Sticks And Stones

Don't Fuck With Our Dreams is a relatively provocative moniker for any piece of art, but for Melbourne's The Smith Street Band their new EP's title is a rallying cry following an unsavoury act of violence which marred a Byron Bay gig during their massive Young Drunks tour in February. They say that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and this uncalled for thuggery – while nearly splitting the tight knit band asunder at the time – certainly galvanised them in the long run.

“I can't revisit the incident itself – there's legal stuff still afoot pertaining to it – but basically someone showed up out of nowhere and was very drunk and very aggressive, and some shit went sour and he ended up hurting a really good friend of ours from one of the bands we were touring with. It was really, really horrible,” The Smith Street Band's frontman and songwriter Wil Wagner recalls sadly. “On the night of the show we didn't really understand the gravitas of what had happened, because it was all over very quickly – we came out right at the end, and [our mate] was thrown in a car and driven away, but the guy was still hanging around. It was very intense and we moved the show, it was, like, 'This is fucked, we don't want to play here. Who knows, the guy could come back with his mates!'

“We had to get out of there, so we went and finished the set on the beach. We'd been in Byron for a few days prior, just hanging out on the beach and having this beautiful 'Byron is the best place on earth' kinda time – 'everyone here is so nice and just gorgeous and amazing' – and then we got to the show and it all got fucked up. But we moved the show and finished the set at the beach, and then we were sorta getting phone calls throughout the night and the next day about what had happened to [our friend], he was in a pretty bad way.

“We were really disillusioned by it – it was a really confronting thing to happen at one of our shows. We're all very anti-violence, of course, but it was really full-on having that thing go down while we were playing, and we couldn't shake the feeling of real responsibility. I was the guy on the mic, and I couldn't stop thinking that I could have done something differently. We were sitting in that fucking van and I was saying, 'Pull the fucking van over, I'm out, I can't do music anymore' – we were all questioning what we were doing and if we were going to make any difference. Not that we're trying to 'make a difference, but seeing that happen at one of your shows is so kind of heartbreaking.

“It was really eye-opening and fucked for all of us that that kind of thing could happen in a music environment, which for us has always been this loving thing and a safe kind of place – when we were all losers growing up we all found music and found this safe environment – and having that shattered is like breaking a bone for the first time and realising, 'Okay, I'm not invincible'. It was scary but then the way that everyone dealt with it and the aftermath was the most inspiring thing to be a part of, and that's what the EP is about – how everyone bonded together and said, 'We're not going to let people like that win'. We all believe in what we're doing really, really strongly and passionately, and it was such an amazing experience in the aftermath seeing all of the things that we say we believe in – how we'd get drunk and say, 'Man, I'd do anything for you!' – all that shit was actually happening, and everyone was doing everything for everyone else, and that's what Don't Fuck With Our Dreams is about, that spirit.”

It would have been a travesty indeed if The Smith Street Band juggernaut had been derailed at this crucial juncture. The years that they've spent slogging it out in the underground DIY scene have been coming to fruition in recent times, with their increased profile here in Australia being matched abroad and opportunities starting to open for them afar (UK singer-songwriter Frank Turner, for instance, just invited them to open for him on a two-month tour of the States). Plus you get the sense that the enigmatic Wagner just wouldn't know what to do with himself without his mates and his music...

“I worry every day that I'm not going to be able to write songs anymore,” he ponders. “I've got a lot of doubt in myself, that's why I write – all of the things that make me a weird, sad person are what makes me keep writing. I have belief in what we doing, but at the same time I don't think I write good songs – I still think I'm years off writing what I want to do. I hope that this lasts a long time, because I'm really enjoying myself. I've even known ever since I was a kind that this was all I've ever wanted to do, and the fact that we're getting the opportunities that we are now makes me want to do more and work harder – I'd put out two albums a year if I could, I live and breathe this shit. It's literally all I care about. I like my girlfriend and I like music, that's all I've got.”