Do I ever feel the way I should?
Some words on my friend Christian Dorey (1975-2025)
At Christian’s funeral in Bromont, Quebec, I stood on the small stage with my acoustic guitar, a music stand, and three songs. Every time I tried to say something about him or to offer some kind of tribute, I’d get choked up. So I just sang.
The first song was “Between The Lines.” It was Christian’s favorite of ours. He’d ask us to play it at shows, and somehowe we never did… I still don’t know why. But on one of his birthdays, when my family and I spent the weekend at his and Geneviève’s place in Bromont, I gave him what I could: an acoustic performance around the campire that evening. He was giddy like a little kid. It was sweet. There was a lot of love there.
The second was a new song “Parallel and Contrary Motion” I hadn’t planned to perfom. I mentioned it to Geneviève while we were discussing the set; I told her Christian had been on my mind the whole time I was writing it. She asked me to play it. So I did. Sometimes you work on a song thinking it means one thing, and only once it’s finished do you realize what you were actually writing about.
The third was Julee Cruise’s “Falling.” Christian and I shared a deep love for Twin Peaks and David Lynch (his bordered on obsessive). When I started singing, I could feel the room; everyone knew the song. We were all there for him. We all knew what he loved. It hit hard and still does.
What follows is a tribute I wrote shortly after learning of his passing.
Do I ever feel the way I should?
Content to be loved/misunderstood
This is the opening line from “Between The Lines,” which, coincidentally or not, was Christian’s (or Xian, as he was known online) favorite song of ours. I never knew if it was the lyrics or the fact that I wrote it while listening to Spacemen 3’s 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 (one of his favorite albums; how could he have known?). But I always had the sense that this line spoke to him.
We met ten years ago, around the time we were releasing Three Poisons. He came down to our show at Quai des Brumes with a bunch of friends, full of excitement. A huge BJM fan (he had discovered them when they opened for Sonic Boom at the Troubadour in L.A. back in ‘96) he was thrilled to find a Montreal band carrying the torch. We became fast friends, bonded by music, Star Wars, and Twin Peaks (he quite literally wore all of this on his sleeve).
Xian was an amazing artist, deeply immersed in the pop-art world. He generously donated one of his paintings for our 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴 release (originally titled 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘺). His talent was matched only by his kindness.
He and his life-partner Geneviève had a house by a creek in Bromont, and my family and I spent a few weekends there. We’d sit around the campfire, drinks in hand, while the kids ran wild. My kids adored him; probably because he was a bit like a kid himself. There was a wide-eyed wonder about him, an unshakable excitement for the things he loved.
And he 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 music. I remember how overjoyed he was when Rachel from Slowdive—his lifelong crush—received one of his pieces. And the time Brian Jonestown Massacre played Montreal in 2016… The whole band (minus Anton) came by for dinner post-soundcheck. I made sure Xian was there. He showed up with bottles of wine and a huge grin—pure happiness. Later that night, I got him backstage to meet Anton. He ended up talking to Anton’s partner, Katy, and, in typical Xian fashion, was a bit overenthusiastic. Anton, never one to mince words, said something like, “I don’t know who you are, so why should I care!” Xian loved it. He worshipped Anton, and to be told off by him was, in his mind, a badge of honor. He recounted that night for years, grinning ear to ear every time.
There are so many memories—so many happy ones, and some sad ones, too. I wish I had been there more in the hard times. I tried, but he didn’t want me to see him like that. Maybe I should have tried harder. He never wanted to be an inconvenience.
But no one is an inconvenience.
Life is a gift. And knowing Xian was a gift.
It’s hard to imagine a world where he won’t be messaging me after a new song or tour is announced. But I know he’s always with me. He always will be. My deepest condolences to Genevieve and his family.
I take some comfort in these words from his guru, David Lynch:
𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.
om shanti om. rishi.