The Imaginarium

Our interview is due to take place inside the lush, 1920s-imagined rooms of the QT Hotel in Sydney. We've been warned that Luke Steele's room is 'haunted', something he later scoffs at declaring he's seen “nothing… yeah”.

With spiked bleached blonde hair and black roots, Steele is the personification of a rock star. He's a prototype, Class 1-A rock daddy to the max. He is taller than expected and dressed all in black, complete (of course) with a heavy-looking long leather jacket that he's forced to flick out behind him as he sits down.

It's been two years since word got out that Empire Of The Sun had begun working on a follow-up to their 2008 debut, Walking On A Dream, which smashed into the Australian music stratosphere snaring nearly every award it was nominated for and indoctrinating millions into their 'vision'.

“My dad came to New Zealand at Christmas,” begins Steele, lazily waving his arms around as he talks, “and he was like, you know, 'What's the Emperor gonna do next?'” Steele stops, having a secret giggle to himself. “He really got caught up in the whole story of everything.”

The 'story' is the video compendium that accompanies all the band's tracks, beginning with the first single off their debut of the same name. There he is: Steele, dressed in a powder blue Eastern-styled robe, elaborate gold headdress and white gloves, kneeling in prayer before a temple. The clip follows Steele and fellow Empire Of The Sun member Nick Littlemore as they cavort around an Asian city, intertwined with placid hand movements, head shaking and Littlemore's bare-chested-ness. There is, however, method in the madness – with Steele and Littlemore ultimately creating the videos to get fans drunk on the world – or rather the Empire – they have created.

“That's always been the vision of the band,” says Steele, “for people to expand their mind and to travel into the make believe.”

However, after having toured for the better part of 2009, the journey back into the Emperor's world wasn't quite so easy for Steele, who admits to battling that dark, underbelly all creative minds struggle with following the huge success of Walking On A Dream.

“It's pretty hard after having all that to get back into writing again,” Steele sighs. “All the shows were so big, you know? Fifty thousand up, you know, festivals, people banging stuff, girls throwing bikinis on stage,” he laughs. “Then when it's all over and you need to go back to the studio, that's when you feel a bit caged.”

Ultimately, it took New York and a pink limo to help Steele unleash his creative beast. “Well….” Steele begins, “we'd done a couple of days in the studio, we went out for dinner, one thing led to another and then the next thing I knew I was inside a pink limousine with a sky roof and champagne, going down Manhattan and singing. Then we ended up at a karaoke bar,” he laughs sheepishly. “I ended up going back to the hotel suite, broke a glass, woke up at 8am the next day and knew that I needed to get to the studio. Then I remember going there and just breaking out singing, 'I don't want to be complicated.'”

The result is the saccharine-synthed Concert Pitch, which straddles '80s-inspired BPMs while staying true to Steele's halting, breathy vocals. But the track isn't really a just ambassador for the new album, Ice On The Dune's overall sound; a tightly produced dreamscape extravaganza that will enjoy its soaring premier at none other than the Opera House as part of the Vivid Sydney festival, which will be streamed live via YouTube. On the album's opening instrumental track, Lux, Steele employs the talents of composer Henry Hay – who has worked previously with Littlemore on Cirque du Soleil – creating an epic menagerie of strings and horns; a fitting introduction into the world of the 'Emperor'.

Steele rolls his head around and begins fiddling with a giant ring adorning his wedding finger. “I was in New York and I remember just playing piano and writing a piece and thinking it really sounded like the Emperor was riding his horse over the mountain. We were kind of already… we were working with this guy Henry Hay, who does strings with George Michael and a few of those big touring acts, and we sort of like pieced it together from the main music I'd written and then put in all these fresh horns and it was like…” Steele leans back in the chair with his head now loping over the side and in an exhausted sigh says, “Ahhhhh! Intro!”

As for the track's name, Steele says, “I always have dreams of woolly mammoths and I always thought that would be a cool name for a woolly mammoth to have – Lux.”

The creative hub of the Big Apple wasn't enough, or perhaps it was enough – just simply too much for Steele, who vows he won't be heading back there to record any time soon. “New York is just like…” Steele looks away, as if confused, “Okay, I have this vision of this giant bulldog sitting over the city and growling.”

What?

Steele laughs. “I know, I know, but like… it's this really heavy place. I feel like everyone has their portal to God, you know, their spiritual connection,” he says, shooting his hands high above his head. “But,” Steele sighs, “in New York, it feels like there is no room for your portal, so everyone's wires are crossed. It's weird.”

On the flip side of the duo is Nick Littlemore, who splits his time between the Empire and dance act Pnau. “Nick is always writing,” drawls Steele, grinning. “He never stops working. He's like that guy in the bus that'd got the notebook that never stops writing. He's got piles and piles of notebooks lying around the studio. But, I'm the same with melodies, all these different songs.”

He fidgets. A lot. Looking around the room, up and down, continuously tapping his knee.

Suddenly, a mobile phone begins to ring and Steele bursts out laughing, jumps out of his chair, grabs the offending device from the bed behind him, picks it up and answers, “Babe? Yeah, I'll call you back,” before dropping it down beside him.

“Slab! What is it? Is that what they say in film sets when a phone goes off?” Steele laughs.

Focusing his attention back on the upcoming album, Steele insists that this time around, “everything is better”.

“I think,” he drawls, “I think this is more focused to… to the world. The concepts are pretty universal. I think my voice is better, you know, I quit smoking six months ago, the music overall is better and so are the lyrics.

“I think this time we tried to be better in every possible way,” he continues matter-of-factly, “Like, sometimes you've got to break your arm and let it heal a different way – you gotta be like a doctor. You have to realise you're presented with a whole new set of challenges and you have to get this mind, which is programmed in one way, to think another way.”

The result is a triumphant return for the Emperor and his Empire, one that focuses on pulling/tugging and ultimately snapping the heartstrings of loyal fans and listeners everywhere.

“Nick and I… we kind of wait 'til that point where we look at each other and go, 'It's not right' and then when it is right, you go…” Steele throws back his head and let's his arms go limp by his side before reaching up and touching his heart. “It's got me, right there.”

TIME TO FOCUS

“I was doing a lot of preaching in the studio for this album,” Luke Steele laughs, rubbing his hands together.

The Empire Of The Sun frontman admits that he battled through several low points in the lead-up and during the making of the band's new album, Ice On The Dune, but adds that despite the tumult, he was more determined than ever to produce something extraordinary.

“I was kind of like George Martin talking to Paul McCartney,” Steele laughs, “I'd be like, 'Great song, but the middle eight isn't that hot,' and McCartney would be like, 'Oh … Okay,' walk away and then come back with A Day In The Life or something.

“We focused on every part of the song. Like, some Americans would be like 'Friday's bridge day,' but other times we would work for months on like the tag… or the fade in.” Steele looks down and shakes his head.

“By the end,” he begins exhaustedly, “you could tell it did my head in when I put on the record and it sounded like white noise,” he says, making a static-like whooshing sound.

Thankfully, it seems Steele's 'sound meltdown' is abating and he tells us that finally the album he and Nick Littlemore worked so tirelessly on is “sounding better each time I hear it. You know it's like… I don't know…” Steele drifts off.

“You know, you just have a meltdown and you need to step away from it. It's hard though, 'cause music is so spiritual and so personal… it's part of your whole body and your blood,” Steele suggests, relaxing more now.

“You go… well, I go to sleep and I have to keep feeding the music. I start just tapping. I can't escape myself.”