The Vine album review: Die! Die! Die!
An album review for The Vine.
Die! Die! Die! – Form
By now, Die! Die! Die! have assured their allegiance to a idiosyncratic punk-rock aesthetic: gritty, bottom-heavy, and consistently confronting. Like the New Zealand trio’s previous releases, Form contains a sound most unlike many other bands on the planet. Their hyperactive rhythms inspire vivid imagery of movement, of change, of progress. Form – their third full-length, and their first under the banner of legendary Kiwi indie Flying Nun Records – marks an evolution in the band’s songwriting, most notably in frontman Andrew Wilson’s guitar parts. He regularly alternates between a clean, jangly tone – usually during the verses – and punches one or more overdriven effects during the chorus. His playing isn’t formulaic, though, nor predictable; instead, his vocal and six-string contributions form the melodic basis amid the rhythmic bedrock laid down by bassist Lachlan Anderson and drummer Michael Prain.
Musically, Die! Die! Die! describe a man-made wasteland built upon deceit, treachery and wasted potential. Their soundtrack is drums, bass, guitar and vocals. The images they conjure are frequently alienating, yet curiously, this music is addictive. Its disembodied, abrasive nature still manages to communicate a human warmth.
Full review at The Vine.
More Die! Die! Die! on Facebook. This album is brilliant. Video for the Form track ‘HowYe‘ embedded below.
The Vine album review: Big Boi
An album review for The Vine.
Big Boi - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son Of Chico Dusty
Though they both effectively released a pair of solo albums under the OutKast moniker with 2003’s Speakerboxx/The Love Below, Atlanta-based rapper Big Boi steps away from his songwriting partnership with André 3000 for the first time to deliver nothing less than a monster album in Sir Lucious Left Foot. The title refers to one of Boi’s numerous alter-egos; two more, ‘Daddy Fat Sax’ and ‘General Patton’, are name-checked as song titles in the album’s first half. The key to this album’s thrilling ride lies within this approach: by taking advantage of the freedom to flit between several personas, the rapper can both shrink and exaggerate his true self. It’s less a schizophrenic episode than a tactic to unlock new songwriting ideas and it’s one that works beautifully.
In a decision seemingly born from label-related frustrations – this album was first due out in 2008 – Big Boi leaked two tracks of originally intended for Sir Lucious Left Foot prior to the album’s release, in ‘Royal Flush’ (featuring Raekwon and Andre 3000) and ‘Sumthin’s Gotta Give’ (featuring Mary J. Blige). A slew of pre-release singles would follow, including ‘Shine Blockas’ (featuring Gucci Mane), ‘For Yo Sorrows’ (featuring George Clinton and Too $hort), and ‘General Patton’ (featuring Big Rube). All of which might seem like overkill if it weren’t for the monster lead single proper ‘Shutterbugg’ (featuring Cutty).
Full review at The Vine. More Big Boi on MySpace; music video for ‘Shutterbugg‘ embedded below. For mine, this is a real contender for album of the year. I don’t get into most hip-hop, but this is outstanding.
The Vine album review: The Boat People
An album review for The Vine.
The Boat People – Dear Darkly
Over three decades ago, a pair of aspiring Brisbane musicians set down two rules that they’d follow throughout their long partnership: they were to equally share the amount of songs that appeared on each album between themselves, and they’d never do anything without the other’s permission. That pair was Robert Forster and Grant McLennan, who founded seminal pop band The Go-Betweens in 1978. In 2010, whether conscious or not, another pair of Brisbane pop writers – James O’Brien and Robin Waters – have tapped into this same ethos for their band The Boat People’s third album, Dear Darkly. Like every Go-Betweens album, they touch upon romance and melancholy in equal measure. And like every Go-Betweens album, Dear Darkly consistently errs on the side of greatness.
Augmented by guitarist Charles Dugan and drummer Tony Garrett, the duo each author six songs on an album that exhibits the best work of their decade-long career. Though their last LP, 2008’s Chandeliers, was subject to a three-year gestation process, they’ve opted to work faster this time around. The result is their most eclectic collection to date.
Full review at The Vine. More Boat People on their MySpace. Music video for ‘Soporific‘ is embedded below.
The Vine album review: Dead Letter Circus
An album review for The Vine. Excerpt below.
Dead Letter Circus – This Is The Warning
Three bands define Australian hard rock: Karnivool, The Butterfly Effect, and Cog. It’s nigh on impossible to discuss Brisbane quartet Dead Letter Circus without referring to the current scene’s pioneering figures. In the context of those bands, it’s perfectly reasonable to wonder aloud: is DLC’s debut full-length a contender to Karnivool’s stellar 2005 debut, Themata? Does it stack up to The Butterfly Effect’s first LP, Begins Here? Can it be favourably compared to Cog’s The New Normal? The answers, respectively: it’s not, it doesn’t, and it can’t. It’s far from a trainwreck, but on the whole, it’s consistently disappointing.
A bit of history: Dead Letter Circus released their debut EP in 2007. Its six tracks were treated by Forrester Savell, the go-to man for alternative rock production in Australia. DLC relentlessly toured the land for the next several years to celebrate occasional singles and EPs in the lead-up to This Is The Warning, their first release with Warner Bros. They’ve worked hard to cultivate a significant fanbase, who rewarded the band with a #2 debut on the ARIA charts.
Full album review at The Vine. Though I was all over that debut EP when it first came out, I am not fond of this release. More on the band at MySpace; ‘Big‘ video embedded below.
The Vine album review: Janelle Monáe
An album review for The Vine.
Janelle Monáe – The ArchAndroid
For the uninitiated, go peep Janelle Monáe’s jaw-dropping performance of ‘Tightrope’ on Letterman in May 2010 then report back, just so you know what you’re dealing with here. Ordinarily, this’d be a cop-out; ordinarily, you’d be right to call me a goddamned lazy writer for pointing readers off-screen. But damn, if you haven’t seen that video, you must. It’s remarkable because Monáe – an exceptional vocalist, dancer and entertainer in her own right – is operating within the tightly-leashed, clichéd confines of the late night TV spot, yet somehow, the singer and her band skilfully throw aside decades of forced, contrived on-camera choreography through sheer energy and charisma. It’s the most memorable TV performance of my generation; truly, a career-defining four minutes. Without that kick-ass, life-affirming performance, I wouldn’t know her name or her music.
Full review at The Vine. More Janelle Monáe at MySpace. ‘Tightrope’ live on Letterman video embedded below. It’s amazing.
The Vine album review: Mike Patton’s Mondo Cane
An album review for The Vine.
Mike Patton – Mondo Cane
I’m coming clean: I wouldn’t be listening to Mondo Cane if Mike Patton’s name wasn’t on the cover; I can’t understand Italian, and I’ve never heard the original versions of these songs (barring one track, ‘Deep Down’, which was the theme song to ace 1968 comic book film adaption Danger:Diabolik). These factors could conspire against my capacity to enjoy this album – but they don’t. Mondo Cane is a wholly thrilling ride. Patton possesses one of rock music’s most distinctive and admired voices, and while he’s the star here, these 11 songs are filled out with depth and colour by the contributions of some 65 orchestral performers.
While recent Faith No More converts – via their widely-celebrated reunion world tour – might find Patton’s latest project a little too challenging, I’d argue that Mondo Cane shows the singer fronting his most accessible act yet. This music speaks to me in a language that the average rock band can’t fathom, and I’m not just referring to Patton’s fluently-sung Italian. I’m of the opinion that orchestral music moves humans far beyond the emotions that can be summoned by any configuration of guitar, bass and drums; here, Mondo Cane proves my point. From the opening strains of ‘Il Cielo In Una Stanza’, I’m hooked.
Full review at The Vine. This album is the shit. To get an idea of what the hell I’m talking about, watch the video embedded below.
Elsewhere: I interviewed Mike Patton for The Vine about Mondo Cane. Read it here.
The Vine interview: Mike Patton
An interview for The Vine.
Mike Patton has a reputation for restless innovation. He’s best known as singer of Faith No More – who toured Australia with the Soundwave Festival earlier this year – as well as his other experiment rock acts Fantomas, Peeping Tom, Tomahawk and Mr Bungle. Patton’s voice is one of the most distinctive of this era, and he’s also lent it to collaborations with artists like Dillinger Escape Plan, Dangermouse, Dan The Automator and Rahzel.
His latest project is named Mondo Cane (pronounced ‘Carn-ay’). The newly-released album sees Patton singing 1950s- and 60s-era Italian pop songs before a 65-piece orchestra. It’s effectively a love letter to his time spent living in Italy a decade ago. The Vine discussed this concept with Patton during our half-hour conversation, in addition to touching upon his fascination with Italian composer Ennio Morricone and whether his record label, Ipecac Recordings, could be considered a tastemaker among alternative and indie music fans.
Full interview at The Vine, which includes a couple of Mondo Cane video embeds. I can’t recommend this stuff highly enough.
On a personal note, this was an immensely satisfying interview to research and conduct. I have a lot of respect for Mike Patton; I remember being enchanted by his voice when I first heard it via my brother Stuart‘s copy of their greatest hits record, Who Cares A Lot?, which even my parents dug. So it was a thrill to speak with the man and uncover some aspects of his latest projects that other interviews hadn’t considered.
Sidenote: I put the call out for interview questions on Twitter and Facebook, and was contacted by a Chilean guy named José Ignacio Vidal, who runs a Mike Patton fansite. He emailed me several questions that I ended up using, including those related to Mondo Cane’s musical arranger, Daniele Luppi and the album art designer, Martin Kvamme. José translated and republished my interview on his blog (!!) alongside a couple of kind introductory paragraphs, which I’ve translated (from Spanish, via Google, to amusing effect) below. Thanks, José!
Exactly two weeks ago I read online that a guy named Andrew McMillen was looking for people, “x” to send him questions and Mike Patton Mondo Cane and specific about was how to send you a simple question of entry, which I’m liking very grateful and asked me if it was possible to send him more. Blindly I did send him seven questions of which one of them Pogo gave me the lights for one of the funniest questions regarding this interview Daniele Luppi and another involving a female question and thinking in those days who had the disc their hands? I went to Sofi ^ ^ who enlightened me to ask about the cover art and oddities, like a butterfly because the pole.
Addition and continues with the romantic effect Patton’s Mondo Cane and some subtleties that are seen in this most entertaining interviews in recent days, if not more than five years. Mike Patton talking a lot, reveals the most intimate nuances of the new album from Mondo Cane, full of surprises that really had not read before. Patton was very comfortable and it shows because they are about 8 sheets of non-stop interview.
Without further ado and especially thanking Andrew, all the best for you buddy, thanks a lot! I leave this great interview, in our view the best of 2010 ;)
Visit José Ignacio Vidal’s Chilean Mike Patton fansite here.
The Vine album review: Foals
An album review for The Vine.
Foals – Total Life Forever
There’s an elephant in the room, and it’s named ‘Spanish Sahara‘. This is the name of the first single released from the second Foals album, Total Life Forever, and it’s a heart-melter. It’s all the more remarkable considering that this British quintet’s first release, 2008′s Antidotes, was characterised by dancefloor-ready beats, an abundance of needly hammer-on, pull-off riffs and an affinity with the sub-genre of ‘math rock’.
‘Spanish Sahara’ sits in the album’s centre; in turn, it forms the beating heart of Foals’ revised artistic direction. In stark contrast to their previously-accessible singles, the epic song’s payoff occurs over halfway into its seven minutes. Singer Yannis Philippakis urges listeners – and himself, perhaps – to “Forget the horror here / Leave it all down, here / It’s future rust, and then it’s future dust”, as the song slowly builds upon a sparse introduction to climax amid an ethereal lead guitar melody, thundering tom rolls and, ultimately, a somber, circular synth pattern. Though I’m loathe to draw parallels to a younger, less accomplished act, the song’s ascending arrangement can be charted in a similar manner to The Temper Trap’s ‘Sweet Disposition‘. Whether this song will scale those same dizzying heights of ubiquity – yes, unlikely – remains to be seen. But as an artistic statement, ‘Spanish Sahara’ is peerless among indie pop circa 2010.
Full review at The Vine.
This is only just behind Crystal Castles in album-of-the-year-so-far terms. I love it. Please watch ‘Spanish Sahara’ below.
A Conversation With Mikey Young, Eddy Current Suppression Ring guitarist
Eddy Current Suppression Ring are a Melbourne garage rock band. I spoke with their guitarist, Mikey Young [pictured right], for a story in The Big Issue (‘Keeping Current‘) that was published in late April 2010. Our conversation took place on March 17, ahead of a national tour in support of their third album, Rush To Relax. What follows is a transcript of our whole conversation.
Andrew: Mikey, my first question is more of a statement than a question. It’s something that I’ve noticed. Eddy Current seem to be one of the best bands in Australia at deflecting any and all praise thrown your way.
Mikey: Well I appreciate praise, but it makes me really uncomfortable. I’m glad people like us, for sure, but I’m very wary of not letting praise go to our heads or thinking about it much.
So it’s not a matter of when you’re nominated for a new award or critical accolade, you don’t sit down together and go, “Right, what’s the best way to downplay this?”
No, not at all. I’m usually the one doing the interviews and so it’s probably my reactions that appear [in the media]. I don’t want to come across… I’m sure that quietly in my head I’m stoked and we’re proud of ourselves, but we definitely don’t sit around and say “let’s downplay it”. And the opposite of that, we don’t sit around going “how good are we?!”, slapping ourselves on the back. Awards and stuff are funny anyway, they’re a strange concept. We try not to think about it, and just make some tunes.
A broad question: why do you think people like your band?
That’s another thing I’ve briefly thought about in the past and I realised the more I think about it, actually I don’t really want to think about it. I don’t really want to know why people… I don’t want to be conscious of that. I feel it might sort of affect how we make music. If I’m oblivious to it and we just do it, for ourselves, then I figure it will be easier on my head.
I have thought about it, though. I think we’re a good live band, which helps. I think there is a fair simplicity to the music, and honesty in Brendan’s delivery and lyrics. I guess when things are really simple and honest upfront, then maybe they appeal to a larger range of people. I don’t know. I think to keep things pretty simple, then a lot of people can get into it. That’s not why we make simple music. I guess that’s just the way it turned out, but if I had to think about why people like us, hopefully it’s because we’re an okay band.
Do you think a band’s talent is reflected in their number of fans or number of records sold?
Are you asking whether popularity is representative of talent? Not always, I would think not. Seeing as I can barely listen to the radio these days, but that’s just my opinion. I just can’t stand a lot of popular music. That doesn’t really mean they’re talentless. I’m sure there is talent in making songs that I consider horrible to my ears; it just doesn’t work for me. I feel out of the loop when it comes to popular music at the moment. I’m probably not the best person to ask that question. Popularity and talent aren’t always on the same page.
Reading your past interviews, I did notice that the recurring theme of refusing to self-promote…
I have to stop doing all these interviews. I have all the same answers. [laughs]
There’s a quote of yours that I like: “I think if you don’t shove yourself in peoples’ faces, they’ll end up liking you more in the long run.”
I guess that was – maybe not from the start because we probably didn’t think that far ahead, but when we realised things were starting to have some sort of groundswell of popularity, that was something I was pretty aware of, just from being a music fan, reading magazines over the years, that if a band is shoved in your face publicity-wise; if they’re on the front cover and have ads everywhere and you can’t escape them, they don’t really feel like [they’re] yours. If you let someone go out and find it in their own time, it probably feels more special to them. It’s like they’ve made the groundwork, and it might feel more like their band rather than everybody’s band.
The self-discovery aspect is always more interesting to indie music fans. Those kinds of artists don’t have a big marketing budget behind them, and it’s generally the fans and critics that propel them forward, instead of the band themselves.
Hopefully it attracts people to your band that actually like your band for the right reasons; they like the music you do and that’s the reason they’re into your band, not for any other reason. It’s more enjoyable, rather than being told to like something.
Reading those interviews, there are lots of mentions of ‘finding yourself in certain situations’, as if you’re indicating that your success is entirely accidental.
It’s not entirely accidental. It’s definitely not the goal. We haven’t done anything to further our career. If we tour overseas, it’s not to ‘crack a market’ or anything like that, or if we put a record out at a certain time, or anything like that. The only thing that is on purpose in this band is the making of the records and playing of shows. I guess everything else is a by-product of that. Maybe accidental is the wrong word. There have been a lot of funny accidents, but we’ve had a ridiculously good run. I guess success has never been our goal. None of us are anti-success; if that happens, that’s awesome, but it’s all a by-product of what we want to do, which is to make the best records that we can.
You’re heavily involved in the Melbourne indie scene with the label and your time at the vinyl pressing plant [Corduroy]. Surely you must have had some idea that the music you were making would appeal to people.
Not really. I don’t work at the plant anymore. I’m not even involved in the label anymore. That’s only a recent development. I guess I’m involved now. When I started, I didn’t really know that many people within that scene. I knew a small group of people from the record plant, but when we had that first jam I really didn’t think that it would appeal to that many people at all. I knew we could probably press 200 7-inches and get away with it, and then our friends and family would probably buy enough of them to make our money back. Beyond that, I thought I’d have them sitting under my bed for a year, then I’ll get rid of them when we play a show, and that will be fine. That’s all we wanted to do, was usually play one show, just to show our friends, “Look what we’ve got.”
I think after the first show I did realise people did really like this. I was sort of surprised and I could see that there were bands before that I felt didn’t really have anything special about them, and when I did play with this band I did feel like there was that special thing that I’ve been looking for in other bands. I noticed that other people noticed that too. There’s no way that I thought that many people would like us. I sort of think if I hear us on triple j or something, I think we stick out really weirdly and don’t sound like a real band or something. I’m actually slightly flummoxed that we’re as popular as we are.
Is it uncomfortable feeling when you hear your songs on the radio?
I don’t listen to the radio that much anymore so I don’t have to bother about it. It’s sort of nice; because I’m so heavily involved with the making of the music and the recording of the music, when I hear it accidentally on the radio or when I’m out somewhere in a shop, I can be a bit objective about it for a second. I can sort of go, “Actually, this is pretty good.” The only way I can hear it as an outsider for a brief second.
Then you think, “Wait a second, I actually recorded and mixed that.”
Yeah, it takes about three seconds before it processes that it’s actually me playing. In those three seconds, I can have this weird brief moment of “Ah, I like this” and sort of feel different about it.
I want to clarify your role within the band. You’re the guitarist, keyboardist, and you mix the albums?
I record and mix them, yeah.
Is the band still self-managed?
Yes, for the first time – for our whole career I’ve just booked the shows and I guess managed the band, just out of accident. We got bigger, and someone needed to do it and I had more time on my hands, so I kept doing it. This coming album tour is the first time I’ve ever handed over any of the responsibility to an outsider; we’ve got a tour manager this time. It’s gotten to the stage where the shows, especially for the album launches, are quite big. I wanted to sit back for once and just enjoy myself and just play. Sometimes, on the bigger shows, I get a bit stressed out with the responsibility of it all, and I’m more waiting for the relief of it to be over, rather than enjoying the show. I thought I just want to go out there and relax for a tour, just let someone do all the other stuff, like booking flights and everything.
Did you find it difficult to hand over the reins?
Yeah. Well, it’s still happening. The tour’s about to start. I think I found it weird. In a way, it’s no less work. You’re still [included] in the same emails, there’s just a middleman now, but I do feel a distance from responsibility, like I don’t feel like, “God, it’s my fault if this tour goes wrong” or something like that. I feel like just a band member and I feel good about it. I think we have gone so far with it being totally insular and doing it all ourselves. I did feel pretty weird to sort finally let go of something. It’s been good so far.
You might be aware that there’s a bit of a backlash about the last album, which tends to happen with almost any band who ‘outgrows their roots’.
I read one or two reviews. I think it was a Tom Hawking review [on The Vine] and then a response to that review that someone alerted me to. To be honest, I think for a band in our position we’ve gotten amazingly far without really having a strong backlash. Even if there is a backlash on the new record, it’s sort of been pretty minute. You put out three records; someone is going to like your first record better than the new one. Plenty of people whose opinion I totally trust think this is our best record. I should just be happy that anyone likes any of our records; I don’t think the backlash is for any other reason despite the music. I don’t care. I don’t like some records. Is that all that the backlash is about? You’re probably more aware of it than I am.
For example, there’s a topic on the Mess+Noise discussion boards called “Eddy Current Backlash” which was mostly about that Tom Hawking review. It currently has 178 responses.
Okay. I’m probably just guilty of Googling my own band and reviews as anyone else. I do realise it’s not the healthiest of habits. [laughs]. I’m not taking it to heart anyway, but I don’t know; that’s fine. It wasn’t a bad review. It seemed pretty genuinely thought-out, smartly written and stuff. It’s just weird for me. People think more about our records than we actually do. That’s the only thing that’s weird to me: I don’t think we’re the type of band you need to dissect that much. “We wrote ten songs in the last year, and we recorded them. Here they are.” That’s sort of how much we think about it. It’s funny to see other people analyse it when there is – it’s like other people care about it more than we do.
I read a quote about your live shows where you said the bigger the band gets, the harder it is to please everyone, and you probably took it to heart a bit at first and you’re trying to make sure everyone is having a good time.
That could equally apply to the records we put out. There was a stage when the shows got a bit bigger and the people that were there at the start weren’t enjoying it as much as the crowds got a bit rowdier. They got pushed to the back and there were jerks there. It would really affect me to find out after the show that so-and-so had a bad time because some dude was being a wanker. Not that I really want to tolerate jerks at any of our shows, but I’ve also got to realise that I can’t control everything and have to do everything I can and then just play a show and enjoy it, rather than stress about every person in the audience. It is a bit harder to control a thousand people compared to fifty.
A Mess+Noise writer asked you in 2006 whether violence at a rock and roll show is ever justifiable. I’d like to put that question to you again, now that you’re quite a bit bigger than you were in 2006.
I don’t think violence at shows is ever justifiable. I don’t think violence anywhere can be justified. I don’t see a place for it, for sure, and I definitely don’t see a place for it at our gigs. I’ve never really understood that kind of reaction to our kind of music. It seems to me sort of fairly good-time music in my head. Maybe I’m wrong.
You mentioned in another interview that Eddy Current can offer support slots to bands that you really like, to help or to expose them to other people. Was this because other bands extended that same courtesy to you when you were starting out?
Yeah definitely, and it’s just more from being a fan of records. For instance, those overseas bands that we’ve played with; I’m sure Thee Oh Sees would have done fine without us, but if we can do a couple of shows and 500 or 1,000 people seeing them that maybe hadn’t heard of them, you know, then that’s awesome. It’s good when overseas bands come out and you’re in a position where you can do that. It’s the same with local bands, friends’ bands, and stuff like that. You just want to play with bands you love and you want to expose. I guess people come to our shows, there are a lot of people now that maybe don’t go to smaller gigs and stuff like that. If we can just expose some good bands, then you feel like you’ve done a good deed.
You’re paying forward what you felt in the past couple of years, when you were growing your fanbase.
Totally, and also like all the bands I grew up watching when I was first turned 18, 19 – bands like The Exotics and The Breadmakers – to be able to now put them on shows in front of younger dudes who wouldn’t have seen them before. It’s repaying that favor to those bands that have entertained us a heap over the years.
I want to ask you about the live music scene in Melbourne at the moment, because I saw that Eddy Current were involved with The Tote’s final show. Did you attend the SLAM rally?
I didn’t, actually. I’m glad it went really well. I had a mixing session to help a dude finish a record that day. I thought of cancelling, but then I thought “what’s the point?”. I thought it would be more proactive to sit there and help someone finish making music than actually go protest about not being able to make music.
I’m not trying to guilt trip you for not being there, you know.
Not at all, I was just explaining. [laughs]
Following The Tote’s closure, how do you feel about the live music scene in Melbourne? Do you think it’s healthier, or really struggling because of those liquor licensing laws?
I always say the wrong answer to these kinds of questions. I don’t think I said the things that people wanted to hear when The Tote closed. But The Tote was great, The Tote was awesome to my band and it was a good place for years. In that time, I know a lot of venues have closed down, but a lot of venues are still open. It seems to me – I guess I’ve been in the city for 11 years or so – like Melbourne has more venues [now] than it did 10 years ago. There seems to be more bands.
Shit’s gotta die off and get fresh again. I think good things will happen, and good things will continue to happen, and even though it seems sad now, it’s probably good in a way. Things might get stale and younger dudes will start new venues and we’ll all think of different ways of doing things. I think Melbourne is strong enough to survive with one less venue.
To change topics entirely, I want to ask about the masks on the cover of Rush To Relax, even though probably every other music journalist you’ve spoken to has asked the same question.
No-one has actually asked about the masks.
What inspired you to use them?
I don’t know. Nothing, really. I think we just had the idea for the film clip before we had the cover. We wanted the film clip to look a bit creepy. We just wanted a creepy-looking film clip and then we had the idea of shooting the cover on the same day because we didn’t want to hire a plane twice. Maybe we were just scared of our own faces on the covers, but there is no symbolic meaning behind the masks. They were cool, so we put them on.
It’s the first release of yours where the band actually appear on the cover.
I know, I think people were getting a bit sick of our other covers. [laughs]
So the masks weren’t a matter of trying to protect your anonymity?
Not really. We’re pretty conscious of never wanting to be the ‘four dudes in leather jackets down an alleyway’ type of band. It happened because of the film clip. We had an idea for the film clip and we didn’t really want to – we wanted a different look for the film clip. That shot [the album cover] just happened to be a shot from the day of the film clip. That’s all there is to the masks.
How much attention to you guys pay to the band’s image?
Not much. There’s not really much difference between the way we look or act on stage or in the band than how we do in normal life. I guess the only attention we’re paying is just giving accurate representation of ourselves. That’s about it.
You actually hired a plane for the album shot and the video clip?
Yes.
Which company did you go with? Did they dig the concept of what you were doing?
It was pretty hard to find a company that still does those old plane banners. I think it was a guy called Sky Surfers down in some town in country Victoria. I always used to like those banners as a kid and I always wanted one. Our album cost nothin’, and our friends film our videos, and I guess we won some money last year [the AMP] and I felt like we should show that we spent it on something. So we might as well get a stupid big plane. When it came flying over, while were waiting to film the clip, it was seriously the most exciting event. We were just jumping up and down going “yes!”
“We’ve made it. We have a banner!”
Totally, man! It was like “box ticked – I can retire now”.
Do you still have the banner?
Unfortunately, they just recycle the letters and you can’t keep the banner.
Drag.
It would have been excellent to put it up at the back of our gigs or something.
It would. With each album you’ve kind of gone backwards. I read that Rush To Relax was recorded even cheaper and more quickly than the last one. Do you see a logical conclusion to this pattern? Will you end up recording an hour-long album in an hour?
I always thought about it but I think probably not. I can’t see how we can do it much more quickly and cheaper than this one. Definitely not any cheaper. Too much attention is paid to how long it takes for us to record albums. It’s not like we’re trying to prove a point. I have the recording gear so it doesn’t cost us anything. We’re comfortable with doing it that way, and that it sounds okay for what we’re trying to do. Unlike some bands maybe, who go into a recording session to write songs or something, we have 12 – 15 songs written and ready to go. It’s basically just setting up.
The album is only 40 minutes of music, so I always thought if you can’t play the songs you’re trying to record well after three takes, you shouldn’t be recording it. We try a song a couple of times and hopefully it’s done. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Brendan always seems to be quirky and out of time, and there’s plenty of room for bum notes and stuff like that. I like that kind of thing about this kind of music. We’re not trying to achieve any kind of perfection. Six hours [to record an album] is plenty of time.
On the other end of the spectrum, do you ever see yourselves being victims or locking yourselves in the studio for a week to really nail it out properly, with a big name producer and all that sort of music industry bullshit?
I’m not against that kind of thing. I don’t think it suits our band. I just don’t think it would work. I’m pretty sure that this way is the correct way for this band. It’s not necessarily how I’d do it for any other band or any other band I’d record. I don’t think it’s definitely the way to do it, I just think that it works for this band.
Having said that, I don’t walk out at the end of the day with a finished product. I still bring it home and mix it, and spend some time making it sound okay. There is other time beyond those 6 hours, but I just guess we have the luxury of having our own gear and I relatively know what I’m doing. I can just mix the record in my bedroom. It’s nice to be in the position where you don’t have to rely on producers and studios.
Are you happy to keep doing that for the next few Eddy Current releases?
Yeah, I think so. For a new song we just wrote, I’ve got a very different idea that I wouldn’t mind trying a different way. I think I’m happy with, if anything, I can see us doing it sort of rougher. Like, I think we can experiment with some 4-track cassette recordings rather than 8-track, and I think I’d really like the drum sound we’re getting on that, so if we do some more stuff I wouldn’t be surprised if we regress even further.
That sounds like the ultimate way to make money: to be completely DIY indie, to release the album for nothing, and just to tour on the back of it and make money.
I guess it’s a way of keeping costs down, that’s for sure.
Eddy Current are credited with having a large impact on the Australian punk and garage revival scene. What are your thoughts on that?
I think there have actually been a couple of bands that have sprung up since that I feel some sort of kinship with, but I think if it wasn’t us that did that, it would have been someone else. I think it was one of those things that were going to happen anyway. We just happened to get in first.
I read that you’re fond of playing house parties and small gigs to ‘keep it real’ for the old fans.
I think it’s mainly for our sanity. If we play the big shows in Perth all the time, we just go nuts. I guess just to do an occasional really small show and house party is just really to keep us sane and to remember that type of show and enjoy the show. I guess it keeps things as diverse as possible.
The upcoming tour you’re playing mid-sized kind of venues. In Brisbane, you’re playing The Zoo.
Which is pretty big for us. I think we’ve only played The Step Inn in Brisbane, so I guess The Zoo seems like the logical step up, up there. Brisbane hasn’t got a lot of options.
No, it really doesn’t. Between The Zoo, which is 450, I think the next step up is the Hi-Fi, which is 1,000+.
I don’t think we’re ready to go to that, not in Brisbane anyway. I don’t think our following is that strong up there.
I read a quote where you said you’ve done a good job with distancing yourself from the music biz. I saw that you turned down SXSW, which a lot of other Australian bands probably wouldn’t do. They’d probably view that as a massive opportunity.
It was probably bad timing, but I’d just rather go over there and play a lot of shows and not really worry about that kind of stuff. I think SXSW is probably really enjoyable for a local because you get to see a lot of bands, but unless you’re going there for a reason and trying to become something, it’s probably not the best time to play a show. I’d rather wait until things die down and do a normal tour.
Considering there are 1,500 or 1,800 bands playing in a week or something.
Totally. It almost sounds like it’s working against its purpose.
I’ve read that you’ve got quite a broad taste in music, Mikey. I want to know what inspired you to play guitar in that Eddy Current style.
I don’t know; I’m sure it’s a bunch of things. Definitely my time at Corduroy [Records, a vinyl pressing plant], being surrounded by those type of bands and musicians and stuff, had an influence on the type of music I play and how I play. I spent three years listening to teenage garage records from the ‘60s or something, and I realised that that’s the sound of guitar I like and I’m going to try my best to rip it off.
I have one last question. It’s about the Australian Music Prize. It’s gone from Eddy Current’s indie garage sound to the current winner, which is a major label-distributed album by a former Australian Idol contestant.
This is a loaded question, isn’t it? [laughs]
I just want to gauge your take on that.
That’s fine. I think it’s definitely reactionary. I think it was pretty obvious the day after we won it that they were going to give it to a chick this year. I haven’t heard Lisa Mitchell’s records so I’m not in a position to say if it’s a good record or bad record. I think I heard one of the songs on the radio and quite liked it. I guess if they’re doing it for why I say they’re doing it, it shouldn’t really matter if it’s on a major or indie or if it’s an Australian Idol winner or not. If they honestly think it’s the best record then so be it.
That’s a very diplomatic response.
I’m so out of the loop that I probably haven’t heard any of the records on the damn thing anyway. I don’t think I’m really the best person qualified. I have no ill feeling towards that.
That’s all I’ve got for you, Mikey.
Hopefully there’s something there. I rambled.
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Check out Eddy Current Suppression Ring on MySpace, and view the video for ‘Rush To Relax’ below.
The Vine album review: The Optimen
An album review for The Vine.
The Optimen – The Out Of Money Experience
I tend to let most Australian hip-hop go through to the keeper. Not through a particular aversion to the genre, but because when I wrap my ears around a hip-hop release, I want to be inspired. Motivated. Energised. Put simply, I want to hear something great. Which is why I paid attention when I saw that The Optimen had a new release due. Their first album, Boomtown – a term of endearment for their native city of Brisbane – was a class act. It stayed with me throughout the entirety of 2005; five years later, it remains a stellar effort. And though The Optimen did produce beats and record a couple of songs for some of their labelmates’ best work on 2007′s Red Tape Renegade Vol 1, this is Boomtown‘s true successor.
Full review at The Vine. If you have any interest in Australian hip-hop, check out The Optimen on MySpace.
It’s true that I don’t pay Australian hip-hop too much attention. If you’re involved with a hip-hop act, drop me a line to try and convince me.
