It’s a rare pleasure to encounter a musician who’s music left a significant impact on your youthful, impressionable self. Rarer still for their music to sound as deeply melodic and punchy as any great pop/rock band you’ll hear today, but alas, if only I could show you. It’s a fate that has befallen many a small band in the days before the internet, before Youtube, before any kind of shared archive or means of documenting information that would prove, beyond scratchy pieces of vinyl and faded memories, that they even existed. The music does remain, but so too unanswered questions about the band itself — where it all started, why it all ended and what happened inbetween.

The band in question were called Helvelln. It’s ok for you to think “who? never heard of ‘em”. Honestly, you’d have to be aged 35+, Australian, and a regular listener of Triple J or Triple R. Maybe you watched Neighbours. In the finicky annals of Australian music history, and with no disrespect to Helvelln, they barely warrant a mention. To briefly summarise, Helvelln were an inspired pop/rock 3-piece formed in Melbourne in the late 80′s, released two singles and one album and then broke up in the early 90′s. Google them and you’ll get pictures of mountains. Impressive and rocky, but hardly rock n’ roll.

It was a great pleasure to track down Jeremy Gronow, Helvelln’s vocalist/guitarist and songwriter who gave up considerable time and effort (in one of the longest interviews we’ve ever done), to help shape another chapter in our series on the Secret History of Australian Music.

How did Helvelln get started?

The bass player Andrew Papadopoulos and I met at school and began playing in a couple of bands. After school we kept going but lost a singer to NIDA (an acting school) in Sydney and a drummer (I forget why).

We met Nick, Helvelln’s drummer about 1988/89 after I called 3RRR in desperation to ask if they would mention we were looking for a drummer on air. By chance the girl who answered the phone knew Nick and hooked him up with us. At that time we had a new singer as well who left after a couple of months.

Rather than look for a new singer (we were sick of auditioning people), we decided I would sing until someone better came along. At the time i was a bit disappointed to be the singer as I really wanted to be a cool guitarist and singing made it hard to show off on guitar.

What was the decision behind giving the band such an obscure and prone-to-misspelling name? If I recall correctly, you chose one spelling on your first single and then subsequently dropped it!

The band name was Nick’s idea – it was originally Helvyvelln, which he liked because it had a kind of symmetry around the ‘V’ (Nick’s next band was called ‘dollop’ for similar reasons). It was the name of a mountain in Wales that he had heard about while travelling. We later found out that it is the highest mountain that you can legally cycle across in the UK.

As you mention unfortunately no-one could pronouce it (the first in a series of pretty stupid marketing ideas we had) and eventually we shortened it to Helvelln. That didn’t clear things up though and we kept getting mistaken for a Melbourne Van Halen cover band called Hans Valen. I recall turning up a gig once and the bar manager saying “I’m pumped you’re playing here tonight, do you do “Hot for Teacher”?”.

What were your influences starting out?

I was really into The Jam (Style Council also, I’m a longtime Paul Weller fan), the Clash and the Who. Hoodoo Gurus, Violent Femmes, Paul Kelly, Steven Cummings, Wedding Parties Anything. Harem Scarem, Blue Ruin, TISM, the Fish John West Reject and Paul Kelly. I remember we all liked Midnight Oil as well (hell, who didn’t at that time?). Nick brought in some different influences like Hendrix and Peter Gabriel (we loved his movie soundtrack to Passion of Christ).

As the band went on we turned each other on to a lot of bands. Some of my favourite memories of the band are the way we would play each other new stuff, usually in the van on the way to gigs – we got into the Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, Ride, Pixies, the Breeders, Jane’s Addiction and Nirvana.

I recall some early hype being that you won nationwide campus band competition? How long had the band been playing at this point?

We won the National Campus battle of the Bands in 1990 and would have been together 2 years at that stage.

Andy and I were both at Melbourne University which had a bit of music scene going on at the time. I think we entered the year before and didn’t do very well but then in 1990 we hit our straps and won our heat, then the Melbourne Uni final then the state final and the nationals. We already had the “Subway/Elvis” single out at the time and had toured Sydney as well so I think that helped because the judges knew us a bit.

It was kind of a weird thing to compete playing music and it all felt a bit arbitary to say one band was better than another (although some were pretty awful). Anyway I think we managed to stay relaxed about the whole thing and that helped too.

Apart from having this tag possibly dog you throughout the band’s career, were there any benefits – girls/money/studio time etc?

Winning the national final was a huge help – at the time it was the biggest competition of its kind in the Southern hemisphere. The prize was a tour of universities all over Australia, so we were able to go everywhere and offset the pub gigs with lunchtimes at unis and colleges. It also got us noticed by JJJ which had just gone national at that stage and were very keen to play bands from other states, so we became their ‘Victorian’ band. It also got us noticed by Mushroom who eventually offered us a deal although we had already self financed the record that became our debut release for them. As I recall it didn’t really help with the girls though….

Did this win dovetail into the band recording the “Subway”/”Elvis” 7″?

Actually we did the 7″ before the Campus battle of the bands. In 1989 we won a battle of the bands run by the City of Malvern (Stonnington these days). The prize was a couple of days recording at Bakehouse in Fitzroy and we recorded “Subway” and “Elvis”. I remember finishing mastering the single and walking down Brunswick St to Polyester Records. We walked in and played it to Paul Elliot who ran the shop and label and he agreed to put it out if we paid for the pressing. In retrospect I can’t believe it happened like that, it was so easy. All of a sudden we had a single and a cool indie label was putting it out for us. I remember making the record cover at a friends place, I don’t think Photoshop was around then so we just cut out bits of paper and stuck them together in a collage. It was all very naive and DIY.

What can you tell me about the decision behind recording those two tracks? Did you feel they were the most band representative and radio-friendly songs in your set at the time?

“Subway” was just the best song we had at the time and we did “Elvis” because it was favourite to play live. “Elvis” orginally had a totally different arrangement (kind of average white boy funk, dear god!) but a friend of ours, Ben, had been playing it solo and worked out the new arrangement so we borrowed that and the song became much better.

Lyrically both songs came from the same place, teenage angst about girls. Subway was about a real railway underpass in Melbourne (its called the Degraves St Underpass) that I used to walk through and thought was really cool. Since then its become even cooler with some great left of centre shops there including one called Sticky that only sells fanzines. I used to see girls down there that I thought were awesome and lust after them. “Elvis” was about me jokingly accepting that my girlfriend of the time loved him more than me.

Subway Girl by Helvelln

I guess they’re more or less a thing of the past, now that most bands tend to duke it out over the internet, but it seems the moral of the Helvelln story is never underestimate the power of a battle of the bands?

Hell yeah, even though the idea of bands fighting it out and being judged kind of appalls me, band competitions really worked out well for us. At the time it was one of the only ways for bands with no profile to get noticed.

So a quick timeline of the band would be formed in 1988, released “Subway” 7″ in 1989, won National Campus Band Competition in 1990, and then released your self-titled debut in 1992 (with many a trip up and down the Hume inbetween). You mentioned that you self-financed the recording of your debut prior to Mushroom’s involvement. From the DIY beginnings of the 7″, did you have aspirations to avoid major label trappings?

No, we weren’t trying to avoid them, we just didn’t believe major labels would ever be interested in us. Our aspriations were very low, I think we really just enjoyed making noise.

Also at the time the indie stations PBS and RRR were huge in Melbourne and if you made a record you could get enough the airplay to keep a band going. The DIY thing was just what everyone we knew was doing so thats what we did as well.

With the amount of radio play that “Subway” got, what made you go with Mushroom, and what were the terms of Mushroom’s involvement with the band? The album was released on their alternative “White Label” imprint and had some marketing campaign around it that reduced the price of the album as in incentive to purchase.

At the time Mushroom had a really good A and R guy called Bill Page and we got on well with him and he seemed to get where we were coming from.

Beyond that, they were the only label interested in us. To their credit Mushroom had a policy of signing lots of local bands back then. Some of them would work and they’d write the others off on tax. The year we got signed they also picked up Frente and Have a Nice Day. They didn’t spend a lot of money on the bands but just took a small punt in the hope that one might take off.

Given the album was already made they really didn’t have much involvement in the music part. They did get a ‘name’ photographer Polly Borland for the cover, she’d had stuff in The Face which was super cool back then.

They also found a great video director called Clayton Jacobson who went on to have a hit film called Kenny (its about a guy who hires out portaloos, apparently its fun) who did us a low budget clip to show off his stuff to Mushroom.

Most bands tend to get their live set down on record when it comes to recording their first album. Given that it was paid for on your dime and you weren’t there to muck around, was this the case with Helvelln?

Yeah just did the stuff we had been playing. No writing in the studio or experimentation. The place we were recording at (Sing Sing) in Melbourne was pretty expensive anyway so there wasn’t much time to fool around.

As debut albums go, for Australian bands in the early 90′s (god, there was a lot of innocuous shit about — The Sharp, Things Of Stone And Wood, etc), it had at least one thing going for it — a solid side 1. The first half dozen tracks are some classic 3-piece rock/pop — strong hooks, great melodies, just perfect, catchy radio tunes.

Although we didn’t plan on being a three piece (people just kept leaving the band until thats all that was left) the three piece line up has a lot of advantages sonically. No one has to compete for space in the mix and you can overplay all you want. Once you bring in a second guitar or a keyboard suddenly theres competition for space and you have to think a lot more about everything, the sounds, parts, arrangements, etc.

Given your penchance for other classic 3-piece acts like Violent Femmes and The Jam who made equally memorable debut albums (hmm, less so The Jam…), did the album live up to your youthful aspirations? What were some of your memories of making the record?

It was great to wake up in the morning and think, ‘Wow, I’m going to the studio to record’. We were in our early 20′s and really living the rock dream. There was no pressure on us either ‘cos we didn’t have a deal and really only wanted to get our stuff played on RRR. So my memories are that it was really fun and great to be in a studio with a decent recording room and gear.

A lot of the songs seem to be about, or involve, girls…. (“Subway”, “T-Shirt”, “Cigarettes & Beer”, “Elvis”, “Cruelest Plague”). They always make for great subject material or inspiration, no?

Yeah, like I said, I was in my early 20s and didn’t have a lot else on my mind. I don’t think you could call me a deep thinking kind of songwriter at that time. I was involved in a fairly tumultuous relationship as well and every time we’d have an argument I’d write a new song.

Click here for part 2 of Secret History of Australian Music – Helvelln

Part 2 of our Secret History of Australian Music retrospective on Helvelln and interview with guitarist/vocalist and songwriter Jeremy Gronow. For part 1 and a more considered introduction, go here.

Bedroom critic that I am, I’d be amiss not to suggest that only thing that lets Side 1 down is the lugubrious “Temptation”. If I had my way, I would’ve swapped it for “Subway” and barn-stormed Side 2 with “Cigarettes And Beer”. Though Side 2 seems to be weighed down by the less up-front rock-y numbers. It’s hard to believe that the critical response would’ve been anything less than positive, but was this the case?

Yes, I think you’re right there. “Temptation”, yeah, I reckon it went down better live but we didn’t have the chops to pull it off on record.

The other one that makes me cringe is the pseudo funk of “Crown of Thorns”. One of the problems we had with that record was because of the limited time and money we didn’t have any spare songs we could use – so everything we did went on the record. A few other options would have been good.

As far as critics go, I can’t remember how it was received but we were getting strong airplay on JJJ and the program director there Mark (forgotten his surname) really liked us as well. So the record reviews weren’t really important to us.

Cruelest Plague by Helvelln

You released one single from the album with “Cruelest Plague”, which didn’t seem to do you many favours. It wasn’t the strongest track on the album, nor did it have an inviting title (but hey, it got played on Neighbours!). Was this your idea/their idea?

God, I can’t remember, it was probably the record company’s idea. I guess we were young and not in a position to stand up to the record company – they were the experts and we were the dumb arse musicians. Also it took a long time to get the contract finally signed after they first offered it to us and I think we were grateful to have anything come out.

It did get hammered on Neighbours which meant great publishing royalties since at the time they were showing Neighbours twice a day in England (revenge for On the Busses, I reckon!).

Record companies can be prety literal in their approach. I remember meeting one of Mushroom’s (or maybe their distributor Festival) sales reps in Brisbane and this guy had been wracking his brain for a gimmick to push Cruelest along. Bless him for being enthusiastic but he came up with the idea of sending test tubes filled with green slime labelled ‘Cruelest Plague’ around to radio and so forth like it was dose of anthrax – probably not the best way to have the band remembered.

Many of the tracks on that album still stand up today, and you can’t get any more “Oz Rock” than “Cigarettes & Beer” and that great opening line — “I don’t know what you see in her/she’s always taking about nothing”. Why on earth wasn’t this released as a single? Or “T-Shirt” or “Crystal”? I’m amazed that (again, if my memory is playing tricks, excuse me) no other singles were released from the album when all three seemed to capture the raw pub-rock/pop vibe of the band perfectly.

What a nice thing to say. I reckon what happened was that the A and R guy who signed us to Mushroom left a few months after the record was released and we didn’t have anyone there championing our cause or pushing for more singles. I always thought we really were much more of a rock band than Cruelest or Subway suggested. Mind you, at the time we were also doing a spoof version of Wake me Up Before You Go Go (as a waltz) so you can draw your own conclusions……

Cigarettes And Beer by Helvelln

My last recollection of the band was your national tour with Frente and Archie Roach (late 1992?). During the Sydney show at the Annandale Hotel, word went round Archie was unable to perform so Helvelln had to play an extended set which was heavily weighted in new material. Presumingly this would’ve appeared on your second album….. which never happened. Was the album recorded? Did Mushroom pull the plug? Is there a complicated story here or a rather simple one?

Oh yeah, this is where the Helvelln story starts going a bit tragic. We got 75% of the way through recording our second album when Mushroom shelved it.

What happened was that the guy who signed us, Bill Page, left the company. The guys that took over from him in A &R didn’t have a stake in the band and didn’t get what we were about. I remember one of them giving me a copy of KD Lang’s Ingenue and telling me this was how our record should sound. It remains one of my favourite records but Hevelln were never going to sound or be like KD, when i think about it now it just seems absurd. I think a lot of bands have been through this situation when they lose their champion at their label.

I remember these two guys came to the studio to listen to what we had done and seemed to like it at the time but the next morning word came through that we were to stop recording. They didn’t like the feel of the songs (particularly the drums) and they didn’t hear a hit song. I was totally devasted, I had put an enormous amount of work into the record. I lost all confidence in myself and I felt lost.

We had also spent a lot of the recording budget already ($30K). Part of the problem I think was that our manager was also the manager of the studio we were using as well as producing the record. To us at the time it seemed like a really convenient way to go but there is an obvious conflict of interests although there was no malice intended. If you think about the roles a band manager, studio manager and producer are supposed to play then you can see how it would be impossible to serve all three masters well.

But it didn’t end there. We picked ourselves up and began intensive rehearsals to work on new material and ‘fix’ the problem with the feel of our songs.

Some good stuff happened during this period, Mushroom organised for me to do some writing with Paul Kelly. He was incredibly generous with his time and taught me a lot about how a craftsman goes about writing a song*. After a while it became apparent that Mushroom had a problem with our drummer Nick. Interestingly, one of the A & R guys who shelved us was making moves on Nick’s girlfriend at the time but I don’t know if that was a part of their opinions, seems like a pretty mean thing to do if it was.

This was a big problem for me. We were under pressure to sack a band member and for a three piece that can be pretty difficult. We were friends and it was an incredibly difficult decision to make. Also I was tired of having to be the main songwrtier and front man, I was feeling pretty isolated both on and off stage. So my solution to both problems was to turn Helvelln into a seven piece band with Nick playing percussion and a new drummer installed.

I think it was my way of dodging the issue. I was only 22 at the time and not really equipped to understand the situation, not to mention having had my confidence totally shattered when they shelved the record.

Turning into a 7 piece was totally the wrong thing to do. We stopped being what we were and became a new thing. What we needed at the time was some good advice to stick to our guns but none was forthcoming – our manager had gone off to tour America with Archie Roach and we were young and inexperienced.

Helvelln continued to stagger on as a seven piece and Mushroom set us up with Michael Spiby from the Badloves as a producer. We did some demos with him and he was great but his own career was taking off and didn’t have the time to deal with a broken emotionally needy songwriter and band.

To their credit Mushroom did support us financially during this time paying for rehearsals and a demo but there was no-one who actually cared about the band that much. We were really lost and eventually they cut us loose. I don’t feel bitter towards them as a company at all, they took a punt on us (and many local bands at the time) and it was a great ride while it lasted.

If I could go back and talk to myself about it I would say – stay as a three piece, make the hard decisions and keep doing what you do, have faith in yourself. We really needed someone to protect and help us, we were just kids.

*Paul Kelly doesn’t piss around with songwriting. He would start with and idea and then the first line and then methodically work his way through the song in one sitting. At the time I would have an idea and then put it down and then come back to it later and generally procrastinate with the song until the original intention was long gone. Its only recently that I have realised the importance of just focussing on a song and working on it until its finished, only took 20 years to learn that lesson :)

Given that you had a lot of new songs written, were you disappointed that you never got to release a follow-up? Considering my cassette of that show is in a box on the other side of the world, can you recall much about those songs and the direction the album would’ve taken?

Yes, I was disappointed. I think it would have been a much truer representation of the band. A lot more guitars and a harder sound. I remember a fair number of the songs – some of them I kept playing in other bands. One, called “Adverse”, got recorded two of my subsequent bands. Recently, as a result of your interest and kind words in fact, I have been thinking about resurrecting a couple of others. My latest band (with Andy Pap from Helvelln) just recorded a demo of one of those old songs (“Drama Queens”) and it came out really well.

What did you do after the band broke up?

Well, I had a bit of a hard time immediately afterwards. I got glandular fever, I think largely due to the stress of the whole thing and splitting up with the girl I was seeing at the time. After that I formed a new band called Colourbomb with Andy Pap from Helvelln on bass and Carl Panuzzo from a legendary Melbourne band called the Chequerboard Blues Band on drums. We were together for about 18 months and then ran out of steam. After that I formed another band called Idiot Son that were together for about three years and made a couple of records.

Around 2002 – 03 I got totally jack of playing in bands and stopped.

I was sick of how much time (and money) you had to spend on managing a band and organising people as opposed to actually playing music. I had forgotten why I enjoyed doing it. So I quit for a while and didn’t touch a guitar for a couple of years. I went back to Uni and did a masters degree and had two kids. After a while (2007 maybe) I started playing guitar again and doing occasional gigs in weird locations. I played at a fish farm one night where the fish were actually leaping out of their pools – I’m not sure if it was to escape me or a sign of how much they were enjoying it.

From the look of things you’re back recording and playing shows as a solo artist after a considerable absence. Have you found a renewed interest in making music and performing again?

Yeah, I’m really glad to have got back into it, music is such a big part of my life and I don’t think I would have been happy without it. As I mentioned above I started off playing solo shows but recently have started another band with Andy from Helvelln and Miles who played drums in Idiot Son. Its been great just to make some noise and communicate with other people by playing music with them. When things are going well in a band you forget about what you are playing and focus on what everyone else is doing which is very zen and relaxing. I’ve been enjoying putting some work into new songs as well.

My approach these days is a lot more craftsman like- not the bolt of inspiration you have when you’re young but these days its not nearly so nerve wracking either. When I was young i used to feel like every song I wrote was my last and get quite worked up about it. With the benefit of experience you learn to relax and work through things knowing you’ll get there in the end.

What are your thoughts about Helvelln 20-odd years down the track? Are you surprised that people still remember the band?

I was really surprised that people still remember the band. Andy Pap was saying the other day that he was coming home from a gig about 1am one night when he heard “T-Shirt” on 3RRR and was blown away by how big it sounded. We were always really self deprecating about what we did at the time (I think as a bit of a defence mechanism) so its been good to think, actually we weren’t so bad. I wish we’d been more sure of ourselves back then but, as they say, the past is another country.

What’s the likely outcome of Helvelln songs appearing at one of your shows? You wouldn’t want to disappoint the old crowd, right?

There a pretty good chance I’d say but I’ll have to listen to the record to remember the songs, its been a while. I reckon “T-Shirt” would be fun to play again.

Thanks again to Jeremy Gronow for this exhaustive and informative (like holy shit, dude!) insight into the life and times of Helvelln. We were touched by the admission that our extended conversations have re-ignited a fresh creative spark and have noticed some heavy activity on Jeremy’s reverbnation page of late. If you like what you heard, or you’re an old fan of Helvelln and have been directed here instead of the top of a mountain, we insist you check out http://www.reverbnation.com/jgronow

There’s not much point in asking where Bleeding Knees Club got their name. It’s the kind of degenerate tag that you’d expect from a couple of Australian garage surf-punks, but for the innocent and curious alike the band spell it out below. If they happen to ask if you want to join their particular club, ladies just say ‘no’. Hailing from Brisbane, where every home has its own swimming pool thanks to last year’s insane floods, Alex and Jordan of Bleeding Knees Club have “won hearts and minds through a reckless live reputation and, on the recorded front, with a swag of super-catchy tunes on their debut EP Virginity“. So sayeth the press release, so sayeth we all.

Bleeding Knees Club sound like a sun-bleached surf-raised Misfits, and “Have Fun” from the Virginity EP could be a loose stumble through the Misfits “Skulls”, except for the crucial admission that these boys want to have fun, and not your skulls. It’s dumb and toe-tappingly addictive, so we’re sold. Not content to lie on the beach and count the Wavves, Alex and Jordan are dragging their bleeding knees to the UK in May for two weeks of shows including an appearance at The Great Escape Festival in Brighton. After that, it’s over to New York City to record their debut album with new BFF Dev Hynes (Lightspeed Champion and Blood Orange) as producer. And if that doesn’t impress the locals back on the Gold Coast, I don’t know what else will.

01. Who are you?

We are Alex (singer/drummer ) and Jordan (guitarist) from Bleeding Knees Club. We are from the Gold Coast, Australia, and have been playing for about a year. I had a blog named bleeding knees club, but it’s also another name for when you get head on gravel. (Apparently, so we have been told)

02. What do you sound like?

Wild Buffalo

03. What do friends say you sound like?

Wild Buffalo

04. Full-time musicians or wage slaves?

Well we both done have jobs, but I wouldn’t call our selves Musicians either. So i guess we are just unemployed guyzz

05. Current career highlight?

I think supporting Wavves on their Australian tour was a career highlight. We both used to really like their band so it was rad getting to play a few shows with them.

06. Favourite decade for music?

I reckon the 50′s, all that early rock n roll and doo wop is ripping

07. Best mood for songwriting?

I think when I’m super hungover in the morning and can’t be bothered doing anything and am probably still drunk.

08. The last song you/the band wrote?

Is about throwing rocks at cars

09. Which 3 musicians would you invite round for dinner?

50 cent (I wanna poke his bullet wound), Ty Segall (cause he’s the man ), Zooey Deschanel (cause she’s a babe)

10. Worst gig/venue ever played?

Our first show in Sydney sucked. A few “important” people came to see us play and Jordan’s guitar amp broke and all his pedal fucked up and he had to play through a bass amp the whole set. I had to sit on stage by myself for about 10 mins and tell shit jokes to the crowd while he tried to fix the amp. Worst night ever.

11. Favourite band anecdote?

Um yeah, once we went to sydney and our manager at the time was a virgin, and we were at a party and he went home with a girl and in the morning told us that he lost his V’s. So we named the album Virginity in his respects. Then like a month ago we found out he didnt even sleep with the girl and is still a virgin.

12. Five favourite albums?

1. Girls – Album
2. Modern Lovers – Modern Lovers
3. Harlem – Free Drugs
4. Black lips – Good Bad Not Evil
5. American Graffiti soundtrack

13. Your biggest rock and roll fantasy?

To have sex with Casey Donovan

14. Goals for the next 12 months?

Um, well we are going to the UK in May to play a few shows and go to Great Escape and stuff. Then we are off to New York to record our album with Lightspeed Champion and play some shows. So I guess our goals are to record a good album that people dig and hopefully get to play some festivals and stuff.

15. First time listeners, where should they start?

Um, they should just listen to our E.P Virginity over and over.

If there was ever an It Girl of the Australian indie scene, an unwanted accolade for certain, nobody could touch Geelong-born Adalita Srsen. Close to 20 years fronting guitar-noise stalwarts Magic Dirt, Adalita has played the epitome of the forceful/not-to-be-fucked-with frontwoman that underneath reveals a dedicated and highly respected artist. You don’t stick in a mid-level/cult following band for that long without the cold realisation that making and performing music is only thing you know how to do well.

Magic Dirt always appeared the perfect vehicle to carry her work, but it often gave cause to question what kind of music would Adalita make without that same support system. Appearing late last year, the Hot Air EP showed a marked reversal from the scream n’ shout of the Dirt, pursuing a stripped back approach, full of mood and texture. When Webcuts spoke with Adalita in July of 2009 about the then unfinished record, Adalita summed it up as thus — “…I want to keep it pretty minimal. I think it will be bolder in that way to just have guitar and vocals”.

Her intentions remained true with Adalita. Taking such vanguard icons like Patti Smith and PJ Harvey as an influence, Adalita has created a starkly personal and raw sounding album, full of songs that require little more than a solitary voice matched with a lone instrument to carry its message. For the balls-out (figuratively) rocker, it’s a step in an entirely new direction. In the near-7 minute opener “Hot Air”, a looped two chord riff and a simple ensnaring melody gently eases into the drifting pensive/purposeful mood of Adalita . It’s a brave move to place the second longest track first, but it shows confidence in the direction she’s taken.

It would be difficult to imagine that any artist from Melbourne hasn’t at one time been influenced by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, which would explain Adalita’s love lament “Perfection” sailing close to the Bad Seed’s own “The Ship Song”. With the arrival of violin towards the end, The Dirty Three are suddenly arrive in the mix, while offering up one of the album’s most beautiful moments. It isn’t entirely Adalita’s show alone, with Melbourne musician JP Shilo and singer-songwriter Amaya Laurcirica drafted in to add presence and texture, the latter adding her vocals to the country twang of “Good Girl”.

If you were to pair her album with any other solo artist’s debut album, it would sit more closely in style with PJ Harvey’s bleak and brittle Dry, barring the odd The Gun Club moment found in the bluesy stomp of “Jewel Thief” or in Shilo’s slide guitar on closer “Night Orchid”. Its an album not without its faults, but these would be more down with the decision to create an environment that feels so airless and heavy. Stark needn’t feel so absent of colour and light, but given the circumstances in which it was written and recorded, happy-go-lucky may have to be held over for the next album.

In complete contrast to a month ago when it was “precipitation nation” at Sunset Sounds, Brisbane’s fourth St. Jerome’s Laneway festival could’ve been subtitled “Boiling Brisvegas”. We predict that in twenty years local dermatologists will be doing a roaring trade based on the day’s UV damage. While at the same location as the previous two Laneways, in the industrial area of Fortitude Valley, the layout had been substantially rearranged since our last excursion which proved confusing initially. Unlike many festivals who fill their bills with a series of mediocre acts and a couple of heavy hitting headliners, Laneway 2011 had a remarkably consistent quality, in fact it was almost too jam packed with “must sees”, so regardless of the weather it was always destined to be a scorcher.

Rat Vs Possum are the first act to break in the Car Park Stage; a daunting task when you realize people are possibly only here so they can be shaded from the raging afternoon sun. Pint-sized Daphne Shum immediately proves to be completely engaging to watch, complimented by the bizarrely ‘80s clad Matt Kulesza. Together their vocals are backed by the ambient blips and harmonies the Melbourne band is fast becoming known for. “Animals”, a highlight of the set, sees each band member madly thrashing synchronized rhythms on their respective sets of drums. The atmosphere this creates is euphorically intense and although it’s a shame there aren’t more people around to appreciate it, it gives those who are a taste of what the band is capable of.

Beach House has the unenviable position of playing with the afternoon sun beating down on both the crowd and straight onto Victoria Legrand and Alex Scully (the touring drummer is spared). The wistful organ of “Walk in the Park” washes over the crowd, and along with Victoria’s gravelly Christie McVie like vocals, sets the tone for the rest of the Teen Dream heavy set. Legrand may have the prerequisite cool leopard style shades but with a thick white coat, possibly borrowed from Bryan Ferry, on top of a black collared shirt, I can’t help think she must be absolutely baking. Maybe ice bricks have been sewn into the seams though because Victoria maintains her cool and barely breaks into a sweat. I leave after Scully’s slide guitar during “Silver Soul” sends much needed shivers down my spine, and head for a more shaded space as for Hot House, er Beach House, it’s a case of right band, wrong time.

That’s not to say I wasn’t intending to watch The Antlers, it was always on the cards as their beautiful if slightly disturbing Hospice rates highly at Webcuts. Peter Silberman slings his guitar over his neck like an oversized necklace due to its only periodic use, instead he chooses to use his arms and hands for more important activities such as emoting (a.k.a. mincing) throughout the set. Luckily he’s got a sonorous falsetto, imagine Conor Oberst repeatedly whacked in the testicles, but it means a lot of the musical heavy lifting is left for the drummer and keyboardist who can only fill so much space. A new song is aired which places more emphasis on groove but it’s the quiet/loud histrionics of “Sylvia” (“Sylvia, get your head out of the oven” rings throughout the baking arena rather ironically) and the infectious indie-folk of “Two” that hit home. Emote away Peter but pack a bassist and extra guitarist next time perhaps.

A quick 200 metre stroll later I catch the latter half of Warpaint’s set and it’s amazing what a difference having two guitarists and a bassist makes in a large festival space. Unlike Beach House these ladies are working up a visible sweat, with the last vestiges of the afternoon sun still having an almighty kick in its tail. They’re from LA though so they’re prepared and dressed accordingly, and don’t really give a damn anyway, as each member of the group are in their own little world spending more time with their eyes closed than open. The layered guitar lines and shared vocals are compelling but it’s Jenny Lee Lindberg’s brooding bass (and hip swaying) and Stella Mozgawa’s complex drumming that prove to be the focal point. Drawing on The Fool for most of the set including a sparse “Majesty” and Exquisite Corpse‘s more rousing “Elephants” to end, their laidback ambient take on post-punk is beguiling but I’m left wishing I’d was seeing them in a club with great lighting design. Oh, and air conditioning, that’d be nice too.

Group consensus is to ditch Blonde Redhead to see Ariel Pink, mainly due to the Redhead’s last album Penny Sparkle being widely panned but I dissent, having never seen the band in concert, and the gamble pays off from the get-go. Blonde Redhead, along with Les Savy Fav are the elder statesmen/women of the festival, having been at this for close to twenty years and they’ve honed their live performance to a fine art. Retina burning lighting, and the most expansive sound of the festival with the three piece New Yorkers augmented by a bassist and keyboardist, they hit all the right buttons. Even the two songs from Penny Sparkle which bookend the set are beefed up and sound better than on record. It’s the songs from 23 and Misery is a Butterfly though, such as the trance like “Dr Strangluv”, the reedy “Falling Man”, and aptly titled “Melody” which has co-lead vocalist Kazu Makino and the audience shaking their bodies in rapture.

Over on the Car Park Stage watching Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti is like the adult version of the Emperor’s New Clothes. A sizeable crowd has accumulated to watch the abomination of a waste of a tea time slot. Ariel Pink are the epitome of scenester cool, the new kooky band that you must love somehow ‘cause they’re doing something different. What they actually give us is their lesson in how simply dressing up and acting a little craaazy should be enough. Sadly it’s not. The tunes feel like unfinished jams, recorded at an acid peak before the comedown realisation, forgetting that time signatures and singing in tune are sometimes a good idea. If they were an art installation it would be understandable but really I just wander off bored and uninterested.

If I told you the highlight of the day was watching a chubby bald man wandering through a crowd wearing only tiny jean shorts and pink tights, while painted silver and singing noise rock in people’s faces you would be within your rights for wondering what the fuck happened. Well Les Savy Fav and frontman Tim Harrington happened. Never have a band been more apt for a festival than this Brooklyn five piece. The band consist simply of blistering indie rock punctuated by Harrington’s at times barely audible vocals, but that’s understandable because he’s busy multi-tasking as he climbs poles and rummages in his props bag for his next low rent fix. The set is mostly drawn from recent album Root for Ruin, although “Patty Lee”, “What Would Wolves Do?” and the rather appropriate “Let the Sweat Descend” also get an airing. Even without the on and off stage antics the band sound great but while they play the tightest of concerts, never dropping a beat, you are left transfixed by Harrington for what he’s going to do next. Ending the set hoisted aloft on a crowd barrier like an indie messiah, while screaming “Let’s Get Out of Here!”, Les Savy Fav leave us with the biggest grin and for half the crowd silver hand prints on random body parts to wear for the rest of the evening.

Popping out of the Inner Sanctum, yeah it’s a stage name, to grab a drink and some food it’s time to kick back and catch some of Cloud Control. On the day’s smallest stage and down a side street from the rest of the action the place is packed, and unsurprisingly so. Hailed by some as Australia’s next big thing Cloud Control don’t disappoint. Their blissed out folk rock is the perfect foil to the indie and electronica elsewhere on the bill. They have everyone eating out of the palm of their hand and look completely assured for a band who has only recently released their debut. Who’ll take bets next year they are higher up on the bill?

You will perhaps remember that Foals snuck into this year’s Triple J hottest 100 at number 98. This low position doesn’t seem to correlate at all with the amount of crowd buzz before they take to the Alexandria Street stage. As soon as the first chord is struck, the lush and distinctive sound of Foals’ guitar effects cut through the wash of red lights and fog, all the while frontman Yannis Philippakis struts about the stage to spur the crowd on. Tracks from their debut Antidotes, “Olympic Airways” and “Cassius”, are instantly recognizable and serve to generate a solid response and momentum amongst the audience. The expectation for “Spanish Sahara” is high, the negative space of its opening filled with chants to the lyric “it’s future rust and then it’s future dust”, only for the song to later swell to its zenith with Philippakis’ vocals erupting against Jack Bevan’s thunderous drum backing. At the close of the Foals set there is a mass departure through the adjacent exit gates despite there still being several bands to come, proving that at least for some, Foals would’ve been a worthy headliner for Laneway 2011.

Heading back in the Inner Sanctum, Canada’s Holy Fuck show that with electronica you don’t necessarily need expensive visuals to keep a crowd interested. Stripped down to simply a drummer, bass player and two guys on every weird and wonderful electronic instrument you can think of, and some you haven’t, Holy Fuck play like a proper live band should. Leaving a trail of fuzzy bass and feedback their scatterbrain noise seems almost discordant at times but considering their name is unsurprisingly apt. Machine gun drums go off and is joined by complex soundscapes from keyboards that resemble kids toys. Whatever, it sounds great. The energy given off by these guys is intense and half way through the set even the most cynical watchers near me have been won over. It’s not supposed to be pretty but they show that even the most experimental of music can be danceable. Heck even Tim Harrington is pulling shapes in front of me.

Ending the day with Cut Copy seems like a bit of a letdown. Recently released album Zonoscope seems to be well received from a mini straw poll of three people we speak to, but translating this to a headlining slot may take some work. Confession time: I’ve never been the most overt fan of the band, but they are an Australian headliner at an Australian festival which is increasingly rare these days so deserve some support. Unfortunately they come across like a danceable Coldplay, a bit too safe and bland. If Cut Copy were a colour they would definitely be beige and neutral, like Switzerland. Not that there is anything necessarily wrong with that per se but what I want from music is something that will kick me up the arse, make me take notice, change my mood, lose my pants… you get the picture. From the cheesy lit up door they walk through to come on stage, to the hackneyed pub singer hand gestures of frontman Dan Whitford it does seem like they have put a lot of thought into their performance, it’s just when it comes down to it their music just doesn’t cut it. They tell us it’s the first night of their world tour. Hopefully by the next time they roll round the show will be a bit more risqué and the setlist more compelling.

It’s nearing midnight and while it’s cooled down the humidity clings to us like silver paint so we trudge through the gates, past the irritated police officers trying to control the thousands of jaywalkers (hey, good luck with that officers) and reflect on the indie dream bill of the day and come to the only logical conclusion that for Laneway next year Les Savy Fav have to headline. And the year after that and the year after that…

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Text: Lee Gwyn (Rat Vs Possum, Foals), Garry Thompson (Ariel Pink, Les Savy Fav, Cloud Control, Holy Fuck, Cut Copy), Caleb Rudd (All others)

Photos: Lee Gwyn

The bait and switch. It’s a classic ploy where you advertise one product but deliver another. Cut Copy have employed a version of this for their third long player Zonoscope baiting us with two singles that aren’t representative of the album as a whole. Released mid 2010 “Where I’m Going” indicated the band were going for a straight ahead indie pop direction, somewhere between The Kinks and The Chills, full as it was of twangy riffs, a big sing-a-long chorus and a simple companionship theme. Then later that year “Take Me Over”, with its “Down Under” thieving bass and percussion, was a daft(punk) summer pop song. The remainder of Zonoscope is for the most part the most dance-centric Cut Copy has been since their sampledelic debut EP one decade ago.

Before people take issue with the Department of Consumer Affairs citing a breach in the Trade Practices Act we should examine what the switch has left us with. Current single and album opener “Need You Now” is an atypical Cut Copy track, a six minute slow burn epic that rewards repeated listens with lead singer/songwriter/producer Dan Whitford delivering a strong vocal. “Pharaohs & Pyramids” begins a batch of songs that combine tribal house with synth pop with mixed results also starting a half baked Egyptian-cum-apocalyptic thread, begun with the fantastical cover art.

“This is All We’ve Got” (the album’s original title perhaps?) is slice of catchy rock, mining Phil Spector’s wall of sound production and “Leader of the Pack”’s drum pattern while “Alisa” combines inventive guitar lines with twinkling keyboards and a huge string soaked chorus, a strong candidate for the next single. As good as they are, both are hampered from having Whitford’s vocals buried in the mix, perhaps to disguise the “written on the back of a postage stamp” lines, as while Whitford is a compelling melodicist he’s a lousy lyricist. Songwriters like Martin Gore, Neil Tennant and Vince Clarke showed they could have the depth of any rock poet. Dan was obviously too busy cribbing their synth lines to also study their lyric sheets.

This vacuousness reaches a nadir on fifteen minute album closer “Sun God” which essentially boils down to “Please, please, please won’t you give your love/Are you going to me your love?/Your love won’t be enough” in the verse and then a shouted “You’ve got to live!/You’ve got to die!/So what’s the purpose of you and I?” in the chorus. Again musically its pretty good at least for the first seven minutes before getting lost in its own epic house arse. Thus in essence Zonoscope is a missed opportunity. The moments of brilliance are hampered by mixed production, terrible lyrics, schizophrenic songs styles and a nonsensical overall theme. Whatever side of the indie-dance camp Cut Copy want to plant themselves in, even if it’s on the fence, some semblance of care and thought into those tenants of a pop album would be appreciated next time, lest we really do contact Consumer Affairs Victoria.

H²0 is essential for most life on the planet. Humans are comprised of around 60% water while the Earth’s surface consists of 71%. For the third Sunset Sounds festival in Brisbane that seemed to edge up to the 90th percentile. Water and its offspring mud was totally and utterly inescapable. It came down in sheets, hell it came down in slabs. Even those who came with waterproof clothing were completely soaked not just to the bone but to the very marrow. Sunset Sounds became Sunless Sounds, Soggy Sounds and Mudset Sounds. It brought out the worst in some people and the best in others. Still the show went on with artists, organisers, workers and observers alike all having a role to fulfill. Let us begin ours:

Day One – 5 Jan 2011

The prospect of noise pop darlings Sleigh Bells performing in daylight on a main stage (the unfortunately named Riverstage) doesn’t seem to affect them much. If we were looking at effort Sleigh Bells would win band of the day. Unfortunately with Alexis Krauss’s vocals are way down in the mix, it’s actually all pretty muddy sounding. Trying to crane to hear it’s not apparent where the backing track ends and the live music starts. Admittedly the kids down the front lap it up like parched dogs but it is the fuzzed out guitars that rasp so much on record that completely sail over this hill I’m standing on. In a sweaty tent they would raise the roof but here they simply don’t deliver.

One of the biggest crowds of the day greets Cold War Kids and it’s no surprise when they rip through a set mostly lifted from debut Robbers and Cowards. The band are tighter than a ducks proverbial and don’t miss a beat for their entire set, even when the clouds that have threatened so far decide to begin to do their worst. As a definition of ironic, when the worsening weather changes from a damp shower to torrential rain, it had to be during “Hang Me Up to Dry”. No one seems to mind though and to be honest it seems to galvanise the crowd more resulting in the obligatory festival sign a long to “We Used to Vacation”.

Meanwhile at the opposite side of grounds, New Zealand’s blandest export Pip Brown a.k.a. Ladyhawke takes flight. The “difficult second album” cliché is proving true as her second LP that ditches the synths for more guitar is just starting to be recorded some two years and a half years after her debut. The new songs on offer today lend credence to Brown’s claim of a new direction but replacing derivative electro-pop with by the numbers rawk’n'roll isn’t a step forward as such and the crowd award them the cool reception they deserve. The singles are received more positively but when confronted with band and crowd chanting the words I quickly realise how utterly banal the lyrics to “Back of the Van” and “Paris is burning” actually are. “My Delirium” is the only redeeming song of the set, and indeed her career, but it’s not enough for Pip to soar. Ladyhawke? More like Ladysquawk.

After a break The National take to the same stage to not only a rapturous welcome but to a crowd packing in every inch of available space. From the outset it’s clear that the band is playing no ordinary phone-it-in festival set. It’s a home crowd to these guys and the energy and passion from the band are plain to see. Matt Berninger looks emotional at points especially during “Squalor Victoria”, and the addition of a horn section only adds to the mood. While the beginning of their set relies heavily on songs from last year’s High Violet, “Abel” and “Mr November” are just as well received. No one seems to care that what was once torrential rain has now ramped it up a notch to whatever adjective comes next. Berninger certainly doesn’t as he steps off stage and walks through the crowd for “Terrible Love”, leading a chorus of fans that join in to every word. It’s a fantastic set and I can’t help wondering why they were not headlining.

After such a cracking set we head on over to catch what’s left of Public Enemy’s set, promoted as a 20 year anniversary of Fear of a Black Planet, just in time for “Fight The Power”. It’s all a bit cabaret and becomes impossible to listen to the tail end  while dodging the increasing numbers of idiots sliding down the Riverstage hill in the mud. When Flava Flav ends their set with a five minute discourse on how we can all help to rid the world of racism and separatism it seems apt that even in the worsening weather no one seems to move a muscle until he’s finished.

So then it’s left for Interpol, New York’s premier proponents of gloomy introspective rock, to lift the dampened spirits of festival goers. Still the rain, which hasn’t abated, might actually enhance the mood and it’s amazing to see the number of punters that have chosen to remain but then the impact of Interpol’s first two albums on the Gen Ys who make up the majority of the crowd, not yet born when the likes of Wire, Gang of Four and The Chameleons first emerged, can’t be underestimated. Interpol of course aren’t naive to their legacy so base the set heavily around those albums and Antics in particular. And who can blame them with epics like “Evil”, “C’Mere”, “Say Hello To The Angels”, and particularly “Take Me On A Cruise” (another song of huge ironic value) sounding expansive and thrilling. The new album is milked for its stronger tracks including the delay pedal switched to overdrive opener “Success”, the heavenly reverb of “Lights” and the paranoia inducing “Memory Serves”.  Throughout Paul Banks stands stoically in his Brokeback check shirt and mullet and Daniel Kessler glides around the stage like a guitar wielding elf. New bass recruit David Pajo can’t match Carlos Dengler’s stage presence but close your eyes and you can’t tell the difference. Interpol may have nothing left to prove but do they want to be the post-punk revival Oasis, forever relying on the strength of their first two albums? If not, album five better be a blinder. With the throbs of set closer “Not Even Jail” still echoing we make our way up the hill in an attempt to get out of the slippery slope lest it becomes our own jail and find a taxi driver who will pick a water logged festival reviewer up.

Day Two  – 6 Jan 2011

For most of today the rain eases to little more than a drizzle, praise the heavens, but the moisture of yesterday has made the grounds into a field of mud and mini lakes of foul looking water. I momentarily flashback to Glastonbury 1998 but soldier on valiantly in the Somme-like trenches.

At the Garden stage The Soft Pack has few surprises in store; they ply their fare of solid garage rock which is pretty faithful to their recorded versions. “C’mon”, “More or Less” and especially closer “Answer to Yourself” are three minutes gems with the right mix of riffs, melody, vocal harmonies and aggression. Despite originating from San Diego, I hear Australian garage acts of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s such as The Screaming Tribesmen and Radio Birdmen in The Soft Pack’s sound which isn’t a bad thing at all.

Later on the same stage Peaches performs a DJ set and while I’d have preferred the full she-bang I figure the Peaches concert experience is 80% spectacle and 20% musicianship at the best of times anyway. Scant regard is given to whatever tinnitus inducing 2011 version of electroclash she actually is playing, instead all eyes are on her and in particular her multi-breasted — as in rubber breasts — suit. She’s stands behind an ominous sci-fi style mixing console and remains reasonably static instead letting her two leather clad dancers, one of either gender, to gyrate and strip for visual appeal. While it’s cheaper than a visit to Love & Rockets (the Brisbane strip club, not the band) it’s not easy being sleazy at this hour of the day and my attention drifts to the crowd getting down and dirty in the mud instead.

After observing various mud slinging and mud bathing by punters in-between sets the The Morning Benders’ euphoric pop is the perfect prescription. The band is appreciative of the audience turnout for their final show of their first tour here as the constantly beaming face of Chris Chu attests. A cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” is welcome for many reasons including its punchy rhythm, Chu’s capability of hitting the same key that Stevie Nicks once did and its appropriate lyrical content (“When the rain washes you clean you’ll know” – oh yeah, I knew). It’s the bouncy, hand clap friendly single “All Day Day Light” and sing-a-long closer “Excuses” which ends with Orr on his knees singing at the top of his lungs sans-microphone that brings home how much The Benders put into their show. As if by magic soon after Chris finishes an actual sunset is glimpsed at the top of the hill, or was it a dream?

With the ultra violet interlude just a memory I catch the end of Washington’s tenure along with seemingly everyone else who braved the festival today. The local singer gone over to the big leagues has divided critics over the question of which side of the indie/pop divide she falls on but the people are voting with their feet and crowd and performer are loving every second of it. A cover of “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” that segues into one of her piano powered anthems is somewhat obvious but that along with a version of The Divinyls’ ode to onanism “I Touch Myself” which has the multitudes in a lather.

It’s tempting to categorise Sweden’s Junip as merely acoustic troubadour José González with a full band to flesh out his sound. It’s also pretty much on the money. This is not altogether a bad thing though as the problems of González solo, namely his distinctive but narrow vocal range and repetitious tempo are mostly negated with Junip. Abetted by band mates Elias Araya on drums and the seemingly octo-handed Tobias Winterkorn on keys there is also an additional percussionist/multi-instrumentalist and bassist. As a five piece Junip create a plethora of textures and enough rhythmic diversity to combat any folk fatigue. In fact so easy it is to get lost in the vortex of sound it’s with some effort I pull myself away…

…and end the festival with Melbourne icon/legend/singer-songwriter stalwart Sir Paul Kelly. I first discovered “Dumb Things” in the late ’80s after it appeared in Yahoo Serious, a song which could have served as my soundtrack in the years since, but never have I seen the man in concert. “Careless”, “Before too Long” and “To Her Door” are universal stories that transcend eras or locations underpinned by sharp melodies that resonant just as much now as they did twenty years ago. Suited and booted the man cuts a lean figure and he has the smarts to surround himself with a seasoned band that includes Vicki and Linda Bull on backing vocals and Even’s Ashley Naylor on guitar. There are a few lulls, specifically when one of the Bulls sings the Raymond Carver inspired ballad “Everything’s Turning to White”, but the Kelly takes back the reigns for a snarling “Sweet Guy” and it’s with some regret I leave, rather appropriately, during “Deeper Water”.

Exhausted but elated at the same I trudge home to a hot shower and wondering how the hell I’ll get the mud off my shoes. Of course the rain continued long after Sunset Sounds ended. Less than a week later there would be mass flooding in Brisbane and the already sodden grounds would be totally engulfed by water. Any complaints of too much rain at the Sunset Sounds are now seen as petty in the scheme of things as I realise how lucky we got to see the festival at all. Just next year I’ll be praying for a little more sun to go with the sounds.

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Words: Garry Thompson (Sleigh Bells, Cold War Kids, The National, Public Enemy). Caleb Rudd (all others).

Photos: Caleb Rudd except Interpol: Lee Gwyn and Public Enemy (Slideshow): Matt Palmer

Forever a woman with a spring in her step and new projects falling in her wake, goth-cabaret performer/singer-songwriter Amanda Palmer has put down her ukelele and set her gaze on Australia and New Zealand for her newly released single “Map Of Tasmania”, to coincide with her forthcoming tour and Australia-themed album Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under.

For those of you wondering ‘What’s the big deal about a map of Tasmania’? Well, if you have to ask, we’re not going to tell you. If you’re an eagle-eyed fan, chances are you’ve seen it already. Just don’t ask any Australian woman or you’ll end up with a smack in the mouth. Or maybe you’ll get lucky. Australian women… go figure.

It seems an interview we conducted with the newly married Mrs Palmer-Gaiman is great link bait, so here fishy fishy… Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under is due for release January 21 through Liberator Music in Australia and her website.

Feel free to dip into Amanda Palmer’s pubic hair-affirming “Map Of Tasmania” below (sample lyric “I say grow that shit like a jungle”) while perusing the tracklisting and Australia/New Zealand tour dates… and oh my god, screw the Nick Cave track, has she seriously covered the Vegemite song?

There would be little point in Magic Dirt frontwoman Adalita Srsen repositioning herself as the Suzi Quattro of Australian Rock on her first solo release, when in essence she’d already achieved that with Magic Dirt. Appearing late last year, the Hot Air EP showed a marked reversal from the scream n’ shout of the Dirt, pursuing a stripped back approach, full of mood and texture. Webcuts spoke with Adalita in July of 2009 about the then unfinished record — “…I want to keep it pretty minimal. I think it will be bolder in that way to just have guitar and vocals”. About “Hot Air”, she explained “… was the first song I wrote for the solo album. It really just came out of the blue. I had a loop going of two simple guitar chords and then laid down a melodic refrain over the top. The words came from a poem I wrote a long time ago. I like the wistful nature of this song”. So do we. Adalita’s self-titled album is due in early 2011 on Liberation Music.

I first glimpsed Lion Island by accident, walking back from a weekend Uni exam, not exactly in the best of spirits, where they were playing a free show in Brisbane’s King George Square. Their ability to fill a large stage with eight members and the cavernous square full of wondrous music bolstered my mood and had casual passerby’s on their way to the train, stop and listen. When seen again three months later at The Hi-Fi Bar my admiration for the band was affirmed and proved that Lion Island are one of Brisbane’s most ambitious and talented acts.

Here are a band capable of solo singer-songwriter mode, resembling a Brisbane Beirut by adding brass and violin to the acoustic guitar and drums to finally expanding for epic orchestral rock, as if Finn Andrews was fronting The National. Emotive and soaring, delicate and full of warmth its music based around the songwriting prowess and considered lyrics of Matthew Vale. While Matthew has already released the solo album Long Drive Lion Island have only one EP to their name. This should be joined by a long player in 2011 that hopefully manages to capture the elegance of Vale’s songs while incorporating the richness that the poly-instrumental band brings to their live shows.

01. Who are you?

Matthew Vale, lead singer and songwriter for Lion Island. I also write songs for my solo project under my own name.

02. What do you sound like?

When I approach writing songs for Lion Island, the instrumentation is a big influence to how the song turns out. We have trumpet, violin, electric guitars, acoustic guitars, bass and drums, so more often than not the Lion Island sound is big and complex but it revolves around simple catchy grooves. We sound like Neil Young meets Jeff Buckley covered by Delta Spirit sung by Paul Simon.

03. What do friends say you sound like?

Friends used to say that we sounded like Beirut, then they said we sounded more indie, like Arcade Fire, and a reviewer recently suggested that I must have the The Veils on repeat.. (I had never heard of them).

[I think we're more like Cold War Kids or even a bit of Coldplay with a pinch of folk. But honestly I think if there's a way to get the essence of all these bands and mix them all together, then that's what we are.]

04. Full-time musicians or wage slaves?

A bit of both! We work full time at our music every week, but rather than divvying up the proceeds to pay the rent, we’re putting the cash towards bigger and better things like recording our next album.

05. Current band highlight?

Probably playing the song “Black Cab” with Jens Lekman when he came to Brisbane. I remember playing covers of that song 2 or 3 years ago, and then I was privileged to play it with the man himself on stage.

06. Favourite decade for music?

Hmmm… that’s a tough one. I really dig the 1920s for rhythm and blues. And I’m also heavily influenced by the ’60s when bands like The Beatles and The Stones and The Doors were coming into the light. But then the ’80s had stuff like The Cure’s Disintegration and Paul Simon’s Graceland and The Smiths. I think right now in my life I’d have to say (surprisingly) the ’80s.

07. Should music be free?

I think it should absolutely be free to listen to music. I think it there should absolutely be a fee to keep music.

08. Which 3 musicians would you invite round for dinner?

Robert Smith, Jeff Buckley and Chris Martin

09. Preferred tour reading?

Anything fantasy. Sean Williams Books of the Cataclysm or Terry Brooks.

10. Best mood for songwriting?

Hmmm… either deep melancholy or over-the-top Happiness.

11. Last record you bought?

The Best of Van Morrison

12. Five favourite albums?

The Cure – Disintegration
Paul Simon – Graceland
Van Morrison – Best of Van Morrison
Delta Spirit – Ode to Sunshine
Jeff Buckley – Grace

(not in any particular order)

13. Your biggest rock and roll fantasy?

To play at Japan’s Saitama Super Arena for like a million billion people.

14. Goals for the next 12 months?

Release our first full length album. Do an East Coast tour, write some golden new material. Have a cuppa coffee.

15. First time listeners, where should they start?

Start by coming to see us at our February residency at the Brisbane Powerhouse!

http://www.myspace.com/lionisland