Stop Making Sense

Big Scary confuse in an oddly comforting way. Australian musicians have of late showcased an uncanny knack for branding. Even our most minor successes have learnt to arrive with specific sound and aesthetic; sharply pre-packaged for apprehensive audiences. Big Scary haven't grasped it yet. The Melbourne two-piece confound expectations with almost alarming frequency; from distorted live shows on the back of folksy EPs to simply surprising hip hop influences.

“Lately, we've both been listening to a lot of Jay Z and Kanye West's Watch The Throne,” drummer Jo Syme explains. “It's funny because, when we were making the album, we were trying to explain how we wanted our drums to sound and, in my head, I confused myself because I wanted them to sound hip hop – but I also wanted them to sound like John Bonham. I didn't actually realise until later that they sound quite similar.”

The pair effectively began as an acoustic act. Formed in 2006 by Syme and multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Tom Iansek, Big Scary were initially a folk-driven act; idly writing and rehearsing songs in Syme's parents' loungeroom. By 2008, however, their work had become unpredictable. Their debut recorded efforts – six increasingly eclectic EPs released across 2009 and 2010 – showcased a band seemingly opposed to the idea of a specific sound.

“When we first started jamming, it was a totally different band,” Syme says. “It was a totally folk band. It wasn't for quite some time that Tom even brought an electric guitar to the rehearsal room. Neither of us took it very seriously at the start. I think, when we made our first demo, we started to realise that we could make songs we were proud of together and that we had something that was kind of worth pursuing. It's always changing, though.

“With genre, I wish people would actually tell me what we sound like because I find it to be the hardest question to answer – 'oh, what kind of music do you play?' – I have no idea how to answer it. I mean, even pop has a whole set of connotations attached to it,” the drummer reflects. “I think we have all different attitudes to genres and so we end up kind of flitting between them all the time. I think the only constant, really, is Tom's voice.”

Even the band's live shows have proven to be shock affairs. Having secured their reputation through quieter efforts like 2010's Four Seasons (four EPs themed around the four seasons, later released as a single compilation), Big Scary's blistering, garage-rock live performances supporting acts like Hungry Kids Of Hungary and Florence & The Machine took audiences more accustomed to their lush studio eclecticism by considerable surprise.

“I think we mostly got that kind of reaction after Four Seasons. You know, that compilation was quite folky and we don't really touch a lot of it when we play live. We still haven't really figured out how to play our quieter songs live,” Syme explains. “And back then, whenever we were a support band, we just wanted to bring the party. We'd just play all the rock songs. There was definitely a big distance between what we were releasing and what we were playing on stage.

“We were actually thinking quite seriously about expanding our line-up for our live show around last year – but we just never got around to it. We've been too lazy to go out and look for someone and, even if we did find someone, we'd have to write a part for them. We've adapted all our songs to be played live by a two-piece. Still, every time we talk about expanding the line-up, we have a lot of people tell us not to – people seem to have embraced us as a two-piece.”

Still, their chaos is a genuine comfort. In a strange way, Big Scary's inability to make sense of their own music makes more sense than their peers' precocious flair for marketing and branding. Big Scary are as a young band should be – excitable, ambitious and vaguely clueless. Be it professionally or artistically, they don't actually know what they're doing. Even their acclaimed 2011 debut album Vacationer seems more a collage of inspiration than a concentrated work.

“We had so many songs. We really just wanted to get stuff out there. Tom's just a really prolific writer,” Syme says of the pair's ambitions for the album. “I think we also thought we were making a more consistent genre album – but obviously that didn't happen. I think we just didn't want to keep sitting on songs. We're already kind of working on our next album because we just don't want to have to sit on the songs for too long – but we are trying to make it a more concise record.

“I mean, it's not something we do deliberately. I think life would be way easier for us if we could just stick to one genre. Or, at least, less confusing for listeners. As Tom writes, we don't try and fight what's coming. We just try and let the song be what it is – when it comes to recording, we try to surround each song with appropriate sounds, but we've never sat down and gone 'oh, let's write a hip hop song' or whatever.”

Particularly inspiring is Big Scary's success. Cursed with scattered musical interests and a marked disinterest in industry, Big Scary have nevertheless secured both national and international success over the course of their brief career – aside from their already-respectable list of supports and considerable critical acclaim from mainstream publications, their tour in support of their debut album had to be postponed until now on account of overseas commitments.

“Going overseas was incredible. We'd obviously never been before and it was just a huge, eye-opening experience,” Syme gushes. “It was actually really good that we had that between the release and the tour because it allowed us to really kind of find our feet with the new material before doing a really big tour. Having been overseas, I'm now really excited to hit up all the venues across the country and really get stuck back into it.”