Mess+Noise live review: Splendour In The Grass, August 2011
A three-part live review of the music festival Splendour In The Grass 2011 for Mess+Noise. Excerpts from each day are included below. The photos used in this blog post were taken by Justin Edwards, who shot the event on behalf of M+N. His photo galleries are linked from my reviews.
Report: Splendour 2011 Day 1
Woodfordia is a really good venue, Gotye will top the Hottest 100, showers are best taken in the day and Kanye West apparently likes fish sticks – things learned on day one of Splendour In The Grass 2011 by ANDREW MCMILLEN.
In the lead-up to Splendour In The Grass 2011, it felt like the first year where the honeymoon could be over for Australia’s largest music festival. Most notably, this is the first Splendour in recent memory that failed to sell out. Days away from gates opening, promoters even decided to offer tickets to each of the three days at a heavily discounted price. Compare this to last year’s event – the first time the festival had been staged at Woodford in Queensland, and also the first time it stretched across three days – which sold out in around five hours. Evidently, an $80 price hike while offering what’s arguably an inferior line-up appeared like a mistake, but once on site, all the bad press in the lead-up to the festival all but slips away.
Organisers even seem to have sorted out a better entrance process this year. Rather than hours spent sitting in slow-moving traffic kilometres away from the gates, those who arrive after midday on Thursday are impressed by how smoothly it all runs. Perhaps the speedy entrance can be attributed to the lax security when it comes to searching vehicles for alcohol. The tray of the M+N ute could’ve been filled with bottles of spirits – and we’d have gotten away with it. Maybe they were relying on last year’s scare tactics to discourage BYO booze? It didn’t seem to work. On a cold Thursday night, a man next to me at the urinal exclaims, “There’s fucking steam coming off my fucking piss!”
Day One: July 29
We learned last year that Woodfordia is a very good venue for accommodating 30,000 music fans for a weekend. This rings true today. Very little has been changed as far as the layout is concerned. The majority of the musical action occurs at three stages. Mix Up and the G.W. McLennan are housed under tents in the centre of the festival grounds, while the Amphitheatre – the main stage – is located at the far end. It’s a huge bowl that’s entered by taking either the high road – which is quite a steep climb – or the lower path, which funnels into the “D” section in front of stage. The first Amphitheatre performance of the festival is scheduled to start at 11am, yet the gates remain closed until 11.10am for no apparent reason.
Once inside, Brisbane act Millions are playing to a crowd that seems to consist largely of triple j staff, including music director Richard Kingsmill. The quartet won an Unearthed competition to play today. They play catchy indie pop built around confident songwriting and a laidback delivery. This slot may well give their profile a nice boost. The band who played at this time last year, Jinja Safari, take the same stage at 1pm today to what I assume is a far bigger crowd than their first time around.
For the full report on day one, visit Mess+Noise.
Report: Splendour 2011 Day 2
Perfect 10 performances from Gareth Liddiard and The Grates, strange timetabling decisions and disappointing sets from Mona and The Mars Volta – ANDREW MCMILLEN reports on a musically inconsistent day two of Splendour In The Grass in Woodfordia, Queensland. But, hey, at least the weather was good.
All weekend, the weather is a dream. It couldn’t be better. It’s so good that you tend not to notice the clear skies, and instead take it for granted. There isn’t a moment of rain, which makes for happy camping.
First on the Mix Up stage are Ghoul, who admit to not having played a show in six months but prove to be captivating. Evidently I’m not the only one who’s fond of Ivan Vizintin’s distinctive voice. By the end of their 45 minutes there’s a few hundred heads facing the stage. At the Amphitheatre, it’s a tough day to be a Cut Off Your Hands fan. Their set is bland and uninspiring, but this could well be the Kiwi quartet playing at their best. It’s indie pop that you can dance to, but the absence of hooks leaves the crowd cold. They lean heavily on material from new release Hollow. Fifty minutes of Nick Johnston’s voice becomes grating. They save their best for last, when Johnston ditches his guitar and wails along to early singles ‘Still Fond’ and ‘Expectations’.
“If I was booking a festival, the first thing I’d do is not book me,” says a typically self-deprecating Gareth Liddiard. He attracts a few hundred punters to the McLennan tent at 1.30pm just to hear his voice, acoustic guitar and between-song gags. He tells us about the inspiration for writing ‘Highplains Mailman’ and ‘Strange Tourist’. He refuses ‘Khe Sahn’ requests as he says he’s got his own; in ‘Shark Fin Blues’, presumably, which he plays without fuss. He mocks the techno bumping from Mix Up, and reflects on how people tend to romanticise the decade in which they were raised. He bemoans the current fascination with the ’80s. “Joy Division and The Birthday Party aside – what the fuck?” A stagehand gestures at him. He replies, “Is that 10 minutes left? Or 10 out of 10, Gareth?”, before finishing with ‘Jezebel’. The latter, Gareth.
Looking down on the Amphitheatre at 2.20pm from the top of the hill is hilarious. “We’re Mona from Nashville, Tennessee,” one of the tiny figures on stage says into a microphone. “Let’s bump up the party!” There are perhaps three dozen people in the D-section at this point. The entire crowd here wouldn’t fill The Tote. It’s mind-boggling to look down at the mostly empty hill and recall that last night, every square inch was packed during Kanye West. “Never trust anything that blows up,” the figure says after a few songs. “All great things start small.” Right. Their music is embarrassing. It sounds like a cross between Jet and modern Kings Of Leon.
For the full report on day two, visit Mess+Noise.
Report: Splendour 2011 Day 3
A fatigued ANDREW MCMILLEN powers through the final day of Splendour In The Grass 2011, taking in performances by Pulp, The Panics, Coldplay, The Vines and the last ever show by Townsville’s The Middle East.
By now, fatigue has set in. I’ve spent Splendour sober – I’m in the midst of a three-month break from drinking – and I’m still ruined from the walking, the dust, and the volume of food and soft drink consumed thus far. Time for one last push. At the Amphitheatre, Melbourne’s Alpine are winning fans under a cloudy 11am sky that threatens to break. They tell us that it’s their first festival, yet the six-piece handle their set like true pros. “I can’t stop smiling, even though some of the songs are sad!” one of the singers enthuses between tracks. They end on ‘Villages’, a fantastic indie pop song that hints at their potential for greatness. The prospect of relocating to another stage is too much to handle, so I sit in the shade and wait for Grouplove, a band about whom I’m blissfully ignorant.
As it turns out, they play a set consisting entirely of Arcade Fire covers. I kid. these guys are from Los Angeles, not Quebec, so there’s at least one point of difference. Their showing at midday is powerful and evocative. It’s all blustery, feel-good indie rock, which fits the zeitgeist like a glove. They pull a big crowd. It feels as though a lot of those here are discovering a new favourite band. They thank Splendour co-founder Paul Piticco for inviting them here, and dedicate ‘Naked Kids’ to him. They’re a very easy band to like.
On the same stage at 1.10pm – like I said, fatigue has set in – Hungry Kids Of Hungary prove their sound works well in an arena context. With no one else really playing at the time, they’re handed the perfect opportunity to impress a good chunk of Splendour-goers. They don’t miss the mark. They play most of debut album Escapades and kick beachballs into the crowd (as you do). With a new record reportedly underway, they’re well on track to continue ascending the Australian pop ladder.
Under the McLennan tent, Leader Cheetah sound great but are otherwise dull. They show strong songwriting, but give us nothing else to latch onto. We might as well be listening to the album. I arrive in time for ‘Bloodlines’ and a wave of material from the newly-released Lotus Skies. I stand at the back of the tent and look out across the pond of filthy water upon which the nearby “pontoon bar” is housed. There’s a momentary break in the timetable, so I scamper for an early afternoon shower and return to catch the final 30 seconds of Liam Finn’s set – which is a shame, as it looked like a good time. A decade into their career, The Herd are a classic festival draw by now. They play a set of crowd-pleasers intermixed with material from forthcoming fifth album Future Shade, which are well received. I prefer them over most Australian hip-hop acts because they treat melody with as much respect as their rhymes. Watching thousands of people sing along to their hooks, it’s easy to see why they’ve established themselves near the peak of the genre. While they mightn’t have the hardcore fanbase of acts like Hilltop Hoods or Bliss N Eso, they’ve certainly carved out their own niche.
For the full report on day three, visit Mess+Noise.
Mess+Noise album review: ‘Lostworks’ by Faux Pas, 2011
An album review for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
Faux Pas – Lostworks
Less cohesive than last year’s Noiseworks, but no less compelling, Lostworks is a collection of “lost songs” and b-sides created by Melbourne musician Tim Shiel between 2008 and 2010. Crucially, these aren’t half-formed ideas mashed together just for the sake of pumping out a follow-up; after all, he’s charging zero dollars for it, so it’s hardly an attempt to cash in on the success of Noiseworks, his second full-length release. Instead, Shiel appears to have invested a similar amount of time and effort into polishing these tracks for public consumption: he calls this release a “companion piece to Noiseworks” on his website.
Lostworks’ production isn’t as immediately attention-grabbing as what we heard on his 2010 effort – to my ears, there’s a little less depth in the bass, and fewer gaudy synth sounds filling out the high-end – but the result is still more than serviceable, considering it was assembled, produced and probably mastered by Shiel himself.
As ever, it’s difficult to judge just how much of Faux Pas’ output is sampled and how much is original, as these songs betray very little about their origins. Even when Shiel teases listeners with familiar musical phrases, they’re skewed almost beyond recognition. He re-appropriates Carole King’s vocals from ‘Where You Lead’ – a song made famous by Barbra Streisand – throughout ‘I Will Follow’. In album closer ‘Don’t Go’, he hints at ‘Waterfalls’ by TLC. (The latter inclusion is a titular nod to Noiseworks’lead single ‘Chasing Waterfalls’.)
For the full review, visit Mess+Noise. For more Faux Pas, visit his website (where you can – and should – download the album for free). An audio sample of Lostworks is embedded below.
Lostworks (free album download) by Faux Pas
Mess+Noise ‘Storytellers’ article: Ed Kuepper – ‘Eternally Yours’, 2011
A ‘Storytellers’ article for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
ANDREW MCMILLEN revisits the “Storytellers” series, whose premise is simple: one song by one artist, discussed at length. This week it’s Ed Kuepper on Laughing Clowns’ 1983 classic ‘Eternally Yours’. The song will be reprised acoustically with backing from drummer Mark Dawson at a trio of shows in NSW this week. Dates below.
If you were forced to summarise Laughing Clowns in a single song, it’d be hard to pass up ‘Eternally Yours’. The Sydney-based band – formed in the wake of guitarist Ed Kuepper’s departure from The Saints in 1979 – played a distinctive style of jazz-influenced post-punk that remains peerless to this day.
‘Eternally Yours’ was recorded in late 1983, released as a single in March 1984, and appeared on the Clowns’ second LP, Law Of Nature. The band recorded a promotional video for the song, too; a rarity among their short-lived career, which came to a halt by the end of the year. (The band reformed in 2009 for the All Tomorrow’s Parties festivals, and earlier in 2010, they supported Dirty Three’s Ocean Songs tour by performing the compilation album History Of Rock ‘n’ Roll Volume One.)
Characterised by Kuepper’s waves of open chords and Jeffrey Wegener’s proud drumbeat, the focal point of ‘Eternally Yours’ is a towering, timeless saxophone melody performed by Louise Elliott. The song remains a staple of Kuepper’s live set: during last year’s spate of reformed Clowns shows, it frequently appeared as the set closer.
Late last year, I visited Kuepper’s southwest Brisbane home to discuss the song. We drank tap water and sat in the shade underneath his house, while his dog Oscar noisily dug at the rocks underfoot in an effort to reach the cool dirt underneath (“I’m finding this very distracting,” he admitted halfway through our conversation). Kuepper smoked three cigarettes over the course of our 33-minute conversation, speaking haltingly at times; long pauses, and many knowing, ironic glances. Ultimately, though, he spoke freely about a song of which he’s clearly proud.
Were you surprised when I asked to talk about this song?
No. It’s kind of a standard song for me. It’s survived in a lot of different versions over the years … It’s more interesting than talking about ‘(I’m) Stranded’. Which I’m not knocking, but that has been … covered.Extensively.
To say the least.I’ve seen you play several times in the last few years, and ‘Eternally Yours’ still crops up in the set quite frequently. I could be wrong, but you seem to get some kind of pleasure out of it. You seem to go somewhere else when you play that song.
Most of the time, yeah. When it works, it still has the capacity to [become] something new, which is more than I can say for some songs that I do. Not that I expected that at the time. For a long time I didn’t play it at all. I think when the Clowns split, I didn’t touch it again for about five years or so. It made its first reappearance in a radically different way on Today Wonder, where it was just acoustic. I think because of doing that record – going off ‘Eternally Yours’ specifically here, a little bit – doing that record basically made me reappraise a whole lot of things, and luckily, that [song] was one of them.It says a lot about the strength of the song if it can withstand an acoustic version, as well as the full-blown band treatment.
And also, really different full-blown band treatments. I haven’t really played the Clowns version live; maybe once, on one of the Clowns tours that we did recently. Generally each version has developed. Where it goes from here, I have no idea.
For the full interview, visit Mess+Noise. The video for ‘Eternally Yours‘ is embedded below. This article was a true pleasure to pitch, interview and write up. Probably because it’s my favourite song ever.
Mess+Noise interview: George Nicholas of Seekae, 2011
An interview for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
Seekae: ‘We’re Too Busy Forging Battle Plans’
While other bands are out partying, Sydney’s Seekae are too busy playing LAN games backstage. Ahead of the release of second album ‘+DOME‘, they talk to ANDREW MCMILLEN about poverty, illegal downloading and how they recently “annihilated” Cloud Control on ‘Starcraft’.
Since releasing their debut album The Sound Of Trees Falling On People in December 2008, Sydney trio Seekae have become one of the most interesting independent acts in the country. Both in the studio and on stage, their set-up consists of laptops, MPCs, live drums, keyboards and melodica; their sound, a distinctive and complex brew of electronica. Rarely do vocals work their way into the mix, yet the band have a reputation for delivering: they won a Sydney Music, Art and Culture (SMAC) award in 2009 for ‘Best Live Act’, and re-released Trees with a bonus disc of remixes (and a PVT cover) upon signing with indie label Rice Is Nice.
So how have the trio – John Hassell on synth/guitar, Alex Cameron on synth/drums and George Nicholas on synth/melodica – spent the couple of years between their debut album and its forthcoming follow-up, +DOME? Playing too much Starcraft, according to Nicholas, though he confirms they still attempt to record new ideas each day, even if most of it is “absolute garbage”. It’s fitting that a video game would distract these three from their artistic calling; they were originally named after the DOS game Commander Keen, before shortening to a stylised version of its initials after discovering that the name had already been taken.
Though Cameron was initially scheduled to do this interview, some unexpected laptop problems ahead of a show supporting Mount Kimbie in Perth on the next night – simply, a computer wouldn’t turn on – caused him to flee to the nearest repairs store, leaving Nicholas to fill his shoes.
There was an article published in triple j mag in March last year, where you wrote: “Musicians don’t have any money. They spend all the money they earned on new instruments and laptops.” Is this still the case?
George: Yeah. I think I’m the poorest I’ve ever been, actually. I don’t think we’re going to hit the jackpot for a while. I hope we do, but we’ve still been eating spaghetti for a couple of weeks now, waiting for our cheque to come in.You’re the poorest now that you’ve ever been?
Yeah. I mean, we put some money into recording the album, and stuff like that. What people don’t understand is that, in order to write an album, you have to take a lot of time off work. You have to dedicate a lot of your time to doing it. I think that’s the main reason why we’re so poor, I guess. But it’s not that bad. We’re not entirely starving. [Laughs]Does the lack of money bother you?
No, it’s alright. I mean, it does bother me, because it’s always hard juggling a shitty day job and a band. A lot of my friends are going and getting real jobs and careers, but I look at this and just see – although I’m not being paid that much for it – it’s good to be able to do this stuff, and have people listen to it. It’s all fine. It’s all gravy! [Laughs]You also wrote that you have to “try and convince security that an MPC drum machine is pretty much the same thing as a laptop, and that it was designed to destroy dancefloors, not jets”. I take it this conversation happens every time you’re in an airport.
[Laughs] Yeah. We always get a few snickers and laughs every time we go through the x-ray machine. I carry all my stuff in my backpack. I carry my laptop, my soundcard, my hard drive, my MPC, my Kaos pad, all in one bag. There’s like 10 different things. It’s really absurd when you see someone taking out all these suspicious-looking things out of their bag. We get a lot of strange looks. But we always make it through, although every single we time go through, we get the explosives check.
For the full interview, visit Mess+Noise. For more Seekae, visit their Myspace. The audio for their track ‘Blood Bank‘ is embedded below.
Collapse Board story: ‘An Open Letter To Stonefield’
A story for Collapse Board. Excerpt below.
Dear Stonefield,
I recently interviewed you for the Australian music website Mess+Noise. I prepared for the interview just as I’ve done for many others: by listening to your music, by studying your past published interviews, and by dipping into online comments made about you. Having seen you play live, at the One Movement For Music festival in Perth last October, I had an inkling of how people would respond to the published interview. As a band of young girls, your image is naïve and innocent. I don’t believe that this is an act, Stonefield: I think this is just who you are.
In Perth, you got up on stage before a crowd of hundreds, under a tent in the middle of the day, and performed well. You stayed strong throughout your allotted half-hour. There was a fair amount of shoe-gazing going on among your younger members, but I chalked that up to nerves more than anything else. In that moment, you were an ambitious group of young women playing a game controlled by men. The vast majority of guest speakers at the music industry conference that had taken place in nearby hotels were male. The festival line-up was stacked in favour of men, too. In that environment, you were outsiders, in every sense of the word. Yet you played as if you belonged. That sense of self-confidence won you a spot on the line-up of this year’s Glastonbury Festival, in the UK, as a direct result of your strong performance at One Movement.
As I watched you play, Stonefield, I took in the crowd around me. Toward the front – up against the barrier – were groups of males in their 20s and 30s, beers in hand, cheering and leering at you. You probably noticed them. The men in attendance outnumbered females by a considerable margin. You probably noticed this, too. This was disconcerting, Stonefield. Over those five days in Perth, I saw dozens of male bands play, and few of them provoked more than appreciative applause between songs. But when you played, the crowd reception went far beyond respect for your musical talent. All around me, men were undressing you with their eyes.
Herein lies the rub of your band and bands like you, Stonefield. No amount of musical talent, studious networking and careerist determination can compare to the sudden rush of blood that occurs when humans are placed in the presence of attractive members of the opposite sex (or the same sex, if you’re that way inclined). So while we can pretend until the cows come home that you are hot property among the Australian music industry in 2011 purely because you’re talented, we’re fooling ourselves if we don’t admit that your gender and your looks weigh heavily on the minds of the people who make these decisions. Festival bookers, publicists, A&R reps; they each have one thing on their mind, and it’s not your musical chops. You have those, of course, but you’re also blessed with rarer, more distinctive traits: sisterhood, and beauty. With a story like yours, Stonefield, the press releases practically write themselves.
For the full article, visit Collapse Board. For more Stonefield, visit their Myspace. The music video for their song ‘Through The Clover‘ is embedded below.
Mess+Noise interview: Chris Bailey of The Saints, 2011
An interview with Chris Bailey for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
Interview – Chris Bailey: ‘I Really Enjoy Being An Old Slut’
Ahead of a one-off performance in Sydney tonight, ANDREW MCMILLEN speaks to Chris Bailey about his multiple plans for 2011; his on-again, off-again relationship with Ed Kuepper; and what he learned from American singer Judy Collins.
When it comes to Chris Bailey, you’ve probably already heard it all before. If not, a potted history: Bailey is co-founder and vocalist of Brisbane-born punk rock act The Saints, who formed in 1974 and relocated to England in 1977 after signing a three-album contract with EMI and thumbing their noses at the limited opportunities for their music to be heard and supported here in Australia. They burned bright enough to release all three records within 18 months, before being dropped by their label after the jazz-influenced Prehistoric Sounds (1978) was a commercial flop. Despite three-quarters of the band departing soon after – including co-founders Ed Kuepper (guitar) and Ivor Hay (drums) – Bailey soldiered on with The Saints moniker, releasing an additional 10 albums, up to and including 2006’sImperious Delirium. (Kuepper, annoyed by Bailey’s ongoing usage of the name, formed The Aints and performed reworked versions of vintage Saints material.)
An accomplished solo singer-songwriter with seven full-length releases to his name, Bailey’s only ever really done music. Born in 1959 to Irish parents in Kenya, he was 17 when The Saints took off, and he’s yet to let age slow his artistic progress. If anything, he seems to grow hungrier with each passing year: as he reveals in our 20-minute phone conversation, he’s got three albums due for release within the next six months; each separate projects, with different musicians.
Though we’re speaking ostensibly because of a planned show tonight (February 11) at Trackdown Studios in Sydney, it seems foolish to overlook the series of residencies that Bailey undertook with his right-hand axeman, Kuepper, throughout May last year – during which much was made of the tension, both real and perceived, between the two feted musicians – as well as the last occasion that The Saints (proper) played in their hometown of Brisbane, as part of the 2009 All Tomorrow’s Parties festival. Bailey – now based overseas – is a lively conversationalist. During our interview, I get the impression that there’s little difference between his playfully pompous stage manner, and the man himself.
To begin, let’s talk about the upcoming show. How did you come up with the idea to re-imagine some of your well-known songs?
In January, I actually came out [to Australia] to do some dates with [American singer] Judy Collins, and while a lot of people thought that was very odd, I really like Judy. I think she is in fact what the Americans call the “real deal”, and the opportunity to spend a couple of weeks in very close company, I just couldn’t resist because I have bucketloads of respect for the woman. I’ve got to tell you; it was the best couple of weeks of my recent life. It was really quite stunning. We were doing club shows and the occasional theatre, and in either environment, in a club show she was a 17-year old girl in New York in 1964. And then when we were doing theatres, she was this incredible show diva. When a performer knows how to take control of a room, it’s actually stunning. It was the best couple of weeks.So ostensibly, that’s the thing that got me out there. The gig that’s coming up on Friday week is, for many years, I’ve been part of what we call the “Trackdown family”. We started off in very humble origins, and they’ve gone off to become a pretty major player in lots of areas. For the past couple of years [managing director] Geoff and I have been talking about going back and doing something rootsy. Even though I’ve just finished an album in France, and I’m not planning another Saints album until later in the year, I thought it would be just a really good opportunity to come back to this particular studio, which I love. I’m actually in here with an engineer at the moment, and we’re building up an album. That’s then linked to the fact that Geoff was going to do a little showcase for his new label, the Highway 125, which of course I shall play a part of, and he thought that it would be good if I put together a combo and re-imagined a couple from my catalogue. In fact, I’m just going to put together an eclectic little bunch of musos, all acoustic, and we’re just going to bang out some songs.
The press release says you’re planning a “surprise line-up”. What can you reveal about who’s playing?
[Puts on German accent] “It will be people. People, not machine. Man defeats machine.” Okay, I don’t usually write press releases, obviously. I mean, it’s not a rock band … In fact I’m going to be using a piano, lots of cellos; probably a banjo, because I quite like that instrument at the moment. Geoffrey just gave me carte blanche because they’re a scoring stage, so we have all these musicians on tap. I can indulge myself. Which is what I fully intend to do.
For the full interview, visit Mess+Noise.
Mess+Noise interview: Amy Findlay of Stonefield, 2011
An interview for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
Interview – Stonefield: Rock ‘N’ Roll High School
Forget gimmickry, Stonefield’s Amy Findlay tells ANDREW MCMILLEN the all-sister quartet from country Victoria want to be known for their music.
There’s an endless fascination associated with staring into the musical past, as evidenced most recently with the Critics’ and Readers’ poll-topping debut by Perth-based psychedelic rock act Tame Impala. Seemingly from that same well of inspiration spring Stonefield: four sisters from country Victoria, aged 12 to 20 years old.
Brandishing a youthful take on 70s-inspired rock, they won last year’s triple j Unearthed High competition, and have since secured a booking at the 2011 Glastonbury Festival in the UK. Richard Kingsmill, music director of triple j, could be heard singing their praises at the One Movement festival in October last year: “They’ve just had an absolutely brilliant musical upbringing,” Kingsmill enthused. “They’ve got very wide and considerable depth in their music knowledge. They’re four sisters who can really play, and who can really belt it out. They’re already great live. I think they might be a band that might evolve into something.”
Ahead of their Glastonbury Festival slot in June, the Findlay sisters are booked to play the St Kilda Festival, the Adelaide Fringe Festival, and Pushover 2011 in the same month; a gruelling schedule, considering that half of the band members are still school-aged.
You’ve got a pretty full gig calendar coming up. Will it be a struggle to fit in rehearsal and gigs around Sarah and Holly’s school commitments?
Amy: Well, we managed to do it throughout last year when we had a lot of stuff coming up, but I think we’re going to have to do a bit of time management to fit in rehearsals after school. They’re going to have a few days off, obviously, and if it gets too much, they’re probably just going to be switching to home-schooling. So we’ll see how we go.What does the band’s typical weekly schedule look like?
At the moment, because everybody’s on school holidays, we’re just practicing as much as we can every day. This month hasn’t been too full-on with gigs, so we’ve had lots of time to write, and rehearse old songs. But when it goes back to school, it’ll be band practice every afternoon that we can, and on the weekends, playing gigs as they pop up. And interviews during the week.Of which you’re handling most. You’re the mouthpiece.
Yeah! [Laughs]Were you elected into that position, or did the others not want to do it?
I just ended up doing it because I’m the older sister, I guess. It naturally happened that way.Where do you rehearse?
We’ve got a shed on our farm, so we go in there and make as much noise as we like, and no-one really hears. Unless it’s a windy day, and the sound travels. [Laughs]I saw a post on your MySpace blog where one of your wrote that you’d been “warned to look out for “sharks” in the music industry”. Who told you that?
A lot of people in the industry; managers and things. When we first won the triple j Unearthed High competition, I got as many phone numbers as I could and spoke to them, and got some advice. A lot of them said that there’s “sharks” in the industry that we should look out for. There’s also good people, of course. We haven’t really come across any of those sharks, just yet.
For the full interview, visit Mess+Noise. For more Stonefield, visit their Myspace. The music video for their song ‘Through The Clover‘ is embedded below.
Mess+Noise album review: Mr. Maps – ‘Wire Empire’
An album review for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
When you hear the phrase “Brisbane music”, what comes to mind? The ironic, self-aware pop of The Go-Betweens? The swing-for-the-fences, stadium-ready grandeur of Powderfinger? The urgent, sneering, fuck-the-world aesthetic of The Saints? Whatever your answer, it’s unlikely that moody, instrumental post-rock will rate a mention. Yet Brisbane is where Mr. Maps are based, and it just goes to show that a band’s musical style cannot just be defined by their location.
The lack of vocals on the band’s debut album Wire Empire gives off a sense of disembodiment, though a sense of warmth runs through these 10 tracks. Wire Empire is an immersive listen. These are complex arrangements that demand full attention – lest you miss the finer points – but it works just as well in the background, as the subconscious mind happily rides out the peaks. This is tough music to criticise. Objectively, there is very little “wrong” here. The bass swoons, the piano twinkles, the cello yawns; the guitars either shimmer with distortion or ring clean, depending on the mood that’s attempting to be summoned.
For the full review, visit Mess+Noise. For more Mr. Maps, visit their Tumblr.
Elsewhere: Mr. Maps’ EP ‘Nice Fights’ reviewed for Mess+Noise
Mess+Noise interview: Brent DeBoer of Immigrant Union, 2011
An interview for Mess+Noise. Excerpt below.
Immigrant Union: ‘We’re Six-Sevenths Australian’
Dandy Warhol Brent DeBoer has made a fresh start in Melbourne with a new seven-piece band Immigrant Union and a down-home country-rock sound. Ahead of a residency at The Tote, he talks to ANDREW MCMILLEN about the farmhouse jam that started it all, the status of the Dandy’s new album and whether his residency claim is legit. Photos by CARLIN SUNDELL.
Take one part Dandy Warhol, one part Lazy Son and one part Galvatron and you’ve got Immigrant Union, a new Melbourne-based act that more readily adheres to the Dylan/Young model of country-folk songwriting than any of those aforementioned acts. After meeting at Melbourne’s Cherry Bar and discovering their mutual appreciation for strumming classic country on acoustic guitars, the Dandy Warhols’ drummer Brent DeBoer and The Lazy Sons’ singer Bob Harrow recruited keyboardist Peter ‘Gamma’ Lubulwa of The Galvatrons to record together.
Between each band member’s touring commitments, DeBoer – who now lives in Melbourne, and last performed in Australia with the Dandys in September 2010 as part of the Parklife Festival tour – brought Harrow and Lubulwa across to his hometown of Portland, Oregon, in March 2010 to record with producer Gregg Williams (The Dandy Warhols). Though the results of their sessions haven’t yet been released, Immigrant Union are set to play a Thursday night Tote residency alongside Stonefield throughout February.
I want to clarify a few things in the band’s bio. It says that 24 hours after first meeting, Bob and yourself “ended up on a farm outside Nagambie [in Victoria] drinking VB and strumming classic country rock‘n’roll”. Is this a euphemism for something else?
No, no! We met that night at Cherry Bar. Matt Hollywood from the Brian Jonestown Massacre and I were hanging out there, and Bob came up and said, “Are you guys playing a gig? What’s going on?” He thought that maybe Jonestown and Dandys were on tour together, or something. We talked to him for a while, and hung out at Cherry all night. The next day, we were going on a road trip to a family friend’s farm, and we asked if Bob wanted to go. He rode along, and we just sat on the porch and did what dudes like us do, which is sit around and strum guitar.That sounds like a pretty organic way to start a band.
Oh, hell yeah. It was just so fun. That night, Bob played a couple of the songs he’d written, and they sounded really cool. I did the same, and Matt did the same. Of course, Hollywood was really busy in a couple of other bands. But when I started dating Sarah – who is now my wife – I was here [in Australia] quite a bit, so I’d always call up Bob and we’d always end up doing the same thing, strumming guitars. Sooner or later, we started to realise we had quite a few songs going, and started recruited more members.And it just so happened that you and Bob were fond of the same specific genre of music, which you now play.
At the time, Bob was in The Lazy Sons. He was the lead singer, and they’re pretty hard-rocking. He sings really high and loud. It’s kind of in that AC/DC, almost Axl Rose style. Real extreme. It’s really impressive, but he also has a thing for Dylan, Neil Young, and stuff like that. He’s getting his ya-yas out at that side of the spectrum at the moment.
For the full interview, visit Mess+Noise. For more Immigrant Union, visit their Myspace.
Elsewhere: a video interview with The Dandy Warhols in Portland, September 2010; the transcript from the same interview.
Mess+Noise story: Lofly Hangar: 2007-2010
A feature for Mess+Noise about a much-loved Brisbane venue.
ANDREW MCMILLEN laments the loss of short-lived Brisbane venue Lofly Hangar, which shut its doors in late 2010.
Nestled under a party goods store on Musgrave Road in Red Hill, the Lofly Hangar always seemed an unlikely meeting place for Brisbane’s independent music community. Located far from the dedicated entertainment precinct in Fortitude Valley – where the majority of the city’s live music venues are based – Red Hill is very much a residential area. Yet since it first opened its doors to the public in 2007, the Hangar built a reputation for delivering quality music to curious listeners in an intimate setting.
From the beginning, $10 got you inside – a cost which was maintained through until the final show in December 2010, except for the occasional special event – and since it was classed as a private residence, there was no liquor licensing regulations involved. You’d bring your own booze, and since the main area was adorned with couches, it didn’t feel dissimilar from your living room. Such was the charm of the Hangar: interesting people and new sounds, experienced in comfort. Upon entering, you’d be almost guaranteed to have a great – and cheap – night out.
The line-ups were curated by the Lofly brains trust – Phil Laidlaw, Andrew White, Greg Cooper, Chris Perren, and Joel Edmondson – and even if you’d never heard of the bands playing, the sounds emanating from the adjoining band room were almost always diverse and intriguing. The stage, however, was non-existent. The bands played on the floor, set up in front of a wall of old televisions. The venue’s PA wasn’t amazing, but it got the job done. An unspoken, Meredith-like “no dickheads” policy seemed to be in play throughout its existence. To visit the Hangar was to be among open-minded music fans. It was a beautiful thing.
The final Hangar was held on December 11, 2010; coincidentally, it was the 100th public show held at the venue. A few weeks beforehand, three Hangar co-organisers – Laidlaw, White, and Cooper, each musicians themselves with aheadphonehome, Restream, and Toy Balloon, respectively – reflected on their time at the forefront of the Brisbane independent music scene.
Genesis
Andrew White: We got a warehouse and leased it to practise and record in, and have parties with our friends’ bands. Then we started having more people coming. The idea came about to have it as a regular thing, every month. We were interested in putting on music that we liked. Having the parties has been a way of paying the bills. It was never a profit thing; it was just something that we wanted to keep going.
Phil Laidlaw: At the time [2007], there were around three or four venues [in Brisbane] – The Troubadour, Ric’s, The Zoo. So we’d approach people asking them to play, and they’d respond with, “What are you talking about?” The model of warehouse party shows wasn’t happening. There wasn’t a lot of faith in it. It was very difficult to get bands that we thought were good bands to play. But the culture of the space evolved from the parties we were having. There was no need for security, because we knew everyone here.
For the full article, visit Mess+Noise. For more on Lofly, visit their website.
With this story, I tried something I’d never done before: I went for an ‘oral history’ angle. I chatted with Andrew, Phil and Greg for over an hour on the evening of the last Hangar nights, and shaped the best / most relevant bits of that conversation into a narrative structure. I think it turned out OK.
