War Room: "We Wanted To Make Music That Was Nothing Like Anything Being Made Here"

Even those who aren’t particularly well-acquainted with classic cinema are probably familiar with the following line: “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here! This is the War Room.”

This moment in the Stanley Kubrick film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb was clearly of vital inspiration to Louis Campbell and Luka Kilgariff, the two musicians who head the Adelaide-based post-punk outfit War Room (which also includes Harry Blight, Maxwell Elphick, and Thea Martin). The band’s debut album - scheduled for release on Friday, February 28th - is titled Please Don’t Fight In Here.

The slight change in wording, Kilgariff explains, is an attempt to “tone down the assertiveness of that reference.” The “plea” of it is supposed to hint at feelings of “tenderness and anxiety.” It is a reflection of how War Room’s music and values might perhaps be more sensitive than traditional notions of post-punk.

Both Campbell and Kilgariff are at pains to credit musician Jachin Mee as having come up with the idea to reference Dr. Strangelove in the album title.

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The music of War Room was initially inspired by bands emerging from London under the post-punk banner in the Windmill Brixton scene. The two musicians expand on what this means.

“During COVID, when we were locked down and we didn't have the opportunity to see any gigs, Luka and I were completely engrossed in the music that was coming from The Windmill, the pub in South London. And the bands that were coming out of that music scene were Black Midi, Black Country, New Road…” The list continues. “It's kind of post-rock and post-punk with a different writing language to the traditional genre. I think it's more theatrical and more indulgent. These bands aren't afraid to really push the musicianship, which is something that really made sense for us.” Campbell mentions other artistic choices such as “spoken vocals and poetry and a confessional style, playing characters. These are all things that Black Country, New Road and Black Midi did, which aligned exactly with the Modernism that I was really into.” He cites Virgina Woolf as a major example. Kilgariff mentions the poet Barbara Guest. Campbell adds F. Scott Fitzgerald, James Joyce, and Gertrude Stein to the list of inspirations. He says that he sees Kurt Vonnegut’s sly humour in Kilgariff’s writing sensibility.

So, that “South London sound” - how have they metamorphosed it by way of Adelaide?

Kilgariff explains that the songs they wrote emerged as very guitar-heavy. “More dance-y, more groovy. Because Australians like to dance, generally speaking. Especially in Adelaide.” In contrast, he explains, “the South London scene gives off the vibe of like -” Kilgariff imitates sober concentration - “they’re playing the music and everyone’s watching with their arms crossed.”

Campbell adds, “I think the one thing that really made us different from the South London scene and the bands that we’ve been talking about is that we had no formal music education outside of school…So we were kind of doing almost the garage rock version of that kind of stuff.” This, they say, contributes to the raucous, danceable nature of the record.

Kilgariff warns that on the album, “There is like three or four minutes of chill.”

Their music is “much more impatient” than a band like Black Country, New Road’s, for example. Which is also a symptom of having been quite young when they wrote many of the songs - a “banger” when you are twenty is the most important thing of all.

Campbell touches on the lyricism of the album. “I think the confusion of adolescence and the isolation of being in Adelaide and not really having a scene around that really knows what we’re trying to do means that there’s actually a lot of impulse in the lyrics, and there’s a lot of anxiety, and not every emotion is encoded in an image. It’s just emotional sometimes.”

Some of the songs on the album are “simply fun exercises,” whereas others, Kilgariff explains, “are deeply, deeply, deeply personal songs.”

Does that make him feel vulnerable - the thought of these deeply personal songs soon to be accessible by theoretically everyone in the world?

“I feel like it actually is kind of the opposite. I feel like I’m kind of empowered by it. I’m not carrying it with me as much.”

“That’s exactly how I feel about the lyrics I’ve penned,” Campbell agrees. “Some of these songs are confessions. Some of it is just nonsense.”

Campbell expands on their songwriting sensibilities. “The way that we make music for War Room is completely detached from any way you might learn to write music if you looked up how to write a song.”

They are both “very ear-led” songwriters, Kilgariff says. “We both had an interest in odd time signatures and angular instrumentals.”

“Repetitive riffs,” Campbell adds.

Their aim with the album was to create “a maximalist sound” in order to “spite the city’s fear of being different.”

“We just wanted to not be defined by one genre or one type of sound,” Kilgariff explains. “The ���maximalism’ is kind of just being overzealous with filling in as much sound that keeps us interested.”

Campbell sums up their process as, “Here’s an idea, let’s squeeze it in.”

“There’s a lot of genre-play within the music,” Kilgariff says.

Perhaps some of this genre-play came of wanting to be truly singular in a city that is small, where there isn’t always so much room to stand out.

“Even when we started War Room, I just got the sense that everybody in Adelaide is so inward-looking. Looking into the city for inspiration,” Cambell says. “Musicians care about so many trivial things, like the popularity of themselves compared to some other band within Adelaide. This cycle gets us to a standstill.”

“It’s like a tape loop,” Kilgariff adds.

“When we started War Room, we wanted to spit in the face of that. We wanted to make music that was nothing like any music that was being made here. And to be courageous in what we try and incorporate.”

“I will say that some of the stuff on the record does have resemblance to Adelaide music,” Kilgariff clarifies. They are not saying that their sound is “totally out of nowhere.”

But their sound is fascinating. The album is complicated and silly and post-modern. It is simultaneously danceable and intelligent. It is an enthralling piece of work.

They want everyone to know, Campbell says, “When the album comes out, we’ll be selling cassettes and CDs on bandcamp. The ideological alignment and business practices of the streaming services are disgusting, and I really, really would love it if people took buying physical media from small local bands more seriously.”

“You don’t even have to have a tape deck or a turntable,” Kilgariff adds.

“It’s just a gorgeous miscellaneous item.”

Kilgariff grins. “Stream that shit. But if you fuck with us -

Campbell finishes the sentence for him. “Put that money where your ears are.”

War Room’s debut album ‘Please Don’t Fight In Here’ will be out everywhere on Friday, February 28th.