DEAR TELEPHONE

Biography

Founded in 2010, Dear Telephone are Graciela Coelho, André Simão, Ricardo Cibrão and Pedro Oliveira. They were inspired by the 1976 short-film “Dear Phone” by Peter Greenaway, to express their will to decant soap operas and cheesy pocket paperback dramas through hard, frugal, minimalist compositions.
Their first EP "Birth of a Robot" was released by PAD in March/2011 and presented live in venues such as, Theatro Circo, Hard Club (with Anna Calvi) or in festivals like Optimus Primavera Club, Milhões de Festa, among others. They’re included in the compilation "Novos Talentos Fnac 2011" and represented Portugal in the August 2011 edition of "Music Alliance Pact." They spent the end of 2012 in the process of composing their first album – Taxi Ballad - which was released in May 2013.
This year of 2013, as well as part of 2014, was mostly dedicated to the album tour, from small theatres such as Centro Cultural Vila Flor – Guimarães or Powerlunches – London, to bigger concert halls like Casa da Música, to major festivals such as Primavera Sound - Oporto. The band ended the tour in 2015, with a series of concerts in venues such as Centro Cultural de Belém – Lisbon and a mini-tour in Belgium.
2016 was spent composing the second album, named "Cut", recorded in 2017 by Nelson Carvalho at Valentim de Carvalho Studios (previously EMI Studios) and released in october. Following the presentation concerts, still in 2017, the year of 2018 will be fully dedicated to the album live tour.

Formados em 2010, os Dear Telephone reúnem Graciela Coelho, André Simão e Ricardo Cibrão e Pedro Oliveira. Inspiram-se no nome da curta-metragem de Peter Greenaway “Dear Phone” – 1976, para deixar expressa a vontade de decantar soap operas e melodramas de bolso, em composições duras e frugais.
Editam o primeiro registo em março de 2011 pela PAD, o EP “Birth of a Robot”, entusiasticamente recebido pela imprensa e apresentado ao vivo em salas como o Theatro Circo, Hard Club (c/ Anna Calvi) ou em festivais como o Optimus Primavera Club e Milhões de Festa, entre outros. Integram a compilação “Novos Talentos Fnac 2011” e representam Portugal na edição de agosto 2011 do “Music Alliance Pact”. Ocupam o final de 2012 no processo de composição do primeiro longa duração - Taxi Ballad - editado em Maio de 2013, ano que dedicam integralmente à tour de apresentação deste registo, do Centro Cultural Vila Flor – Guimarães, Casa da Música até ao Optimus Primavera Sound.
Em 2014 fazem a estreia fora de Portugal, no Powerlunches -Londres e preparam simultaneamente os concertos de encerramento da tour – que termina no final de 2015, com uma mini-tour na Bélgica e passagem pelo Centro Cultural de Belém.
2016 foi o ano de composição do segundo álbum, gravado em 2017 com Nelson Carvalho nos Estúdios Valentim de Carvalho e edição agendada para outubro do mesmo ano. Após os concertos de apresentação, ainda em 2017, o ano de 2018 será inteiramente dedicado à tour de "Cut".

Discography

Cut
PAD, 2017

ANDRÉ SIMÃO electric bass · electric guitar on tracks 1, 5, 6, 7, 9 · keyboards on track 3 · piano on tracks 2, 5 · vocals
GRACIELA COELHO keyboards · vocals
PEDRO OLIVEIRA drums · percussion
RICARDO CIBRÃO electric guitar

FERNANDO RAMOS alto saxophone
ROMEU COSTA alto and baritone saxophone on tracks 1, 2, 4, 6, 7,
ALEXANDRINA SARAMAGO, ANA SOFIA VINTENA, JOSÉ FERNANDO VALE, NUNO AREIA and RITA FERNANDES vocals on tracks 1, 2, 4, 8, 9

All tracks written by ANDRÉ SIMÃO, GRACIELA COELHO, PEDRO OLIVEIRA and RICARDO CIBRÃO
Saxophone arrangements written by ANDRÉ SIMÃO
Vocal ensemble arrangements written by NUNO AREIA
Lyrics by ANDRÉ SIMÃO

Recorded, mixed and produced by NELSON CARVALHO at Estúdios Valentim de Carvalho · Paço de Arcos, PT
Mastered by ANDY VANDETTE at Andy Vandette Mastering · New York, USA
Saxophone and choir recordings by JOSÉ ARANTES at our rehearsal room

Photography by ANDRÉ TENTUGAL
Styling by CARLA PONTES
Design by GRACIELA COELHO

---

Released October 27, 2017

SIDE A
1. FUR
2. SLIT
3. AUTOMATIC
4. CUT
5. NIGHTHAWKS

SIDE B
6. TURNOVER
7. FROM THIS PLACE WHERE I AM STANDING
8. VIEW
9. THE FIRST PERSON EVER

Taxi Ballad
PAD, 2013

ANDRÉ SIMÃO electric bass on tracks 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9 · electric guitar on tracks 1, 2, 6, 7 · keyboards on track 6 · vocals
GRACIELA COELHO keyboards · vocals
PEDRO OLIVEIRA drums · programming
RICARDO CIBRÃO electric guitar on tracks 1, 3, 4, 5, 9 · keyboards · lap steel guitar on tracks 4, 7

Extra special guest TIAGO C. field recordings on track 9

Tracks 1, 2, 7, 8 written by ANDRÉ SIMÃO, GRACIELA COELHO, PAULO ARAÚJO and PEDRO OLIVEIRA
Tracks 2, 4, 5, 9 written by ANDRÉ SIMÃO, GRACIELA COELHO, PEDRO OLIVEIRA and RICARDO CIBRÃO
Track 3 originally written by GILLIAN WELCH and DAVID RAWLINGS
Lyrics by H. GONELIGHTLY

Recorded by JOSÉ ARANTES, assisted by JOÃO BRANDÃO, at Estúdios Sá da Bandeira – Porto, PT
Vocal tracks recorded by JOÃO BRANDÃO
Mixed by JOSÉ ARANTES at l-house – London, UK
Produced by DEAR TELEPHONE and JOSÉ ARANTES
Mastered by JJ GOLDEN at Golden Mastering – Ventura, U.S.A.

Photography by SÉRGIO MOURA
Design by GRACIELA COELHO and DEAR TELEPHONE

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Released May 6, 2013

1. O DEAREST KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR
2. THAT VIOLIN LESSON SUCKS
3. REVELATOR
4. FIT AND PROPER
5. SUNSET PRINT ON POSTCARD
6. EVERYTHING WE KNOW
7. LET ME REST ON YOUR COUCH
8. HARDLY THE KIND OF STUFF TO INSPIRE SOCIAL CHRONICLERS
9. PASSENGERS

Birth of a robot
PAD, 2011

ANDRÉ SIMÃO electric bass · electric guitar · vocals
GRACIELA COELHO vocals
PAULO ARAÚJO keyboards · sax
PEDRO OLIVEIRA drums

All songs by ANDRÉ SIMÃO, GRACIELA COELHO, PAULO ARAÚJO and PEDRO OLIVEIRA except "Close my eyes" by ARTHUR RUSSELL published by Rough Trade 2009
Lyrics by H. GONELIGHTLY

Recorded and mixed by JOSÉ ARANTES at c-house – PT
Produced by DEAR TELEPHONE and JOSÉ ARANTES
Mastered by FREDERICO CRISTIANO at 4º à esquerda – PT

Design by GRACIELA COELHO and DEAR TELEPHONE

---

Released March 21, 2011

1. THE DOOR WAS WHITE
2. A BAKER'S DOZEN
3. PROVIDENCE
4. HARDLY THE KIND OF STUFF TO INSPIRE SOCIAL CHRONICLERS
5. CLOSE MY EYES
6. THE HOUSE WAS DEAD

Store

Cd/vinyl

— Cut, 2017 (vinyl)
— Taxi Ballad, 2013 (cd)
— Birth of a robot, 2011 (cd)

Digital

— Cut, 2017
— Taxi Ballad, 2013
— Birth of a robot, 2011

Stream

Cut

Fur

Outside, It’s dark and warm
From here, nowhere to go
Those bright eyes protect the alley
Gloom

Under charts and tables,
It goes on and on and on,
Between shifts of magic
My expensive coats torn,
Damn those thursdays and the moon,
Oh how I hate mondays

Outside, it’s cold and silent
Dressed up, safe and smiley
Waiting, for the 22
Downtown

Slit

What if I wake with a rumble
Shall I dive in-to my cloak
Just another cold-feet morning

Breeze from the highway
Sliding through
The slit, just above my window

What if I hit, the road
Poetry
Left out, dimming as the sun shines

Automatic

Late-night shelter
Roof-top pool light
Shoe, cross canvas of glass and tenfold

Worn-out rugs
And wooden faces
Blue vest let down among the traces

In this drag, where I roam
New, feels like home

Watch it all from 21 st floor,
As a flash goes cross the sky
And I, walk out the threshold,
Rising through

This white empty ghostly room
It’s just another start

In this trail, where I roam
New, feels like home

Cut

Harry is a killer
Molly is passing by
Higheels over cracking leaves
Close up in her eyes

Rain is pouring, wind is blowing,
Lights are fading one by one, now
Hard smoke on the set

Penny is a kisser
Henry is lonely
Steps drumming the sidewalk
Close up in her lips

Rain is pouring, wind is blowing,
Lights are fading one by one, now
Fake smoke on the set, cut

Nighthawks

Monday night
Swinging on a ledge
She enters, quick on the trigger,
On the edge of the counter,
Her eyes are lost, looking like...

... Those strange man on table seven
Asking for trouble
Seen through this broken mirror

In the sun,
Shadowplays are telling me stories
Anyone, in fake leather
Dyed in true colors

The kids are allright
Dancing on secrets
Been wandering all night
If I should call, to send you best wishes
But it’s to late
And I still have some dishes to do

Turnover

Holding still
Turning around
Waiting, heedful

It’s a rat’s faded track
Could be, just a dancer in the dark

Holding back
Moving around
Cut and run

Just a trouper on the frame
Is it just a glance,
From one of million faces

Oh, this is just my cool
Coming, going, coming, going
Holding down
Turning around
Slowly

Just a trouper on the frame
Is it just a glance,
From one of million faces

From this place
where I am standing

From this place where I am standing
I watch the planes, softly landing
There ain’t much to say about it
All in all it’s just that, well,
Nevermind now

From this place where I am standing
A thousand cars in peerless lining
After all it’s just that it feels quiet

Lying down,
With feet sat on the ground
I can’t see but you

From this place where I am standing
I count the trains, such gentle giants
Oh wait!
Who’s that gorgeous stranger passing?

View

Is this town the place to be
Around your house no thrust you see
The lights are out

Is this town where I should live
Between the murk and certainty
The lights are withering

In this thin windowpane
My eyes reflect the view

The first person ever

The world is all about
Seemingly happy
People like me
I want to hold hands
With the first person ever

Taxi Ballad

O dearest knight
in shining armour

O dearest knight in shining armour
I wish you didn't buy that horse
I’ve booked a flight
to New York City
I’ll be leaving in the morning

I do wish you told me sooner
You were planning on saving me
I’d surely try to change my flight
Make sure I had some extra time
The saving of me can put up
quite a fight
There will be tears I’ll need to cry

And the swearing
and the cursing too
Then the waking up into the light
And thanking you for being there

O knight of mine,
you come too late
I wasn’t counting on being saved
My week is kind of booked ahead
There is a tone of things
that I’ve got to do

Some thousand miles
away from you
I do admit I was impressed
No one ever tried to save me

And the horse you got
is really pretty
But I’ll be flying in the morning
O knight of mine,
try to take this right

I wasn’t counting on your chivalry
At least you have a horse
to keep you company
Let’s try and save me
some other day

That violin lesson sucks

Hey you good looking,
What’s with that book
you’re reading?
I’m all pretty dressed up

Hey you good looking,
That violin lesson sucks
And its 10 in the morning

I know, you won’t bite my hands
It shows, you would not chew
a bubblegum
I know

Hey you good looking,
Your French is just parfait

Hey you good looking,
you just making me blue
like the silk shirt you have on

Gliding through the sidewalk
raindrops won't dare touch you
the ground craves your feet
I know

Hey good looking,
here's bad looking
come on by, some time

Fit and proper

Wake
Walk out the hotel room
Off to paris
To meet my agent
I need a break, Sam.
There's a life out there
Luxurious gardens
For curious cats

Gaza strip,
With a finger gun in my pocket
Double dip, at the Royal wedding
Road trip, across Africa

Having a beer with same old Tom
Here comes Johnny, his jokes are the best around

Hey Sam here
Just got a call from Berlin

Everything must be ready by Sunday
I bought your pills, a decent hat
Your beard will most certainly be a mess
But I allways carry a razor

Sunset print on postcard

Corny sunset print on postcard
I won’t cry no river
Poetry can only hold me back
I’m up to something bigger
than ourselves

Be my
Guitar
Plugged in
Played hard
Twisted
Broken
Screaming
Bended
Smiling
Asking
For trouble
Be my
Guitar
Sunburst
(fire)

Everything we know

There’s a crowd at the door
But as soon as they
see you we’re in
Music’s playing, we know that song
And walk along the dance floor
Across the room and to the bar
I need a drink,
don’t need to tell you
You always know exactly
what I want
When I want it
Everyone we know is here

Can’t really hear
what you’re talking about
The light’s too dim,
music’s too loud
I can think of a million
different places
We could’ve gone tonight
But this is you and we’re together
It makes me strangely proud
To be the one walking you home
When all the lights are out

Let me rest
on your couch

Suddenly the wall
that I’ve been climbing
Seems to end at the top
of your house
I must have made a wrong turn

To walk away and end up right where I started
Tomorrow, I’ll go
Yes tomorrow I can go

I’ll knock on someone else’s door
But for the night, for just a while
Let me rest on your couch

When morning comes
you know I’ll realize
There’s really nowhere else to go
But still I’ll walk,
like I said I would

I’ll knock on someone else’s door
But for the night, for just a while
Let me rest on your couch
I promise I’ll be quiet
I won’t make a sound

Hardly the kind of stuff
to inspire social chroniclers

I left my trench coat
on the closet in the hallway
Please find a way to return it to me
You don’t have to call me up
or anything
You know I’m careless
and I never hide my keys anyway

I seem to remember leaving
a polka dot dress
On the floor by the window
in the room we used to dine in
Under the sofa,
behind the curtains,
I can’t really tell
We always had issues
on your house being a mess

And look for me on all
your bookshelves
I’m pretty sure
I’ll be lying all around
Hiding in a paperback edition
of The Waves
Or maybe on the cover
of one of your Hemingway’s

Like I said,
we don’t even have to meet
Just pack whatever’s left of me
and leave it by the door
Or help yourself in,
one can never tell
You may have left some of you
on my house as well

A toothbrush or a shirt
or some self respect and love
Hidden in a Tupperware
your mother bought us both
A comb or a shoe
or some vows we swore were true
Forgotten in a drawer
of what used to be our room

Passengers

Door Bells
Broken bikes
Fences
And rain

Building after midnight
Rates and drivers
Lost your lighter
Rush

Square shadows
And taxi ballad
A river running nowhere

8 million swimming
The traffic rolling like waves
Watch for undertow

Building after midnight
River after rain after river
They say they've “got some questions to ask of you
In your blue room”

Birth of a robot

The door was white

The door was white, I saw
a four hanging above it
The windows were big,
Big enough to look inside

You said "it has no fence"
But I was already halfway
into the entrance
There were empty pots
all over the stairs
Reminding us not long ago
Someone actually lived there

Hanging from the door
was a set of keys
And I had always been curious
About these huge white mansions
Coming right off the fifties

This could be our house
This could really be our house
I figured if souls ever live on,
This is where they’d be

I found a bedroom Invited you in
cause I foolishly assumed
You and I were on the same plan
But I guess I got you all wrong
(Well, I’m only a girl,
you’re only a man)

Cause i turned around
and you were gone
This could be our house
The door was dreamy
and big and white
The four hanging above it
was such a sight
I kind of hoped you'd say it back
But you were gone
and the house was dead.

A baker's dozen

This could be where the world ends
Hands nearly not enough
Intentions are overrated
As are your eyes.

We fall and dance
But morning always comes
It’s not my fault but
We are see-through.

I’ve got none, nor do you
And that’s how words fade
They don’t mean much
Most days.

And this could be
Where the world would end
We’d hold hands and hearts
But we are see-through.

Providence

Let’s go out swimming tonight
It’s perfect now to run away
Let’s jump in your car
and not look back
I’ll come over and help you pack
Let’s just drive and make no plans
Get to the ocean and hold hands
Bury our feet deep in the sand
Lay back and wake up together
Let’s chose the cheesiest
motel room
With pink wallpaper
and red velvet chairs
We’ll drop our bags
and jump in the bathtub
You’ll lean against me
and I’ll wash your hair
Let’s get the floor wet
and not even care
Let’s walk till we find
a roadside cafe
Eat breakfast with our legs intertwined
Laugh so hard everyone will stare
Walk along unknown streets
Singing loud and drinking wine
Let’s go out swimming tonight
Then kiss our way back to bed
Oh lover, let’s have our own room
Let’s dance and howl at the moon
Let’s pretend there’s nothing else
But you and me and me and you.

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Contacts

Dear Telephone

— deartelephone@gmail.com

Booking

— booking@pad-online.com

Label

— info@pad-online.com