On Pure Economics, Ben Chace trades drama for clarity, letting unease sit restrained and unresolved until the moment instinct and intellect collide and the noise finally drops away.
Released via Capitane Records and written quickly with minimal revision, Pure Economics reflects a world and a personal history, shaped by forces beyond individual control. Co-produced with Nicolas Michaux, the track moves with restraint, letting space, rhythm, and observation lead.
We spoke with Chace about clarity over anger, economics as metaphor, restraint as resistance, and how Pure Economics sets the emotional and philosophical tone for his upcoming EP Homecooking.
I think when a song works, it’s because there is a vibe that the players can easily understand and plug their talents into.
Pure Economics feels deliberately restrained. Why was clarity the right tone here?
We live in a time of so much cognitive dissonance, and this song is about that feeling of unease and trying to see through the noise, to survive, but also to understand the root of the problem. It was written quickly and I didn’t really consider the tone while writing, but I think it matches that feeling which I think we’ve all had, when your head has to come to terms with a gut instinct. That’s the moment described in this song.
“It’s not us — it’s economics” hits quietly but hard. Where did that line come from?
I think that line is from the press release, not the song itself… haha. But that sentiment is there throughout the lyrics. I realised later after writing this song that in some way it was actually about the disintegration of a big relationship in my life, even though at the time of writing, I thought I was commenting on the state of the world. But in either case, it’s referring to these forces that are beyond our control, as individuals living through the collapse of an old order, we are trying to protect our sense of self but also know we’re swimming against a tide that’s bigger than us. It’s a bit depressing I suppose, but could also be the basis for forgiveness.
The song carries unease without anger. Was that a conscious choice?
Not a conscious choice, no. There is a lot to be angry about these days, but I don’t think anger is very productive, at least not in the long term. I grew up as a Buddhist, and one teaching that always stuck out for me is the concept of dependent arising, that all negative actions are the result of underlying causes and conditions, and therefore not inherent to people themselves. From a political perspective these days, I may be completely disgusted with what’s happening in America or Palestine, for example. But if we don’t try and understand the causes and conditions that led to so many millions of people choosing fascism and violence, we won’t be able to really address the problem. So that’s a bit of a high falutin’ answer, but I think that’s kind of what I’m getting at in this song. I’m not ok with this situation, not at all, in fact I’m hurting over it. But the real problem is the underlying situation, not my rival, or my ex or whatever.
It moves slowly but never drifts. How did you decide what not to add?
It was all instinctive. The song was produced in a wonderful collaboration with Nicolas Michaux co-producing. We started with my basic track and then built on that with some amazing musicians tracking one at a time, beginning with Rodriguez Vangama on bass and percussion, then Morgan Vigilante on drums, Nico adding keys and finally the duo Juicy singing backups. It was a really easy process, I think because the vibe of the song was there from the beginning.
Your writing feels observational, almost documentary. How does that shape your songs?
I’m not sure. It’s just how I do it. I’m a filmmaker so I think in scenes a lot of the time. Normally I keep working on a song until it feels true. Sometimes that takes a while, other times (though rarely) it’s good on the first draft. This song was basically a first draft. I didn’t even think we’d record it necessarily, but I sent a bunch of demos to Nico, and he gravitated towards it, so it all happened pretty naturally.
How did you keep the rhythm section subtle but psychologically present?
I think because the vocal rhythm is distinct and kind of has a polyrhythm pattern built into it, it needs that strong groove in the rhythm section to play against. There’s not a big melody in this song, but the lyrical rhythm kind of sets a narrative arc for the song and sets up the payoff when the hook hits, like it could have been played by horn section if we’d had one.
What production choices helped preserve space and vocal clarity?
Like I said it was all pretty instinctive on this one, but Nico’s mixing chops are pretty strong, and we kept our ears open so it all fell into place pretty easily.
Following Stories from the Everyday, how does Pure Economics point toward Homecooking?
I’m not exactly sure, other than that it’s a reflection of where I was at the time it was written and the flavours that everyone who played on it brought to the table. I think you can hear different influences of mine that are recurring in the music, and hopefully get a sense of my perspective in the lyrics.
With collaborators from different worlds, how did that affect the track’s emotional temperature?
It was a great experience to create this with such talented collaborators in the studio. I think when a song works, it’s because there is a vibe that the players can easily understand and plug their talents into. So there was no struggle to find the arrangement on this one. Also because I had worked with everyone who plays on this on my LP recording (which will be released after Homecooking, later this year) so I think I already anticipated the colors they were able to paint with as was creating my little maquette, in my home demos.
If Pure Economics is the entry point, what should listeners understand about your world?
That’s up to them. I wouldn’t want to impose anything on their listening. Take from it what you will. I just hope something resonates.
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