Singer, songwriter, music producer, visual artist, and writer Neko Case is the consummate career artist — fearless and versatile, with a fierce work ethic and a constant drive to search deeper within herself for creative growth. “One of America’s best and most ambitious singer-songwriters” (Rolling Stone) and “essentially peerless” (NPR), Case has long been revered as one of music’s most influential artists, whose authenticity, lyrical storytelling, and sly wit have endeared her to a legion of critics, musicians, and lifelong fans. In addition to numerous acclaimed and GRAMMY-nominated solo records, Case is a founding member of Canadian supergroup The New Pornographers. She is the author of The New York Times bestselling memoir ‘The Harder I Fight the More I Love You’ and the weekly Substack newsletter ‘Entering The Lung,’ and is currently composing the musical theater adaptation of the Academy Award-winning motion picture ‘Thelma & Louise.’

John Grant began thinking about The Art of The Lie in the Autumn of 2022. Earlier that year, John had been introduced to Ivor Guest, producer and composer at Grace Jones’ Southbank show, the finale of her Meltdown Festival. They began talking about two records Guest had worked on, ‘Hurricane’ for Jones, ‘Prohibition’ for Brigitte Fontaine. “Grace and Brigitte are two very big artists for me,” says Grant. “I love the albums he did for them. ‘Hurricane’ is an indispensable piece of Grace’s catalogue.” An idea was sparked. “I said, I really think you should do this next record with me. He said, I think you’re right.”

A year and a half later, the result is John Grant’s most opulent, cinematic, luxurious album yet: The Art of The Lie. As the title suggests, the lyrical ingenuity counterweighted under all this considered musical largesse is as dark as its production is epic and bold. Ivor Guest and his cast-list of storied musicians have brought the drama, flecks of intrigue as beguiling as Laurie Anderson or The Art of Noise. John Grant has earthed it in deeply felt humanity and pitch-black realism. “The clothing that it’s dressed up in makes it more palatable,” he says. “It helps the bitter pill go down. Music and humour are how I’ve always dealt with the dark side of life. Come to think of it, it’s how I deal with the good side too.”

That is the chink of light slipping through the greying clouds of a world depleting. Beauty exists. John Grant will allow himself to see it. There is a bottle of salt he keeps in his home in Iceland, a gift from a fan, with a ribbon attached at the top. “There’s a little note on the top of it,” he recalls. “It says ‘each grain of salt contained herein represents a time that your songs have saved my life.’ That was truly a precious gift and it helps to look at that when things get very dark.”