The Dutchess and the Duke
By William Cremin
Photo by Samanth Updegrave

It was 2002 when longtime friends Kimberly Morrison and Jesse Lortz began playing music together. Two relatively short-lived projects and five years later, the pair self-released a 7-inch single that landed in the lap of Sub Pop Records offshoot, Hardly Art. Before they even played their first show, they were quickly signed and set about crafting their first full length, She’s the Dutchess, He’s the Duke. A low-key affair that employs a stripped-down, humanistic production style, the record stands on its own as a gripping set of mostly downcast folk songs. Even more impressive perhaps is the duo’s success within this idiom given their primarily punk roots.
After taking a closer look at the various bands that they’ve been a part of in the Seattle area, it’s clear to see how the transition could be made. Lortz’s time in the Fe Fi Fo Fums and Morrison’s roles in The Intelligence, The Fall-Outs and Unnatural Helpers all point to a distinct punk/garage aesthetic, but even in such disparate stylistic territory, parallels do exist. The exuberant simplicity of Lortz’s earlier work in particular foreshadowed a sense of compositional elegance that rings through The Dutchess and the Duke’s debut. Before this project came about, he was beginning to feel constricted by the scene he was involved in and decided to write some more introspective material. The result covered more nuanced emotional ground, leaving the band with no distortion-laced diatribes to hide behind. With the increased vulnerability and exposure, this change did not occur without its challenges, but the band agrees that it was inevitable. “It’s kind of like the tide has turned … I’ve always been really narrow in my musical scope. [Kimberly has] always played all sorts of different stuff, so for me, I think it was a little weirder to go from some punk band to this,” Lortz says. Morrison adds, “There’s only so many times you can do the same song in slightly different ways before you just want to do something else.”
That “something else” manifested itself as 10 acoustically based songs adorned with familiar harmonies and universal sentiments. The record’s many charms – conversationally poetic lyrics, audible count-ins, light, roomy percussion and the occasional fret buzz – combine to create a disarming, comfortable environment. As Lortz puts it, “It sounds like people made it.” This gravitation away from modern sounds not only befits the material, it also serves as an indication of a larger trend. Although, due to their punk roots, they do not feel entirely connected to the crop of Seattle-based folk revivalists currently breaking national ground, Lortz does see a shift that seems to be taking place: “As people, we’ve become so far detached from humanity that the pendulum has to swing back eventually. So maybe that’s happening, and the newspapers are writing about it.” This harkening back has been a natural progression for The Dutchess and the Duke, who maintain that they’re not out to simply rehash the past. “We tend to listen to a lot of stuff from that era. It’s not that we’re like, ‘This has to sound totally ‘60s,’ or anything like that,” Morrison says. “It’s just the way that it comes out.”
Along with this organic approach to writing/arranging, years of experience have helped them get to the favorable position they find themselves in today. Both members have earned their DIY stripes, having worn multiple hats in their musical endeavors up until now. Lortz ran his own label, Boom Boom Castle, which put out the single that got Hardly Art’s attention, and Morrison booked tours for the numerous bands that she played with in the past. Now that many of those responsibilities have been lifted off of their shoulders, they’re able to focus exclusively on making music. As Lortz contentedly shrugs, “We just play and make up songs. It is pretty good.”
www.myspace.com/thedutchessandtheduke
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