Throwing Off the Chains

“Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains.” Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s opening sentence of The Social Contract summarizes his basic belief that humans are innately good; it’s society and our external environment that change us. While written nearly 250 years ago, the prophetic vision of the Swiss philosophe still rings true in the 21st century. On Chains are Broken, The Devil Makes Three explores this theme. The trio’s 11 storied songs serve as an extended study of Rousseau’s 10 famous words.

Disillusion. Disenchantment. Dystopia. Call it what you will. If you watch the news these are the times we are living in. Artists are our voice, trying to make sense of this godawful mess for the rest of us. The Devil Makes Three (frontman Pete Bernhard, guitarist Cooper McBean, and bassist Lucia Turino) offer an allegory for breaking free of the chains that bind us all — whatever those figurative shackles are a toxic relationship, a joyless job, or just the ennui of our everyday existence. This theme weaves throughout the narrative of this finely crafted new record that cuts through the clutter of crap that seeps into our minds via the mainstream media.

For The Devil Makes Three, the theme of breaking free also refers to the rules the band threw out the window for this record. First, the trio invited Stefan Amidon (long-time touring drummer) into the studio sessions to try to recapture the energy and spirit of the band’s live sound. Then they journeyed to Sonic Ranch Studios in El Paso, Texas, to record with producer Ted Hutt (Gaslight Anthem, Dropkick Murphys). The result: a disc you’ll want to keep on repeat. The more you listen the more the songs stick. Catchy choruses will have listeners singing along before each song is done.

Taking inspiration from Rousseau — and the words, styles and themes of Southern writers such as James Baldwin, Ernest Hemmingway, and Flannery O’Connor — the band injects their own musical mix of soul, blues, and a Gothic gospel vibe to these tales. Listen long to digest all the layers of meaning: one chord, one word, and one syllable at a time.

The title cut starts off this joyous journey and speaks the need for release from those ties that bind: “Now it’s chains are broken / I’ve been set free / I was blind, but now I see.” The remainder of the songs roll along with reckless abandon. “Bad Idea” is a song that we all can relate to. It’s simply about doing wrong and making a bad choice even when we know it’s a bad idea. “Native Son” touches on that ugly scar of racism that lurks around every corner, but celebrates with triumph that these “native sons,” no matter the color of their skin, are not leaving. Told from the point of view of a former slave, Bernhard sings in the chorus: “I ain’t going nowhere, ’cause I’m right where I belong / I don’t have to love it and I don’t have to leave it / I ain’t no stranger here, I am your native son.”  

Later, “Pray for Rain” is a spiritual that offers hope. 

“All is Quiet,” with its ominous sound, feels like the perfect song for a spaghetti Western soundtrack. It captures the feeling of that moment of calm before the metaphorical storm. 

The final song, “Curtains Rise,” leaves the listener with hope. The show must go on. It’s not all doom and gloom. We each have the power to break free from our chains. For me, that power is in music. The curtains rise on life each day. It’s up to each of us to find the beauty in the madness.