Fresh from releasing her debut album, 'Half Time Oranges', Alana Wilkinson takes us through each of the record's deeply personal and affecting tracks.
Alana Wilkinson (Credit: Jack Fenby)
Equally powerful, charming, affecting, there's a reason why Alana Wilkinson has been described as a "smiling musical assassin". For anyone who needs a reminder of her impactful musicianship, the most cursory of listens to her music will show you why she’s been garnering acclaim at every turn.
This month, Wilkinson has released her long-awaited debut album, Half Time Oranges, which arrives as a collection of her typically-heartfelt stories. Focusing on the journey of with her firstborn son, she looks at the lighter side of motherhood, the importance of family, and all the triumphs and trials in between.
Currently in the midst of a national tour in support of the record, Wilkinson has shared a track-by-track write-up of each of the songs on the record, looking at their inspiration, how they came together, and what they mean to her.
I wrote this song in the self reflective weirdness of lockdown, after spending my nights laying awake and thinking of all the embarrassing things I’ve ever said or done. It’s about a bunch of times I got busted trying to be cooler than I am, stepping into those awkward moments and owning them as part of my story. In this song, Square One is my sense of self – it’s who we really are at our core and where I feel we have to come home to when we get busted in the middle of a fib.
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Listen out for the spoons, played by Terepai Richardson.
Ultraviolet was inspired by my dear friend Jack. It’s about all of his vibrance and some of the many moments that I’ve been disappointed in the world’s response to it. His story is important and I really wanted to share as much of it as I could fit into a few minutes because our rainbow brothers and sisters deserve the fucking spotlight, and should not need to hide themselves away to be safe.
Listen out for the Titanic flute, played by John Barrett.
In the middle of a skeptical ponder about the significant neurological changes of a woman's brain in postpartum AKA ‘Mum Brain’, I accidentally answered the door to the postman with my boob out. I started to tally some moments of wild postpartum brain and boobie milk chaos and created this love song for that precious chapter – so full of love, chaos and surprises.
Listen out for the percussive ‘choo choo choo’. Now try to unhear it, heh heh.
For anyone who’s ever fallen in love with a tree, here is my admiration for the orange tree in our backyard. This song is a real moment of admiration for the world’s perfect natural design, for everything to have just enough of what it needs to grow and bloom and give us sweet fruit.
Listen out for the recording of the breeze moving through the orange tree’s leaves.
I wrote this song in the NICU with Raffy on my chest when we heard the news that one of the other babies was placed in palliative care. Our family had bonded with Charlie’s family over our three months in hospital together and this was a moment no one was prepared for. I knew this song needed to be heavenly and I am so grateful to Loni Fitzpatrick for adding the angelic harp you hear in this song.
Listen out for Loni’s exquisite harp.
Jess Fairlie and I wrote this song in about 15 minutes at the end of a writing session. I had the guitar and the ideas for the story and it just seemed to pour out. Then we got to the end and I realised that this song was actually my story. It’s about softening, healing, giving less fucks and finding joy in the way the world moves, even when it doesnt stick to my plan.
This song was originally recorded with Hayden Calnin for a previous record that didn't go ahead, so when Paul Ruske [producer] came on board we kept the essence and mainly reworked the main vocal, guitars and drums. So many drum takes! At the end of the song, I would close my eyes and see myself bursting out of the house to run into a field of flowers and freedom and the drums became an integral part in this vision. The drums you hear are a beautiful frankenstein of all the insanely talented drummers who gave their magic takes to this song.
Listen out for Frankenstein field running drums.
Just a true story about the little dream that brought two friends together in love! The band and I (Isaac Gunnoo on double bass and Angus Robb and Pia Nesvara on BVs) recorded this song live in the kitchen at Music Farm Studios.
Listen out for those epic BVs by Angus and Pia.
My grandmother was a complete legend and we shared a really special connection. No matter how old I got, we played piano together, baked, danced, made puppets and painted pictures. Toward the end of her life she suffered with dementia and my family watched on helplessly as the world around her started to disappear.
I wasn't able to visit her in COVID, so we spent a lot of time on the phone and whenever she heard my voice she would time travel back to when she was my age. All of a sudden I got to know my grandmother as a best friend. Shine Through is about that sunny pocket of hope and wonder that opened up for me amongst the devastation of it all. A truly phenomenal experience that I will be forever grateful for.
This is my favourite track on the album. I love the way Paul and I were able to capture exactly what was in my head with moments like the bells (which sound like my grandmother's old clock) and olden day movie strings.
Listen out for the production elements in the second verse and chorus.
This song is really about remembering the gorgeousness of a relationship before the messiness of breaking up tainted the whole chapter. I remember reaching a moment of healing and regaining access to the beauty, the hilarity, the innocence of that young love and finding gratitude and forgiveness in the whole lot.
Listen out for the groovy drum machine melding into a real life drum party.
I wrote Dream Big to sing to my son Raffy when he was in the NICU. He was born extremely prematurely at 24 weeks and put up a big fight for 92 days in hospital until he was finally big and strong enough to come home.
Throughout the whole terrifying experience I found solace in daydreaming of our future together; wishing on birthday cakes, singing to the trees and exploring the beauty and the chaos of the world waiting just beyond the hospital window.
We tried to record this about a million times with different interruptions – traffic sounds, wrong room acoustics, me sobbing through it – and then finally we captured this live take one evening at Treehouse Studios. We left it as is, without adding production because this is how it was sung cotside. It’s how I want other babies and their families to hear it - no bells and whistles getting in the way.
Listen out for my whole, entire heart. It’s in every word.