Category: songwriting

Scott Edgar is sitting at a bar table, relaxed, beer at his side when I arrive at the popular Northcote Social Club.  A relaxed version of the performer in Tripod we’ve seen on our stages and screens, he ends a call with his daughter and we begin by noting the span of varying projects to cover from decades past.

“I feel like literally all my song writing has been in a forum that people don’t often think song writing fits in necessarily.  I kinda like that. I’m not a pop star, not a musician in that sort of way. But I still manage to make a career out of music and composing to some extent”.

Many first saw Scott with Tripod on TV as part of the Hey Hey It’s Saturday segment ‘Red Faces’, in the late 90’s.  They performed their infamous “Oasis” skit, noting how all the bands’ songs are made of the same chord progressions.

“That was a real lesson in how pervasive television was at the time.  We didn’t really realise.  Everyone the next day was ‘Hey we saw you on the telly!’ And we were like ‘Wow what’ve we done?’”

Meeting at Uni while performing in musicals, it wasn’t long before the trio (Scott, Yon and Gatesy) started busking, and built up a following at a regular gig in Williamstown, Melbourne.  In the late 90’s St Martins theatre were programming a Comedy Festival season.  “I never thought that we were a comedy act, but they had a hole in the program and I said ‘I do have this band, it’s sort of silly and we could easily do an hour’”

The next year they were off to the Edinburgh Comedy Festival, a new learning curve- they’d been playing cover gigs for years but never in the comedy realm.

Were you playing any of your originals back then?

I started a band of my own, called The Universe in 2004, and I reckon we ran for 10 years, before I got jack of my own organisational logistical abilities.  Part of me wishes that band was still around.  But I have to be realistic of the time and the hard work, you gotta justify it.

The Universe songs have humour, but on a smaller scale.  Would you solely write those songs for Scott Edgar and The Universe, whereas with Tripod, everyone is writing?

Yeh that’s the main difference.  Tripod pretty much always write together.  At the start we’d bring in songs which we’d written, but it tended to lead to a bit of tension because the other two members of the band would rip it apart, and then put it back together.

(Now) you might come in with an idea, but you don’t get too wedded to what you think it should be, because once it gets into the group situation, it’s gonna evolve.  Meanwhile I was writing my Universe songs – and they wouldn’t change really at all.

Best of both worlds.

Tripod is Tripod partly because of our personalities.  I wasn’t trying to be a different songwriter for The Universe, but I knew that people’s expectations were different, and they didn’t necessarily kick up a stink if there were three serious songs in a row.  It’s easier if you feel like you don’t have to be funny all the time.  But it’s harder because you have to be more honest.

You’ve done the cabaret stuff and then the more musical type theatre narrative. Is it the same deal – the three of you come in (to write together) when you’ve got a project coming up?

Yeh. They’re all different.  We’re gonna be playing some shows at the Spotted Mallard coming up- we are doing some writing together of some open ended, fun, generic stuff and you come in with a list of ideas and see where it will go.  But all of us would say that our preference is writing to a brief- where we understand the bigger structure of what It’s trying to do.

Bit of a starting plan?

A place with some limitations that you work within.  Sometimes it’s those limitations that spawn creativity in a funny way.  Like ‘How do I fulfill this bit of the brief, not in a way you would expect?’

Instead of completely open ‘What are we gonna write?’

That’s right.  When we’re writing for animations or musicals and the song has to do A THING, already you’ve got something to compare it to.  You’ve got the obvious way of doing something like ‘She packs up and moves to the city’ – you could write a song saying  ‘She packs up and moves to the city’, but what’s a more interesting way of saying that?  Having that framework in place, and how could I have fun inside that, in a way you don’t expect?- that’s where I get excited.

Is that why you’ve all done a bit more of those projects as you’ve gone along?

Partly, yeh.  It is a challenge, on levels other than on comedy.  How do I explore a topic or show some part of yourself which doesn’t rely on getting a laugh every 20 seconds.  I’m not trying to shitcan the idea of comedy, it’s great but it’s the colours, you know?  10 years ago, when we did Tripod vs the Dragon- our brief to ourselves was ‘Lets let it be sad in the sad bits and funny in the funny bits and let it do its thing’ -which provided a huge marketing headache (laughs) but the lesson for us, was its not an either/or proposition.  It could be sad and funny at the same time. You could be  serious without being over- sentimental.  It was a hard learning experience.  But it made us better from that point on.  We also felt more comfortable being not funny as well, and letting things be weird.

That leads me to ask – the song Jeboticabal.  The chords are sooo sad! Did you write that song?

No, we wrote it together.  It wasn’t called Jeboticabal though, it was called another name of a town, which genuinely was a name of a town but too made up. We got the Atlas out and found Jeboticabal.

I thought ‘this cannot be a place’, but it is!  A gorgeous piece of music, then it has the ridiculous lyrics over the top. 

That’s an example of the kind of song I’m really proud of. Because its that weird mix of an alchemy of different feelings. I’ll sort of push towards simple stuff, and then Gatesy will push towards real complicated stuff and we find a balance in the middle somewhere. That was a time when we had to write credits for Skithouse.  Skithouse was a real training ground because we had to come up with something people would hear on national tv every week.

You couldn’t sit around and hope a snowflake landed on your noggin, you had to work and write and write and write, and I think there’s a lot to be said for that kinda training.

Taking action instead of waiting for the ideas.

Yeh exactly, that’s right.  That’s what Triple J was to us as well.  We had the ‘Song in an Hour’ challenge.  We used to do this thing, where we would go in every week at 6:30 – the audience called in topics and we had an hour to write the song.  We had a ball, and it was university for us – how to do it efficiently.

Was there anything (material) from that, you hung onto?

Almost nothing (laughs). It was a really popular segment, we did it for 2 or 3 years.  I reckon there is like zero songs from that. We did some stuff later on for Double J. We said we don’t want it to have to be comedy – call in the day before, we’ll write it and come in the next. We liked a lot of the stuff.  It wasn’t a very popular segment mind you.

How do you know, do they tell you how many people are listening?

No, this a bit of a debate between me and Gatesy.  He doesn’t reckon there’s any evidence to suggest that it was not popular.  But I reckon it’s pretty obvious that it wasn’t a popular segment (laughs).  We were booked for six weeks.  We did six weeks.  Also the topics started coming in from audience members– then by the last two, they were by other announcers at the station.  That to me is pretty clear (laughing).

There’s a song in that.

Yeh!  We did one for this woman whose husband had died.  That was intense.  I was crying while singing it.

Did you ever speak to her?

Yeh she was on the line.  She was bawling her eyes out.  Myf (Warhurst) was crying her head off.  I was trying to keep it together but part of me was punching the air that we’d managed to touch something.  It’s very simple in the end – make people feel feelings – of some kind.

And lyrics, is that a team effort?

In Tripod it’s a group thing.  We often experiment in how we write because you wanna mix it up a bit.

Like ‘Lingering Dad’, for example. 

Me and Yonny were on the couch, muckin’ around trying to think of something.  Gatesy was meant to be in the other room mixing or tracking something (for) Skithouse at the time. He  was hanging in the doorway, making half hearted conversation with us. Yonny sort of goes ‘Rack off you feel like a lingering Dad’– maybe it was Gatesy who said it –It was one of them to the other – and we thought that was hilarious.  Then I started playing a riff and it went from there.

It’s quite chorus driven isn’t it? There’s a lot like that – ‘BAS Time’

Ohh yeh hunded percent.  That really falls on the line of ‘Is it a song or is it a comedy bit’ you know.  We had to make that decision when we did a song book – 101  Tripod hits and a few of those fall into that category where it’s not really a song.  If you’re trying to imagine someone playing this on the ukulele at home – doesn’t get there you know.

With songs or bits like that – is it the chorus comes first?

Yeh – it was pretty groove driven that one – Gatesy was muckin around on guitar and im doing the keyboard.

Often you’d find a chorus that felt right, then (would come) the story.  I heard a great tip from Jen Cloher – I’ve never had the guts to do that one but if you find a chorus you like, make it a verse and try and write a chorus even better (laughs)

You have to be a bit brutal with yourself – I take a strange pleasure in cutting stuff these days.  Like even if you really love it but you feel the shape isn’t there, there is a weird sadistic thrill I get out of cutting stuff out.

Any writing routines?

I wish I was one of those people who could get up and go straight to work and have a coffee, have breakfast then go back into the studio.  But it’s really ad hoc for me.  These days I do a lot of screenwriting and illustrating, my week is a real patch work. I’ll loosely have an idea and think I’ve ‘really gotta write that song by the end of the week’.  And sort of find time somewhere in there.  In all the things I do, I always build in time to not be thinking on it, because your brain will subconsciously be working it out.  Then when you come back and look at it you really see stuff clearly that you might not have.

Most people I’ve interviewed have said that their routine is that they don’t have a routine.

Another ritual I have is I don’t have podcasts on if im going from A to B, because that’s when your brain will wander- and if you block it up with podcasts all the time – it really cuts into that time which is precious time for an artist, that’s your bread and butter.

Even text messages.

Yeh and social media, really clogs all that up.  I’m not a total teetotaller but I am conscious of avoiding that.  And sometimes it’s like ‘of course’ and it all comes clearly to you, if you let your brain do that.

Instead of trying?

Sometimes you have to, but if you build in those times, that’s really good.  Allow yourself that freedom.  It’s very easy to fall into ‘Im doing this thing- but it’s really gross and unfinished and wonky– but you’re forgetting– youre making it now! Don’t stress that it’s not MADE yet.  Because you’re MAKING it, you know.  Sometimes you’ve gotta push yourself, but you cannot punish yourself that something’s not finished yet.

And creative stuff is not A to B like building a wall or whatever.

In Tripod I tend to be the guy at the piano going ‘We’ve got a first verse, we’ve got a chorus, but were unsure how the chorus gets to here – so this is the thing we need to solve right now’- kind of structuring the process.  When I’m writing for myself, im the opposite.  I’ve got all these bits and I try and make sure it’s really open and free and to not be wedded to anything.

Do the other guys work like that as well?

I think they’re naturally that way.  Where I fall into the category of structure/cracking the whip guy, they’re like ‘What are we up to now?’ I’m like ‘You thought of 5 solutions for something we already solved, you idiot (laughs).  They’re total time travellers those two, they’re like dogs (laughs).

It works well then!  What was the first song you wrote?

When I was young I wrote a bunch of really, really embarrassing songs, obviously.  The first one was called “It’s a cold night in hell’.

Were you a teenager by any chance?

Yeh, and it was like a AC/DC thing.  Like ‘Baby you told me hell would freeze over before you ever loved me, well guess what it’s a cold night in hell.’ Terrible.  Really bad.

But you had that feeling of ‘yehh lovin this.’?

I mean I loved doing it but never for one second thought I’d be doing (the whole Tripod thing) for a job.

Have your narrative songs always been driven that way – I assume with Tripod they’re idea based?

We try and keep it free – there’ll be a period- at the start of every production really, there’s this period where everything is possible and you say yes to everything- you definitely try to honour that phase. We’ll have a general topic an example would be a show we did at the Malthouse which was an adaptation of a Russian play on a 3 headed dragon that ran this town.

You guys chose that?

Nope we were cast in it – they were looking for a 3 headed dragon (laughs).

And you wrote the songs?

Yeh. It was our second dragon show in a row.  We need to write a 3^rd one – it’ll always bother me if there isn’t a trilogy. We knew the themes but we hadn’t settled on where the songs would go-  There was a phase at the start where we did what we call ‘bandcamp’ where we go away for the weekend and get wasted, set up the instruments, cook, and jam for 2 or 3 days.  We did the same for our show this gaming life- riffs and bits of lyrics.  We wrote a song in one night a few years ago, DILF.

Obviously a popular song. I was at Queenscliff last year, that song was definitely played.

That song still comes out (laughs)

The Scott Edgar and The Universe song Met My Match- how dd that come together?

I was really into that Jazz swingy feel at the time.  That was really early on on, one of the first I wrote for that band and one of the first I rehearsed with Xani, the violin player, who was like 17 at that time – now she’s working on Come From Away – and Micky Meagher the bass player who’s in The Putbacks now.

How do you know when a song is finished?

I never know when a song is finished.  With Tripod, the process is finished when performing live– you’ve got such an opportunity to figure out what’s landing, feeling right, I try not to get too locked in. I’ll often come up with ideas for songs we’ve played for 15 years.  Maybe that’s a bad habit, but with comedy I kindof justify doing it, by responding to the audience.

We wrote this song years ago called ‘Text Message’ which was how ridiculous it was at the time (we thought) that people would break up via text message.

Now it’s EVEN worse.  But we made a lot of predictive text gags and Nokia 3110 (gags).  Recently we thought ‘we’ve gotta at least update those references in the song, to like emoji’s, gifs’.

Any influences in 2019? 

I (recently) bought a 130 year old sheet music book of Irish jigs, for $12 at a market.

I guarantee no-one else has said that.

 

Tracy McNeil’s Canadian accent flows warmly, as we find a spot to sit and talk in a Brunswick beer garden.  She’s on the phone when I rush in late and after I grab a drink, she’s quick to apologise for being on a call. An indication of her down to earth personality.  She’s strong looking with an expressive demeanor and i’m already stoked to be interviewing another female, who is forthcoming with fresh song writing ideas, and has experienced many aspects of the music industry so far.  Her last album Thieves won best country album at The Age Music Victoria Awards in 2016, and with her band The Good Life has performed at numerous festivals including Riverboats Festival, Port Fairy Folk Festival (VIC) and Americana Fest (Nashville).

Do you remember the first song you wrote?

The first was a joke song for my best friend at the time.  I used to always wanna write songs with my friends and I wasn’t in a very artsy crowd in high school. I was probably, 15, 16. I was a dancer, I came from a modern dance background. I wasn’t doing any music but just learning a few chords on guitar. So it was a joke about a friend of mine and actually it was ‘Winter Wonderland’ and we changed the lyrics. That was my first attempt at ‘Can I write?’ (laughs)

Do you remember what it was about?

Yeah.. it was kind of about her getting drunk and wearing her mums lingerie, parading around on a table and slipping on a nut while doing a strut.  You know it was ridiculous and silly but um we’re still friends and it’s all cool- It was my only way of trying to… express something.  It wasn’t until I got to uni that I started taking it more seriously. I would sit in the hall, it had great echo in the hallway of my dormitory.  I was kind of a closet writer, closet player.  I wasn’t thinking about music but (it) was always in the background.

Had a guitar with you?

Yeah. I wrote a song ‘Flashlights and Fireflies’ and it was kind of a classic love story that was written that summer working at a Jewish summer camp of all things (laughs). It was probably the first song I was like ‘Ok I’ll try to take this seriously and write something with meaning’.

Then it sort of flowed from there?

Yeah I was about 20 maybe, when that was happening.

Were you showing that song to people?

Round the campfire, to friends, but nothing seriously until I was 27. Did the whole starving artist thing- I was a rehearsal director so did the whole modern dance world thing in Canada. Then what switched me (on to song writing), was Clare Bowditch was living with my brother Logan in Canada.  Having her sing around the house was gorgeous and inspirational, and I’d be downstairs – I had a darkroom and was doing photography – writing again in the closet (laughs). Too scared to come upstairs (laughing) and she’d pass me the guitar in a living room full of people (after) she’d just slayed the floor.

Oh godddd!

She’s just melted hearts and (would) go ‘Here you play one Trace’. And I would refuse. And my soon-to-be sister in law said ‘Get off your ass, what’re you doing.  I’m sick of you and your brother’. Because my brother’s an incredible mando player and bluegrass muso . Cos we’d complain ‘It was too nerve wracking – ohhh tortured soul, and I’m too scared to share it’. And she’s like ‘Just shut up and do it.’ So that summer we rented a bunch of gear and recorded a compilation record. I had about 3 or 4 original songs, my brother 3 or 4 and a friend 3 or 4.

That’s a good idea to go in it together. 

Yeah. Didn’t do anything with the record but that was ‘Okay I’m doing this.’ And then it was probably, gee another 4 years later. I’ve come to music quite late – it’s always been in the background.

Were you still dancing?

Yeah at 29 I moved to Canada to prepare for coming to Australia to go to teachers college.

Which side of Canada?

I’m from Ontario, near Toronto so was living in Montreal which is in Quebec for 4 years before moving to Toronto for 9 months to save some money to then move to Australia.

Right ok. 

In that 9 months, I made my first solo record.  I’d been in that basement apartment in Montreal writing. Stopped going to dance class, because I was going to bluegrass nights, country music nights, at Bar Fly, this hole in the wall in Montreal.  It didn’t really work with getting up to do 1000 crunches and go to contemporary dance class at 9am, so the worlds kinda collided and the older I got my body started to break down and I went ‘This music thing’s way more fun, it’s way more accessible and it’s feeding my soul in a different way so i’m gonna have a crack at it’.  I didn’t even know how to wrap a lead when I got to Australia.

Was the idea to move to Australia music related?

No, it was uni, to do post grad dip in Education.  I was going to be a high school teacher, and have summers off to make music, I love teaching, I do love kids, and dance – to teach dance and drama and music in high school – and was sick of starving, so I came to it quite late – I needed money.  I looked at my coffee table and it was a milk crate and a board and I thought ‘This sucks’.  And I needed money to make records – I soon found that out, as an independent artist.  So yeah, I moved out here with ‘Room Where She Lives’ the first record, and came for 10 months and was supposed to go back to Toronto and try and get a job teaching, and keep playing with this band I put together with my brother for the record, and that was never gonna happen.  I fell in love with Melbourne, fell in love with Australia.

Did you come straight to Melbourne?

I went to Sydney for 14 days to see a friend and stay in Kings Cross, but couldn’t wait to get to Melbourne, as it wasn’t my scene.  Got to Melbourne, lived in Prahran for a month or so, with a friend, and then finally got a place. Did uni for a year, and applied for one job so I could stay.  And I got that job (smiles).

So they sponsored you?

Yeah, for quite a while. Then I found love, and married an Aussie so stayed here.  So through music I kind of found my way here.  I often wonder what would’ve happened if I’d started taking song writing (seriously) from Winter Wonderland (laughs).

So i’m guessing Winter Wonderland wasn’t Americana style?

No it was the same as (original). (sings) ‘Walking in a winter wonderland’.  Making fun of a friend, she had the party house, her mum was a nurse and we had full reign (laughs).  You know, we’d steal the alcohol and watch Friday night videos, it was the 80’s! There was no supervision.

So the Americana influence, was there much of that in Canada?

Yeah.  When I started to really look at it, I guess when I was at the Jewish camp (laughs),  I listened to Grateful Dead, Neil Young, The Band, Allman Brothers.  All that stuff was on my radar, their contemporaries like Blind Melon– which are no longer – that kinda pulled from that same sound, guitar-monies and harmonies.

I could hear that pop acoustic sound as well as the Americana sound. 

Yeah I love singing different kinds of music as well.  Mum loved Fleetwood Mac, Dad loved The Eagles. There’s so much pop sensibility in those two bands, love them or hate them. They’re so slick, and their hooks are so strong.  And I love Fleetwood Mac, as much as I love the grit and dirt of someone like Neil Young.  Then if you can take that into an indie pop sensibility, I loved bands like Pavement, Smashing Pumpkins.  Depeche Mode – was the first music concert I ever went to. The Cure, Lemonheads- that creeps in for sure, especially the newer stuff i’m writing.

The song The Valley,  there’s a lot of guitar picking etc. Does that come as you’re writing, or do you add some of that later on?

The picking progression of that (song) is a combination of what im doing, and what Dan Parsons my guitarist is doing. I couldn’t finger pick properly with the bass string if my life depended on it – so ive got this very choppy ad-hoc way of doing it, so it’s really rhythmic, I bang guitar a bit with my hand to kinda keep  that rhythm.

As you’re writing as well?

Definitely.  Because the writing usually comes from a chord progression.  The chord progression in ‘The Valley’ was a progression I used to do in the stairwell, at uni, when I was sitting by myself– a really simple walk, D Shape, up.  I would do that a lot, and I returned to that.  That ended up being the first track on the record.   Dan then does something that counters that. He’s working off what I’ve done and he’s countering that in this really beautiful way. So you’ve got two acoustic guitars interweaving.

Have you always written on guitar?

I have until last year. Actually I write in the car as well.  I can only write when I’m alone, I can’t write if Luke’s in the house or my daughter Ruby’s there- so the only time I have, is in the car. At 7:30, 8 o’clock in the morning, no guitar, put the phone on and I’ll sing into the phone, on the way to work. Hence many traffic accidents- for real.

So you’re starting with the melody?

Yeah! And then I get to work and I might have a break at lunch and go get the guitar and try work out what I was doing, or wait until I get home, or several days later – which is interesting because sometimes you end up playing different chords than you would if I’d picked up the guitar and reverted to the same patterns. The Thieves record I was at my mums when I wrote that in Canada, she’s got a piano downstairs and I started trying to write on Piano. I’m really limited, I can just play basic chords but it’s so melodic so really marking out chords, trying to get a vibe – and then having to re figure it out on guitar and take it to the band (laughs). But that’s been interesting because this new record, we have a keyboardist now in the band so he’s taken the demo of me on guitar and he’s playing it on piano or demos on piano he can really cut that out and play it beautifully.

So writing on the run.

The phone’s so easy for that, i’d die without it. I don’t know how many phone recordings I’ve got, it’s ridiculous. You get an impulse. I used to get that sometimes on a train, constantly thinking of melodies, thinking of lyrics and speaking into the phone.

It’s definitely changed things, a lot of people are doing that now, or using their notes.

I’m not formally trained so I can’t go ‘Oh this chord works with this’ or ‘Move it up to this chord and it’ll be really satisfying to the listener’.  I can never think about it from that perspective, it’s so emotionally driven. Always.

There’s lots of ‘How to write a hit song’ technical tips out there, but if you can’t feel it..

Yeah, what’s the point.

Have you done much co writing?

I’m doing a bit now with Luke (husband and musician Luke Sinclair). So we’ve got a duo called ‘Bell Street Delays’

Is this the first time you’ve co-written with Luke?

Yeah. We’ve been doing this thing for the last 4 years, but it’s a side project that can never quite get off the ground because we don’t have the time.  The plan is to release a record in the next year and a half.  But we are such different writers- lyrically we come at it from a different perspective.  We’re different in almost every way, it’s interesting.  So we compromise a lot when we write together because they way I feel things is different, my phrasing is different- his phrasing is much slower.  I mean, im talking a mile a minute (laughs), I cram so much shit in there – and he tries to reduce it to the simplest amount.  But when we get it right it works beautifully.  It’s kind of this real compromise, and we’re getting better at learning how to do it.

Do you each bring in a start of something to that (project), and then nut it out together?

Yeah that’s it. The role in this particular thing – generally speaking – is he’s crafting most of the lyrics, and I’ll be crafting a lot of the melodies. Sometimes the roles reverse and sometimes we each bring a complete song to the table. I think as a married couple, to write about stuff that’s personal –you have to be willing to get into some fights or messy territory. You’re in this weird place writing about experiences we relate to but about other things, other people. You externalise it a bit- I think you have to. But it’s still gotta be real so it’s this fine balance, like we need to feel it and perhaps (to have) lived it but it can’t be about us.

And you’d think about what the other is thinking too much, get in that analytical thing.

Oh yeah – ‘Why are you writing that, who’s that? You don’t love me any more’. You can get into that place. The only other time I’ve co-written was with Jordie Lane. I had a duo with him – Fireside Bellows many moons ago, and we wrote a record together. Same thing, you gotta compromise somewhere in the middle. It was the first time I’d experienced that idea that the song isn’t always completely personal. You sometimes need to be able to step outside of it so it can exist without it coming from the depths of your soul. Because there’s two hearts, two heads, two people coming at it, but anyway, both collaborations have worked really well.

So is that inspiring?  Would you maybe come back from some co-writing and look at things in a different way?

For sure.  And everything’s valid, it’s what’s gonna work for you in the moment. What’s another way I can say this, What’s another word that hasn’t been used a million times but still has an impact or the listener is gonna get it.

Maybe its like when you pick up a different instrument. Because it has a different sound you start hearing things differently and get inspired.

Absolutely.  It’s weird, like me playing piano- an, i’m not even a piano player – you can’t even say that phrase really, but the songs on piano have this soul kinda feeling because all I can do is (plays a basic rhythm sound on the table), your voice sounds different, it feels instantly different, like when in the car.  Yeah you need to change it up.

It sounds like you’ve finished the songs on your album?

I think I have, i’m not sure.  There’s this great graphic artist (image), a self deprecating cycle of the artistic vision – ‘Oh my lord I love it, Oh im not sure, oh I like it, I fu**ing hate it, its fu**ing the worst thing ever, oh actually it’s not too bad, oh I love it! It’s fu**ing excellent!’

It’s a cycle I do that all the time- so I thought i’ve got 12 songs, I only need 10.  Normally people have 20 songs and whittle it down to 10. At the end of the day its gotta be right.  I brought one to rehearsal and i’m trying to be really quick to give up if it sounds a bit shit.  And it’s not their (band) fault but you’ve got it in your head.  They’re playing different rhythms, it’s late in the night.  I thought ‘This is shocking’.  They’re like ‘No! Give it a chance, we’ll try it another day with a fresh perspective’.

That’s a good idea, because I guess day to day you can be feeling differently about things.

Oh yeah totally.  And i’ve had that feeling about a song i’m loving right now, that’ll be on the record. It had this whole different feel and I thought ‘This is the worst, and now I love it, might be one of the first singles.  So it’s a journey and I couldn’t go on that without that band ive got and they bring their ideas and their talent and it’s not me alone in the room any more- and that’s when it gets exciting.  That’s when it comes to life.

You trust their judgement.

Totally, and we trust each other and try things, come back at it from a different perspective.  Which is good because im so quick to go ‘It’s a shit song, i’m so sorry I brought this to you!’

The song Last Place I Looked on the album Nobody Ever Leaves- the chorus is gorgeous.  How do your choruses come about?

Whether I know it or not at the time, i’m trying to get it into a higher register so it pops or whatever, and its often the hook of the song, kind of the anchor.  I wrote that in Best Street, Nth Fitzroy, in the bedroom.  I tend to often know when it’s the chorus- it’s moving to another place.  Some other songs have 2 chords. Luke and I are writing one at the moment the chords don’t change- we’re getting verses, a bridge, a chorus out of the same two chords.  I guess the only way it’s happening is melodically.  I think you can be more efficient than you realise. You can be creative with the melody (and ) achieve a sense of movement or direction.

But I certainly don’t do the thing of ‘ABABAC’ or any of that.  It’s emotive, in the moment.

So it comes from how you’re feeling and you go back to it and it either feels right or it doesn’t?

Yeah.  The good ones come pretty easily.

Everyone says that.

You might go back and edit a few things. The ones you have to toil over, sometimes they’re not as satisfying, it feels like you’ve run a marathon. Because you had to work so hard and it’s a gift.  I wouldn’t say i’m lazy, but when it comes to song writing I don’t wanna have to go back and work and work and work.  I know lots of song writers who do sit for hours trying to get that verse to say what they’re really trying to say.  And that’s a craft in itself, and an important craft – because you might have three verses of a song and you’re missing that verse that’s gonna anchor the whole thing, or give some resolution.  It can change the whole perspective of the song.

On Finer Side I notice the melody is a lot higher. Were you thinking about that at the time?

That was one I wrote at work, on the piano in the music room.  I dunno what Key its in C – I dunno. It needed to be way up there.  I remember thinking ‘Fu** am I gonna be able to do this after ciggies and whisky at the bar? (laughs)’.  But i’ve been trying to do that a bit more, the songs for the new record. It’s not gonna sound pristine, I don’t have a huge range.  If it’s not perfect, hopefully it’ll be emotive.

You’ve been playing that one live?

Yeah, yeah.  That one I thought from the beginning I want to write a song where everyone can take a verse.  We kinda do that at the end of the gig and it’s a nice way to feature the band.  We have such strong singers in the band. I love that moment.

I was listening to Middle of the Night, and really like the bridge.  Writing in the past i’d often leave bridges until the end. How do you approach them?

Yeah i’m kinda similar, come back and go ‘Oh it needs a bridge’ and work that in– absolutely.  Often you get the verse or sometimes even the chorus first.  It’s a bit like a puzzle. The bridge for that one I remember trying to work on in the tour van for ages because it shat me.  It’s like ‘meet me by the waterfall’ come on, where am I (laughter).  But then I was like ‘There’s nothing else I wanna say!’  I’m a fan of a dreamy bridge.  I love chucking those in there. My stuff is often over 5 mins – you need something different.

How do you know when a song is finished?

When I don’t really have anything else to say.  From a writing perspective ‘Does this feel complete? Have I left anything out?’  Then sometimes that doesn’t match musically – maybe there’s more work to be done instrumentally. You can say everything you want to say but if you don’t arrange it in a way that feels complete, there might be more work to be done there.

Sometimes if you take it to the band?

Yeah working it out, what feels good, should we do the chorus here, chuck in another round of chords before the bridge?  That stuff we work out in the studio or rehearsal room.  I bring songs to the band I feel are done, but then the arrangement might change. Subtle changes or extreme changes, (though) I usually feel like all the parts are there.  I think it’s a gut (thing).

Tracy’s Website

Thieves album

The Valley

Last Place I Looked

Finer Side

Middle of The Night