Nowadays, it’s different. “Music doesn’t have the same weight. It doesn’t have the same energy for me. It doesn’t have the same motivation, inspiration.” Even at the club, “the music makes you more depressed than anything. You see people drinking and dancing, but for the wrong reasons. At the same time, people are back in Iraq suffering and dying.”
“I know what it’s like to grow up in a war zone,” says Grear. “I relate better with the Iraqi children. How it is to grow up poor and dealing with fear and people wanting to kill you.”
When he first came back from Iraq, he had some issues with post-traumatic stress disorder. But producing, making beats, and writing lyrics have given him an outlet, says Grear. “I get in the studio and I make the music. I have enough motivation, enough strength, and enough courage to keep on moving.”
Westergaard says he and Grear come from very different backgrounds, “but we both try to make the best of things. What drew me to Denoh was his attitude. He was always trying to cheer people up and bring morale up. When we were in Iraq, we were taking a lot of photos and we saw a lot of different opinions and views. Iraqi Chronicles is a way to talk about that.”
The concept is “for it to be diverse, not just one person sharing stories,” says Westergaard, who’s primarily a poet, but has penned some scripts that reenact some of his and Grear’s experiences. “There’s a lot of misunderstanding and propaganda about Iraq. There’s not enough discussion in a positive direction. A lot of it is just rhetoric. We want new people, young people, different, diverse people to have a voice.”
Grear and Westergaard have complex feelings about the military. The bonds they formed in the Army are lifelong and profound. But war, as always, is hell. With Iraqi Chronicles, they want to use the tools of music and film to show that duality. “Hear the music of a soldier,” says Grear. “See their movies. Pay attention to the stories of others. That’s how you’re patriotic. That’s how you support the troops.”
