Tag: The Fauves (page 1 of 1)

Fauves are the best people!

I’ve been following the progress of Fauves are the Best People, a podcast about Mornington band the Fauves, for a couple of months now.

I was a massive fan of the band when they first started getting airplay in Australia in 1990 (and yes, I’m absolutely on a nostalgia bent right now: must be something about reaching a certain age).

The format of the podcast is intriguing, if daunting: an episode devoted to each song the band released, with special bonus episodes about individual albums (12 in total so far) and EPs. Meaning they’ll be at it for years to come.

Crucially, each episode starts with a full broadcast of the song in question, which for the early EPs the band recorded may well be their first ever digital release. Episodes also feature interviews with the band, producers, rock luminaries, snippets of onstage banter and quirky (but fascinating) analysis of the drum tracks.

The cover of "The Scissors Within", an extended play record by Melbourne rock band The Fauves from 1992.

Right now, they’re wrapping up a series of posts devoted to the first Fauves EP I bought, The Scissors Within (1992). I used to listen to these six songs constantly, wrote poems inspired by the lyrics and music, and still think it stands up today as a well-produced and atmospheric record.

Funnily enough, Jon Bampton, one of the guys who produce the podcast contacted me recently via this website (probably in response to this post about the band’s early EPs) and asked if I’d like to guest on an episode or two.

We’ve now completed hot takes of three songs the Fauves recorded for a compilation album, entitled Dress Ups (also released in 1992), which co-featured two other Melbourne-based bands: The Glory Box and Pray TV. I bought a copy of this EP when I was a student, possibly at Waterfront Records in Sydney, or else via the Fauves’ website.

Recording the three episodes was a pretty straightforward affair: Jon and I met up on Zoom; I used my own digital recorder so that we could isolate our respective audio tracks, and we spent around 20 minutes talking about the words, the music and my personal memories of seeing the band in the early 1990s.

It can be difficult to listen to one’s own voice, especially when you know a recording is going to be available to the general public. I had my fair share of cringeworthy moments in the late 1990s and early 2000s as a spoken word poet in Melbourne, so you could say I’m reasonably accustomed to the phenomenon.

The truth is, however, that I can’t even really bear to go back and listen to these episodes now. The cringe is just too much. So, I’m just going to embed the first episode here and anyone who’s interested in hearing the other two can just follow the Spotify links.

Anyway, check the podcast out if you’re into early-1990s OzRock nostalgia!

Crossposted on FaceCrack.

The Fauves

It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of The Fauves – just take a look at my interview with lead singer Andrew Cox, featured in the current issue of Cordite.

I first got into The Fauves as an undergraduate. My friend Dom had bought their first EP, a woeful effort called This Mood Has Passed. At that stage they were struggling to sound like a post-Hunters and Collectors tribute band, complete with acoustic guitars, trumpets and songs about the gold rush.

But not enough has been said here. The reason I’m talking about The Fauves is because of two EPs released in 1992, which along with the first two Glide EPs, constitute my favourite early 1990s releases by Australian bands.

First off the rank, the brutally titled The Scissors Within heralded a new genre in Australian music, later categorised as art/science rock. Opening tracks “Fracture In the Sky” and “Watching Planets” made telescopes cool again, assisted by some excellent chiming guitars a la Pink Floyd.

The production standard on this release was quite exceptional, thanks to Robbie Rowlands, and also included some wicked sound effects work (similar in some ways to contemporaries Ripe).

Stand out tracks include the afore-mentioned openers and the should-have-been-a-hit-single “Wilding”. This song took REM’s “Driver 8” and rammed it into the 1990s – it was apparently going to be used for a Phillips TV commercial but that never happened. It did get featured on RooArt’s “Youngblood2” along with most of the other Oz bands I’ve mentioned so far.

“Ghosting the Road” (whose title stems, I believe, from a song on Sonic Youth’s Sister – or was it Evol – remember the Lee Ranaldo soundscape/spoken word track?) brings a more sinsiter aspect to the release, but then again, try listening to closer “Hell’s Home Remedy”, complete with sound of band firing a shotgun at one of the songs on the (again) afore-mentioned debut EP. It’s scary stuff – quite metal in fact, and a harbinger of the next EP, released six months later.

Apparently The Scissors Within and (get this title) Tight White Ballhugger were meant to be released as an album. I think the jury’s still out on whether this would have been a good move.

Considering what would become their first album, the sonically-challenging and over-long Drive Through Charisma, it seems reasonable to assert that if these two EPs had been fused together (they were recorded together in any case), then The Fauves may have had an altogether different career.

In any case, Tight White Ballhugger surpassed The Scissors Within in terms of musical experimentation, from the opening track – “Misguided Modelling Career”, another SY tribute – right through to the terrifying “Invisible Spiderman”.

“Archimedes’ Crown” managed to fuse REM’s “Losing My Religion” and the entire Hunnas back catalogue through its use of a mandolin. I believe this was the last time they ever used a mandolin on a track, none’s the pity.

“Sideshow Freak” showcased the band’s darker side, a music hall lurcher featuring some classic lyrics: “twenty towns in forty five days/ slips down a backstreet/ the children behind her all fall down/ the planes of her face like a wounded Picasso.”

From memory the EP also featured an unlisted track, basically a demolition of Hot Chocolate’s “Everyone’s a Winner.” Yikes.

For me, anyway, no Fauves release since 1992 has matched the out-and-out enthusiasm and daring exhibited on these two EPs. Check em out some time, eh?