Scott Wilson: So you guys just doing this gig and getting out of here?

Angus Stuart: Yeah, we get done here and then hop on an airplane straight to LA for another festival.

Luke Dubber: We’re pretty busy, but it’s fun.

SW: When you guys are composing music, how important are space and place?

AS: Um, we have a recording studio that’s pretty nice, and everything’s patched in and ready to record so if we have any ideas we can just hit the record button and keep going. Having everything set up like that helps the creative process because you can just go. But I also am down to do what I need to do. We do a lot of work on planes.

SW: So then has technology made a big difference in this process?

LD: One of the biggest impacts, technology-wise, has been playing live shows. We used to play off the tape, of DAT tape.

AS: I don’t think we could even afford laptops when we started.

LD: We had this old micro DAT tape we bought for like fifty bucks and we’d just hit play at shows. Then we’d press pause and be like, “Hey thanks for that, here’s another” and press play again. If we wanted to skip a song Angus would have to fast forward and I’d talk to the crowd.

SW: Do you ever go retro and play with the old machines? 

Luke: Not for live no, but we definitely have all the old synths.

AS: For sure, we love playing around in the studio. We’ve got a pretty decent analog synth collection. That’s where we get a lot of our sounds from, I guess.

SW: I’ve noticed a big surge of southern down under groups in North America: Chet Faker, UV Race, Broods… Have you had a good reception up here?

AS: Yeah, yeah definitely. The Australian sound is really recognized and it’s really gratifying to hear that. It’s really cool and cool to be a part of.

SW: Is there an Australian aesthetic you subscribe to?

LD: I think there is a definite sound. Especially in Australia, if feel there is something original there. We’ve kind of been doing our thing for a minute so we do get in with that but we’ve just been floating around on the peripheral. Australia’s always had a good electronic scene.

SW: You have two very distinct aesthetics: a dark, clubby, grindy type of noise and a lighter, bouncier side. Which do you think works best in a festival like Lollapalooza?

AS: I think they both work.

LD: Yeah, in our live shows we like to build people up and bring them down, and kind of react to how the crowd is feeling.  Part of doing a live performance is giving someone a cool show and having those juxtapositions of pushing and pulling the crowd.

AS: We grew up playing together in a band in our home town, and we’ve always been very conscious of making sure people had a good time. When the song goes, people tend to get a little spastic in whatever kind of dance they choose.

SW: How do you know when a song is done? Or do they ever get done?

LD: The deadline sort of chooses it for us. We listen to a song one last time and if we both agree then it’s good. Some songs give us a hard time, and it’s like the artist who can’t stop from one last brush stroke, but usually we can stop.

SW: Do  the songs change much when you do them live?

AS: They’re always a bit different. That’s one of the reasons we feel people come to a live show, so that they can see something a bit different, like a little extra from the album version.

SW: What do you guys do for fun between sets and stuff?

AS: If we’re at festivals we like to watch the other shows. If we can get backstage we’ll try to take a look and see how the others are doing it. If we’re in a city we like to go to museums and stuff. The weirdest show we ever played was in a mining town called Cargill, a mining town in the middle of Australia. It was pretty much just miners and prostitutes, but we stayed in a hotel with a pool shaped like a guitar. We had a lot of weird conversations there.

SW: Well make the most of your time here in Chicago. I’d say you should stay away from miners and prostitutes, but it sounds like you know what you’re doing.

The post Hermitude defining that unique Australian sound appeared first on Quip Magazine.

But what if you don’t know a musician’s work very well? PELL is a newish act on the national level, out of New Orleans. His fan base isn’t huge yet, though his magnetic stage presence lures in passersby like sugar cubes do to wild horses. In such a situation the best thing to do, as an ensnared stranger, to find a true fan, somebody who knows all the words to all the songs, and stick by them. People like that have energy to spare and radiate it outwards. If the fans can’t infect the newcomers with fun, PELL certainly can. His call-and-response style coupled with crowd interaction and dance leadership, makes everybody feel included: “Alright y’all, move back and forth like this: left, right, left, right. You got it! Y’all are turnt up”. He ends his set with a surprise appearance by G-Eazy, and they sing in alternation to the crowd’s delight.

From above, certain shows take on the appearance of solar systems in space. Hermitude performs an entirely new, previously unrecorded set, causing the audience to erupt in dances. Following the rule of magnetic personalities and radiating energy stated above, the wildest dancers tend to be circled by other spinning bodies. There are rogues floating without a system, but they eventually get pulled into some group, and others get ejected out. At this stage, the core of the galaxy, signs and debris fly through the air, heads bob and hands fly up. Then, when PELL makes a guest appearance, the crowd goes supernova. Though the ambient temperature at Hermitude’s stage is around ninety degrees, it rises to over two-million while bodies melt into a glowing, radioactive dance orb, pulsating to the electro-bop of the Australian duo’s computers.

Please allow a moment’s digression to lament the poor, ignorant parents of the Lollapalooza teen. How unaware they must be. If only they could see the group huddled around a hot bottle of vodka, smuggled in under someone’s armpit. If only they knew what their daughter wasn’t wearing after she got out of the car that dropped her off. If only they knew what their son was saying, or what he did to provoke a fight. Such is the scene at Tyler the Creator. A serious fan would never be deterred by a few vomiting post-pubescents, but the less determined will instead visit Chet Faker. Himself an Australian, the Faker crowd possessed as many accents and languages as a UN coalition. As the lanky, bearded Aussie crooned, the audience swooned. In this environment teenage troubles melt away, and everybody in the vicinity got an automatic upgrade to become twenty-three for the duration of the set.

If Saturday’s headliner, Metallica, could be summed up in one sentence, it would be: “Go home dad, your embarrassing me in front of the metalheads!” The defining feature of that show would be the mosh pits, which ranged from delightful push-parties to flailing orgies of senseless violence. When a man is old enough to have grandkids, he shouldn’t be punching strangers in the back of the head, Metallica show or not. Nonetheless, the stage lasers were cool, and they somehow stretched the five-minute long Master of the Puppets song for a raging half-hour. It would have been a perfect show if they stuck to their pre-Black Album catalogue, but alas, they didn’t. Gimme fuel, gimme fire, gimme that which I desire: a quick death.

So long, Lollapalooza!

The post A Saturday of mixed decisions at Lollapalooza from Chet Faker to Metallica appeared first on Quip Magazine.