Erik Dionne has been making music under the name Dog Army, for 18 years. He defines his music as spanning many genres, but generally, occupying a range from minimalist acoustic folk to garage rock, all with a kind of southern gothic appeal when it comes to mood, storytelling, and aesthetic. “My music is often cinematic in nature, and I look to make sounds in as much of a physical or analog way possible. I like to capture air and iron as best I can,” says Dionne.
To commemorate the release of his second album, Woodwose: Exigence & Exodus, Dog Army will play an album-release at St. Inie’s Coffee Shop in Lexington Park, Md., October 22, 2026.
“With technology what it is today, we have instant access to nearly all recorded music. It’s an amazing time to be a listener as well as an artist. That said, it’s still on the listener to dig and find the treasure. Flip over the rocks on your local scene. Look all over. Incredible music is being made every day. Keep digging, and don’t take art for granted. Don’t listen out of pity, but cherish and celebrate what’s good. Tell the artist. Tell your friends. It can be a lonely place, but remember this stuff was always made to connect us,” Erik Dionne.
What inspired you to become a musician and when did that happen?
I started playing guitar when I was 13. That changed my life. But even before then, I like to think I always had a sensitivity to music, or “good taste.” I knew what I liked. I knew what I did not like. Getting a guitar, though, unlocked a way for me to perceive what I had been hearing since I was a toddler–gave me a context to better listen to the music I knew and loved. And once I got my bearings a bit on the instrument (thanks largely to another local artist, Gost of The Pink Dream–he showed me what basic techniques were and how to read tabs), I could not put it down. I practiced for at least two hours every day for years. Now, I play several instruments, but I probably perceive most of what I do as a guitarist first. So, to answer the question directly, 24 years now.
Was there a particular moment you can think back on where you knew you wanted to pursue music?
I remember seeing my parents watching a live performance of Eric Clapton on TV. This was within a few months before I got my hands on a guitar, but at the point when I knew I was going to get one. My parents jokingly said, “that will be you!” commenting on Clapton playing. I scoffed, thinking of the impossibility of being able to play something like lead guitar. But fast forward about a year, and I had gotten pretty decent at playing (not to the degree of Clapton, of course, but I could play leads and such much sooner than I anticipated I would be able to). At a friend’s birthday party, we all happened to bring some instruments–Gost was there with his guitar as well. Gost laid down a riff, and in what I remember as being a very brief amount of time, we had a full song (at least, what we perceived as a full song at the time) complete with bass, drums, rhythm and lead guitars. We figured, “well, I guess we’re a band now!” I think that was probably when there was no turning back. I was going to always have music from then on.
What were some of your musical inspirations?
My musical inspirations early on are probably quite different from what gets me inspired these days, but foundationally? I have to give credit to The Smashing Pumpkins. Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness was the first album I picked out for myself at six years old, and I still claim it as one of my top 3 favorites of all time. I grew up with a lot of 90’s rock/alt/grunge in the house, but also tons of 70’s and 80’s music of various genres. I remember the radio or stereo was always on. When I started playing guitar at 13, Toni Iommi and Black Sabbath taught me really how to play. Then Pink Floyd. Not long after though, I delved into the blues from the 20’s through to the 60’s. The first time hearing Blind Willie Johnson, in particular, singing “Soul of a Man” was one of those awe-striking moments. I then got my hands on whatever older blues I could: Son House, Robert Johnson, Leadbelly, J.B. Lenoir; later, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Rev. Gary Davis, to name a few. Then at 16, I found Rain Dogs by Tom Waits, and again, my idea of what music could be was forever changed.
Locally, I must give credit, however, to DJ and Dan of Rich Uncle Skeleton. When I was 14, they were playing a nighttime set at the county fair (my first band–as mentioned above with Gost–had played there earlier that day, if I recall). At this point, I didn’t really know any of them, but when they took the stage, my world was altered. They were raw, cacophonous, piercing, and monstrous–scraping at the margins of what I previously thought listenable. Yet, articulate, poetic, measured, and vicious. I could not turn away, I was truly awestruck. Some kind of base element in me was unlocked then. Years later, I would later speak with DJ (who is now one of my closest friends) about this experience, and agree that it was one of those experiences that shows what music is allowed to be. Animal and painful. Beautiful and gnarled. There was a shift in me then.
What inspires you to write, compose the music that you do?
I think I’m often writing to answer a question. My first album, Questionable Motives, was directed by (though almost no one would probably pick up on this) exploring the question of “do we have free will?” The title’s ambiguous, and that’s one of its meanings. My second album, Woodwose: Exigence & Exodus is exploring a question I asked myself pretty early in my teens: “during the bubonic plague, why didn’t everyone just go live in the woods to escape it?” Fast-forward to 2020, and I get my answer, realizing it’s complicated. The album explores that question of “why not escape society to escape its problems?” along with so many others that reveal themselves through the exploration of that initial thought. With both albums, I ruminated on the questions for weeks or even months for some elements, doing a lot of literary research at times. Within this though, I will often create characters in the songs who become vehicles for exploring the questions, which I believe often grounds the questions and the songs in something worth listening to (I could be wrong there, though). Without those characters though, it might be empty postulating, devoid of humanity, and that’s the opposite of what I’m hoping people will see. But that’s where the violence and the maleficence often comes from in my songs. I like to explore the challenging aspects of society, shine a light on the monster’s face for too long and understand its ugliness, so to speak.
Tell me something that you feel Southern Maryland contributes to your art form?
I’ve grown up in St. Mary’s County and lived here pretty much my entire life (barring the five years I lived in College Park when I attended UMD). I’ve traveled across the country a few times, and across much of Europe, both solo and with company. Leaving is a good thing because it shows you what the world has to offer. St. Mary’s County is a large county. It takes over an hour to drive from the north tip to its southernmost point of the peninsula. Within is such an array of history and suburban modernity that it’s actually difficult to capture its identity succinctly. And I think that goes for many of its people, too. On one extreme are families and traditions that have been here for literally hundreds of years. On the other are newcomers bringing their own traditions and customs from thousands of miles away. In some places, our county contains some of the most progressive ideas you’ll find in the country. In others, terribly antiquated ones. Perhaps this strange amalgam contributes to the slurried coloration of my music. One song might sound like it’s straight out of a Nashville honkytonk. Another might sound like it was churned out of a New York refinery. The soup kitchen or the saloon. Am I driving down 5 or 235? Running between the dichotomy is always nature, and I will forever be grateful for that, and hope it lasts for this county. As a kid, I learned to swim in the river, played and hunted in the woods. Yet as an adult, I teach in our most populated and diverse area, and love its people the most. In many ways, our county includes snapshots of the best elements of the country, as well as some of its most difficult struggles. That, and we have all four seasons. So maybe that’s why I’m an artist that has a style yet no set genre, but who can say?
Where can people find your albums? And what is in store for you as an artist in the future?
My albums, Questionable Motives and Woodwose: Exigence & Exodus, can be found on all streaming services, including Bandcamp. I don’t think a great deal of people outside of musicians know about Bandcamp, but it’s one of the best places to support artists, so I encourage people to check me (and everyone else!) out there. I am looking to make some physical copies as well that I can have for shows or those who visit my Bandcamp page, if people are loud enough about it.
