It only takes a single spin of Ball Park Music's second album to appreciate the leaps and bounds the Brisbane gang have taken in the two years since they were earmarked as 'one of the 20 best new bands in the country', according to triple j's Next Crop. Let's be clear; there's still a glut of catchy hooks on this record – it's Ball Park after all. But Museum goes deeper and forces you to listen more intently. Whether you're drifting away to the naked, piano-led ballad Coming Down or getting eaten up by the contained climax of High Court, you quickly realise that this is a group growing up through their music, and it's a beautiful thing to share.

Ball Park Music are a fully-fledged band now, and have been for many years, but it's still Sam Cromack's baby and the vehicle for his musical vision. Although it's late in a line of media interviews when Time Off catches up with him, the frontman is still his usual charming and non-censored self. His answers are devoid of bullshit and spin, just like his lyrics, and it's incredibly refreshing to hear considering the successes the band have shared in the past 12 months. But tell that to the 22-year-old and he simply shrugs it all off. Today is just another day, and even with Museum merely weeks from release it's business as usual.

“I have the worst memory and the whole year has just been a blur, so to reflect on it all as a whole is just really difficult,” Cromack admits. “I'm always just focused on what's next and have this real desire to plunge forward. And I think the choice to do another record within a year has made the past 12 months even blurrier than it probably would have been – I can't even begin to count what I've been through. There's all the success stuff that people see from the outside – the touring, the accolades, the singles blah, blah, blah. But on the inside, there is so much going on as well.

“There's this whole illusion and people think that if a band have a song on triple j they're pretty much a rock star and they own houses and jet skis, and they'll never have to lift a finger again,” he scoffs. “But that's a real myth, and even being in my position you learn that every day like, 'Wow, it takes so much fucking hard work and commitment and success before this becomes a full-time job.' It's a full-time commitment but money is a real challenge in this industry. It's fucking hard but we're doing our best to try and make this a real thing.”

That they are. Happiness And Surrounding Suburbs was only meant to be Ball Park Music's third EP, but the momentum continued building and the songs kept coming. Now, two records later, they've got a legitimate back catalogue of songs to pillage every time they step onstage. Such productivity points towards a prodigal creative soul, and although Cromack will never tell you, there's plenty of truth to that.

“I'm always hesitant to say, 'I am this' or 'I am that', but I guess a lot of people have pointed out to me now that I am prolific. But it's always just felt really natural, like I've always written these shit kind of songs and wanted to play them and always feel fidgety and excited about playing the new tunes. Even now, Museum doesn't come out for three weeks or whatever and I've still got ideas for the next record and so much musical stuff that I want to get off my chest which I think is good. I think with the whole cycle of the first record coming to a close and we just thought, 'What the hell is the point of taking one, two, three years off? We're just a small Australian band – we should strike while the iron's hot. There's plenty of stuff ready to go so let's just make another album right now.'”

Since Happiness... found an immediate audience last year, the band have toured hard and played even harder. Their tireless efforts have seen them go from strong support act to a legitimate headliner, and have helped the Brisbane quintet cement their place as a mainstage festival drawcard. Because of this, a lot of material on Museum has been crafted on the road, a place that Cromack admits to be perfect as it allows for the band's instant input and feedback. But as far as the songs being musical postcards of the journey they've enjoyed over the past 12 months, it's still a tad hazy for the vocalist.

“It's a little like that, but I think unfortunately that's a bit lost now, like that objectivity, and even though some of the songs were only written two months ago and they're on the record they still feel like they are so far in the past for me. But this is how I've always been. People always ask how I found the time to write or how it got turned around so quick, but it's never really felt like that for me. When we have a day off in Brisbane I'm always itching to get together with one or two of my bandmates and play music. I'm a musician right? I just like playing, and I've always got some ideas that are ready to go, and playing with other people always triggers off a bunch of other ideas in your head. There's always a million songs to be written.”

On their debut, in among mentalist hits like iFly, Sad Rude Future Dude and It's Nice To Be Alive, it was, ironically, the most fragile and broken-sounding track that proved to be the record's pinnacle. Alligator had an endearing emotional quality to it and it's gone on to show real longevity. Cromack agrees, saying he too loves the track. Excitedly, he admits, it's a voice and tone that Ball Park Music have embraced further on Museum.

“I think we got to about the six or seven track mark, and we stepped back and actually said, 'Oh, we've got a few too many Alligators – now we need some fun, frantic stuff.' I think balance is what we always strive for because any good record always delivers those two sides. It's really hard to create an album that does that. Obviously, we try our best, but I think about all of my favourite records, there's always something on that initial listen that's engaging enough to come back. That might be the short, sharp obvious singles but with every listen there's all these subtleties that will come through, and the tracks that you dismiss at first will end up being the best tracks. It's so easy to hear those awesome records and know what you need to get, but creating it is so hard because it's such a long and arduous process. And then when you get to the end you go, 'Fuck, is this good or bad? I don't know.' That's when it's time to give it to everyone and see what they think. But I've had enough time away from it now that I did have a couple of listens a little while ago and I thought, 'I think I like the record.'”

Now, with two assured albums chock full of colourful indie pop, Ball Park Music's focus has shifted further into the live realm and just how they can really bring these songs to life on stage.

“That's where we are at now. We've just gotten back into rehearsals for the tour and because we wrote most of the new record in the studio we're having to learn how to play all that, which is fun but sometimes a bit of a struggle – so we're still just getting our heads around playing the damn songs. But this is another area where I really value my bandmates because they push me; like they say, 'We've constantly got to be better – this show needs to be better than the last,' and then we just look at what we can do to improve.

“And y'know what?” Cromack queries, not expecting an answer. “Live music sounds like shit a lot of the time. Let's put on a show that has a lasting impact, even if it sounds bad. And it's so true – I've seen bands who are wonderful but if their sound isn't represented well on the night and there's no entertainment qualities you leave with a sour taste in your mouth. So I think we've always tried to have a show that's really exciting, so even if the sound falls flat people can remember something. That's our agenda at the moment, just brainstorming production ideas, lighting and all that kind of stuff.”

SOCIETAL DIFFERENCES

One of Happiness And Surrounding Suburbs' biggest strengths was Cromack's acute social commentary. The colourful nature of his lyrical tales helped Ball Park Music connect instantly with youth of the now, and on new Museum tracks like Cost Of Lifestyle and Fence Sitter, the band's infectious indie pop continues to act as a window into how the 22-year-old sees the world. The bespectacled frontman is quick to point out, though, that just because he's voicing his views, it doesn't mean he's about to stand on a soapbox.

“It's weird – I hate political music and I tell myself that I don't value it and I shouldn't write political things, and songs like Rich People Are Stupid are among my biggest regrets,” he admits. “I guess [the songs] never really stem from a political place; I mean, Cost Of Lifestyle I wrote after I'd been hassled by all these people on the street trying to sell me shit after I'd finished work. Then I saw a guy at the airport who had a Mac laptop, an iPad and an iPhone and I just thought, 'Oh, for fucks sake,' so that's where that 'Stop selling me shit that I don't need' (Fence Sitter) lyric came from. But I'm not expanding on it anymore than that. That's the chorus and I'm just going to say it a whole bunch of times – that's as political as I'm going to get.

“That's always been my attitude,” Cromack finishes. “I really can't fucking stand songwriters who tell you what to do, as if they've got the solutions to massive problems in the world, because I do not want to hear a bar of that. However, I do appreciate people just telling me how they feel and what it means for them – I think that's important.”

Ball Park Music will be playing the following shows:

Thursday 1 November - Spotted Cow, Toowoomba QLD
Friday 2 November - Andergrove Tavern, Mackay QLD
Saturday 3 November - The Tivoli, Brisbane QLD
Thursday 8 November - Coolangatta Hotel, Coolangatta QLD
Saturday 10 November - Great Northern Hotel, Byron Bay NSW
Sunday 11 November - Alhambra Lounge, Brisbane QLD
Friday 16 November - Prince Of Wales, Bunbury WA
Saturday 17 November - Capitol, Perth WA
Tuesday 20 November - The Gov, Adelaide SA
Thursday 22 November - Bended Elbow, Geelong VIC
Friday 23 November - The Palace, Melbourne VIC
Saturday 24 November - Foreshore Festival, Canberra ACT
Saturday 1 December - Kuranda Ampitheatre, Cairns QLD
Saturday 29 December - Ding Dong Lounge, Melbourne VIC