Children Of 'The Con'
In the summer of 2007, on the second-to-last Tuesday in July, Tegan and Sara Quin sat perched on a fulcrum. To one side lay a respectable catalog four albums deep, on which songwriting and production ideas wrung from new wave and alt-rock were filtered through folk guitar, pixieish vocals and an impressive series of matching haircuts.
On the other side lay a world most wouldn't have predicted, one where the Quin sisters tour with Katy Perry, appear on Hollywood soundtracks and are among the most vocal and visible LGBTQ artists of their time — all while making gleaming radio pop that couldn't sound more different from the two teenagers teaching themselves Pro Tools all those years ago. The journey from one creative pole to the other is better understood as a steady evolution than a single reinvention — but if there is one dot on that timeline that feels like a definitive turning point, it's 2007's The Con.
The Con wasn't the precise moment Tegan and Sara broke through critically; that would be 2004's So Jealous, which brought widespread recognition and a single that would be covered by The White Stripes. Nor was it really their commercial crossover — that honor goes to 2013's Heartthrob, which debuted in the US at No. 3. But for those who have followed their career, it was a watershed of form — the moment their acoustic and electronic instincts seemed to vibrate at the same captivating frequency.
Produced by Chris Walla, and featuring the session-band equivalent of a fantasy sports team — with players from Death Cab for Cutie, The Rentals and AFI, plus splashes of guitar sorcery from Kaki King — The Con didn't sound quite like anything going in indie rock or mainstream pop. A companion documentary, filled with eye-opening insights into the process (Did you know the shaker on "Back In Your Head" is actually a jar of chocolate-covered sunflower seeds?) portrayed the Quins and their collaborators as disciplined professionals at work. People noticed: Critical writing about the duo began to spend less time on identity bullet points (twins, Canadians, lesbians) and more on dissecting the work — including the lyrics, which carried nested metaphors for marriage equality and sexual self-discovery, if one was inclined to listen for them. As would later become apparent, a generation of young, queer-positive musicians was doing just that.
On July 24, turns 10. Gathered below to appraise the album's 14 songs are 14 artists who say their lives, music and senses of self have never been the same came around. Most were in high school and younger when it was released, years away from forming the bands that would bring them national attention and, in some cases, opening slots on Tegan and Sara tours. (A few, like Vagabon and Japanese Breakfast, are supporting the band right now and emailed their reflections from the road.)
