Living for The Weekend

Underground Lovers are uncool. Or so says Philippa Nihill: singer, guitarist, keyboard player. In place of cool, the band have simply propelled their idiosyncratic 23-year career with a diverse and beautiful range of releases, the latest being their freshly-minted seventh album, Weekend. “The music scene can tend to be pretty cool but we've always had a confidence that we were pretty happy doing our own thing,” Nihill explains, a sardonic smile in her voice.

Indeed, the Undie's journey from Melbourne indie land to ARIA-winning, international touring success and back again underscores something about the band that endears them to their fans. Their fertile, multi-layered blend of drone, electronica, pop and dreamscape is littered with film and literary references and spiked with philosophy. There's a willingness to mess with expectation; theirs and ours.

As Nihill observes, “As a group of individuals we've got this fairly eclectic and broad aesthetic that does cross many different artforms. I think as a group we're quite playful, so for us it's like why not bring in this idea or that sound? It's all about the music, man – don't get me wrong – but y'know, there's no reason why you can't bring in other things.”

For all that, Weekend is classic Underground Lovers. Right from the outset, Spaces puts you firmly into Undie's territory. With songs like Au Pair and The Lie That Sets You Free the band both revisit and refresh the clash of ideas that has 'defined' them over two decades. Echoes of Stereolab, My Bloody Valentine and New Order remain but so too does the band's Australian sense of upending. “I think it's beautiful,” says Philippa Nihill with unabashed enthusiasm. “I always love what I've done. I mean you can only ever do what you're doing at the time, so I always love that you get this outward expression of it. And y'know, they are separate from you.” As to whether Weekend represents an evolution or a simple re-statement of the oeuvre, Nihill quips, “Well, I don't think we'd be very keen to come back as a bunch of Mariah Carey wannabes.” 

However, one fact is equally undeniable: the passing of time. Since their May 1990 Corner Hotel debut the band and the individuals in it (Vince Giarrusso, Glenn Bennie, Maurice Argiro, Richard Andrew and Nihill) have gone from 20-somethings living in an analogue world to wiser souls marvelling at a digital universe. Pondering the years, Nihill simply notes, “In your earlier days you've got your eye on this [music] as a path, so you've got a slightly longer term view; whereas when you get to now you're kinda well and truly on that path. We definitely get just as excited as we used to… but I think we get a deeper enjoyment out of it now.”

The intervening years have also seen the band members flex their creative muscle away from the band umbrella. Giarrusso's award-winning feature, Mallboy, was only the fifth ever Australian film to win a slot at Director's Fortnight in Cannes. Meanwhile, the Bennie/Nihill GB3 side project produced a critically acclaimed trio of albums featuring the likes of Steve Kilbey, Sarah Blasko and Adalita. Perhaps all the extra-curricular activity explains the 14-year gap between 1999's Cold Feeling and Weekend. “Actually it doesn't feel like there's been any great gap,” Nihill counters. Nor indeed does it seem there's been any discontinuation of the particular sonic buzz of an Underground Lovers show. “There's a very clear interplay between moments of pure guitar-driven joy and pure pop expression, but it's never too far from that dreamscape type of reflective feel. It's an almost nostalgic feeling.” 

Not that this gets in the way of good wig-out. “Wigging out is a kind of transcendence. So yeah, we definitely aim for that. It's quite addictive.”