vulnerability of people. I feel like
people’s walls are less present. It’s in a
sense more honest living and I find myself
wanting to be like that, however that is.
I think that comes through in my songs
too; very honest and without too much
concern of how people will perceive it.”
Daniel Terrence Robertson performs
November 3 at Red Gate.
10 MUSIC
October 2016