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News July 29, 2016

Q&A: Slowly Slowly talk anti-love anthems and cathartic payoffs

Former Editor
Q&A: Slowly Slowly talk anti-love anthems and cathartic payoffs
TMN chats to Ben Stewart, one half of Melbourne grunge-rock band Slowly Slowly about new LP Chamomile, the career pitfall he’d like to avoid and the story behindanti love anthemPMTWGR.
Tell us about the songwriting process for Chamomile. What was the creative flow like?
In terms of actual recording the flow was pretty interrupted and disjointed. We would go through stages of intense dedication and then back it off for weeks and not record anything- but for myself it was a little different. I was constantly writing or picking things apart trying to build an idea of what it was we were creating. Finishing this album has helped me learn a lot about the way I write.
Why did you call the record Chamomile?
Chamomile for me is just a loose metaphor that centres around band-aid fixes for dire situations. The title track on our album is a simple acoustic one that has had no changes from its conception to when it was recorded.
Was there one overarching narrative that informed the songwriting?
I definitely think I was focussed on producing something that felt whole as an album. I am a big fan of records like The Blue Album by Weezer, where you couldn’t imagine one song being taken away or added. I’m not saying we have created anything on par with that, but that was definitely bubbling away in the back of my mind as we plotted the track listing and order things were going to roll out. We tried to be as honest as possible.
Did you see New York Paris as a special song when you wrote it?
Yes – and sorry to be completely wanky – but it’s the only song I have ever written that felt completely finished before I even got to find it in my head.
I woke up in the front room of the share house I was living in, in Rathdowne Street in Carlton, and then reached over to my acoustic and it just kind of vomited out of me. Quickly grabbed the laptop and recorded it, still half asleep and then dozed off and forgot about it. That recording still gets passed between a few of my best friends and they prefer it to the original. Sounds made up and lame, but I can’t really explain that one.
Chamomile is eight tracks long, an unusual number for a debut LP in the digital age. Was it a conscious decision to keep a short tracklisting or was it a natural development?
The amount of songs was a completely natural development, it didn’t feel finished before we added the last song Black Confetti, even though we had about 20 more fully recorded song options that could have made the cut. I hope that when you listen to it that it says just enough without it slamming too much emotion in your face. I think people who like what we do will agree that most of our stuff isn’t very lighthearted, so the amount of music on the record is supposed to be satisfying without getting to the stages of being clawing for attention.
“I’m sober now, my head is full of dark grey clouds” is an especially powerful lyric on the album’s first singlePMTWGR. Is there an anecdote behind it?
PMTWGR is most definitely our anti love anthem. That line doesn’t so much refer to sobriety in a drunk sense, but I guess a more sobering reality check that comes after being flung back to earth post argument/relationship breakdown.
I am an extremely anxious person, the people that identify with that will agree that you get some pretty ugly thoughts that reoccur without permission. So I guess it’s centring around that and how that can shape the present tense. It’s a tongue in cheek throwaway line that provides a home to a much deeper context.
The global music industry has had a polarising reputation for decades, but what has your experience been like when dealing with the local industry?
I love the local music community in Melbourne. It has been nothing but supportive of what we do and made us feel welcome. I can’t thank it enough for how we have been received and carried the past few years.
In many ways Slowly Slowly is still in its embryonic stages in terms of commercial success. Are there any career pitfalls you’ve been warned of that you’ve taken on board?
I don’t want to ever compromise our honesty. If there aren’t any more meaningful songs in me left to write then I can assure you won’t hear any. I only write music to get that cathartic payoff – if we can have people sing along and jump around and smash some stages as a band then that is a huge bonus – but at the end of the day it all has to mean something. Without being too critical, I would say that I see that as a pothole/pitfall that claims a lot of numbers.

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