Exploring the Cosmos Behind Every Track on Dear Dear’s death of a fairytale

Beam back into the 1960s with the multi-talented artist Chase Cohl’s album death of a fairytale—released today under her Dear Dear moniker. A love letter to the 60s, death of a fairytale is packed with toe-tapping melodies, dramatic string sections and robust choral harmonies. The 8-track album continues the retro sound she and producer Barry Goldberg captured on Chase’s debut EP Dear Dear: Volume 1. Bringing back the charm of full studio recordings with layered instrumentation of tambourines, keys and drums, all paired effortlessly with Cohl’s powerfully smooth vocals, death of a fairytale brandishes a vintage landscape for tales of romance and the plight of womanhood—a fitting theme for a record bursting with adoration of girl group legends such as The Ronettes, Dusty Springfield, The Shirelles and The Crystals.

death of a fairytale is a warm embrace of a timeless sound welcoming the musings of modern feminism. We’re ecstatic to share this special look into each song on the album, provided to us by Cohl herself. So hit play and transport yourself to Dear Dear’s wonderland filled with honest confessions and stories of healing.

“Different Language”

That feeling of being in a relationship and, no matter how hard you try to explain yourself, the person you’re with just can’t get it. It’s not that they don’t hear you, it’s that they don’t feel you. Beyond maddening and can be incredibly disheartening. I kept coming back to the idea of seeing “ear to eye,” two people expressing with entirely different senses, like the most extreme version of a language barrier. Language barrier of the soul.

“Natural”

The whole ethos of this record was to try to bring joyful sound into taboo, to sort of detonate the discomfort. This one just came from being in LA, seeing all of this addiction to constantly try to update the face, the body, get the work, work, work done. It wasn’t written out of judgement, more out of a desire to inspire. I’ve always been attracted to original faces, subjective beauty, that’s what gets me going personally. Give me a crooked nose, fucked up teeth, a scar, I want it all. That’s someone’s story, and there’s such a strength to discovering someone’s beauty. It’s like finding a unique treasure. Even discovering one’s own beauty. I just want all of those people to understand that is something to be cherished not hidden or made to look like the rest of the fray. That true confidence comes from within someone’s bones, from really doing the self discovery. Perhaps I needed to hear it a bit myself, too.

“A Woman’s Fault”

Also a song I needed to hear. A gift I had to give myself, to fill my own cup. I’ve had a lot of women come to me saying the same thing since this song came into the world. So much pressure on women to hit these timeline milestones, to avoid turning into “the spinster.” So much antiquated, silly thinking. I want women to understand that, when we’re told our lives are ending, they’re only beginning. Corny, perhaps, but real. I only like myself better the older I grow.

“Happy Birthday”

Ahhh, the dull and awkward pain of an ex’s birthday popping into your head (or up on your calendar reminder). Do you text? Do you call? Remind them you exist or let them enjoy themselves in peace?! Do you rehash all the old memories, stalk them on Instagram, wonder who they’re spending it with, shoot of a quick text? No, you write a song about it. Songwriting has always been, for me, a gift to fill my cup when it feels as though the world hasn’t. To fill in the cracks where the words of affirmation I need don’t yet exist or haven’t been delivered. Healing stuff.

“Wish I’d Never”

Healing from rejection, but give it a great beat and a fuck ton of strings so it sounds nostalgic and tender. That kind of rejection where the person doesn’t know you well enough to really reject *you* at the core so the only safe assumption is it’s gotta be your looks or breath or or a stupid quote you posted or an untrue rumor, something very surface level. Paper-cut rejection, stings way more than it should.

“Warm As The Sun”

This one was inspired by my co-writer Barry and a beach affair he had in the ’70s, which spiraled into a conversation about the annoying desperation of wanting so badly to be in long term love and realizing that nope, this one is just going to be another lesson to make you a stronger person or get you one step closer to where you ultimately want to be.

“Technicolor”

A sort of double entendre, falling in love with the right partner that in turn pushes you to fall in love with yourself. Someone who gives you enough space to dig deep on your own stuff. That’s what works for me, now that I’m more grown, I need a lot of breathing room in love, someone who really just allows me to catch the air on my own and witness it all, see every color of the rainbow & doesn’t try to change a thing about you.

“After The Storm”

I love the process of record making. I always come in all organized, prepared, so much intention. Ultimately the record always tells you what it’s going to be after a few days getting a group of players together. I’m not a fly by the seat of your pants kind of player, but every single time I’m in the studio one kind of appears out of thin air. Usually it ends up being quiet, reflective, often the last song on the record. Sort of like the psyche provides the cherry on the sundae and my hands and mouth just deliver it. Always feels sort of divine.

After making this incredibly full community based record, producing for the first time, wearing so many hats, it felt like a homecoming to just finish with a vocal and piano. That last line “I was always meant to be alone again with my song,” really feels like the most honest line of the project in so many ways. There’s no costume on that one, no character being played. So much self discovery in making this whole project, that it felt really healing to just get back to being alone, this sort of incredibly quiet & powerful grand finale.