Fountaineer Walk You Through Their Debut Album 'Greater City, Greater Love'

With their debut album, Greater City, Greater Love, due out this Friday, Victorian outfit Fountaineer are giving fans an intimate look into the LP with this exclusive track-by-track. 

Frontman Anthony White takes you through the 12-track record.

sirens (part one & two)

I was teaching at-risk kids here in Bendigo when I was writing the album. I’d often try to teach them to write their own stories. The key to a good narrative, we would often discuss, was to introduce the audience to the setting and the characters at the beginning. So Part one aims to capture the claustrophobic nature of a small town and plonks the listener in the front bar of the old Newmarket Hotel (which has since been white-tiled and gentrified), amidst the rabble of bar fly wisdom and conversation re-runs. Part two soon arrives like an epiphany, and the catalyst of doors closing and others opening becomes apparent. The song is emphatic, but the doubt lingers in the background. It's serious, cheeky, restless and proud; a mixture of regional life and all its essential ingredients - like nana's rum balls (hefty on the rum).

still life

This was a bedroom job. I love Kieran’s guitars on this one. I’m always drawn to them. They swim elegantly between the monotonous electronic elements of the track, with the mood of the song echoing the frequent mundaneness of regional life. The weight of limited opportunities, the tedious routine of work, the regrets of forgotten dreams, all making our hearts feel heavy. But there is much to celebrate about living in a small town, sometimes we just have to squint and look a little harder. My brother and I have a fear of being ordinary. It is what it is, I guess. That’s what this song is getting at, to never die wondering.

the cricketers

Audiophiles would be aghast to learn that much of this was recorded in my bedroom in Bendigo (with a phony drum machine and a free iPad synth to boot). But that mindset is at the heart of this record; embracing limitations and fighting and fighting (sometimes with each other) to get the true version of the song to have the final say - not necessarily the ‘perfect’ version. There’s no recording studios in town, so the options are to do it yourself OR keep procrastinating.

boxing days

I recall recording this late at night on our last night at the farmhouse, missing my family and struggling to pick the strings of that cheap acoustic guitar. Franky, Kieran and Chris sat on the floor of our loungeroom-cum-studio, sipping drinks and offering words of encouragement, tending to the open fire that glowed warmly in the background.

wide awake library

The night Stankonia played. There’s a horrible tale about drink driving within this story that I will shamedly share with the world one day. In the country, this is a real and devastating issue. The thought of losing my family is too much to bear. At the end of the day, all of us have too much to live for.

lights beyond the edge of town

All the boys have a fondness for this one. It’s so simple on the surface, yet there are underlying textures and complexities and personalities that come from the four of us which make this song work.  It serves a definite purpose as the closer on side A of the record. 

words with friends

All good albums need a country number, right? Ringo had Act Naturally on Help!, The Lemonheads have The Outdoor Type. As with most tracks on the record, it was a matter of ‘how do we fuck this song up? Let’s get this sounding ugly’.  Badly Drawn Boy is a huge inspiration for us, and this song contains probably the only explicit BDB moment on the record. It's quickly disrupted by the protesters storming the lawn of the Goldfields Library, though. Grrrr.

grand old flags

Overhearing a conversation on local talk back radio in a hardware store was the reason this song came to be. It also really set the ball rolling for Bendigo becoming the focus of our record. I think the album speaks of any small town in Australia. The title of the song is taking the piss, like Springsteen's Born In The USA. The vocals were recorded in Chris’ (who recorded the album and now plays keys in Fountaineer) spare room in Albury. It might have even been the first take.

ONOMATOPOEIA

This is the one song I can still bear listening to (but always struggle to spell). It’s also the one that made us consider the possibilities of this concept album; the moment the boys recorded their guitars over the piano at the same time, and those dark, twisted drums bore in to upset the beauty of the song. 

some bright sparks

This was always meant to sound like one of the greatest nights of your youth; a brilliant night on the town with your mates, an evening of smoke machines, flashing lights, and young romance. But a night out is not without its comeuppance, and truly beautiful moments in life, we all discover, become few and far between. It’s unapologetically electro/disco (we referenced MJ and JPY when making it) and hints at the hope we hold in our hearts for this place called home.

vase city blues

It’s my wife Anna’s favourite moment on the record; that’s enough for me. (And she should know, she’s had to listen to it a few times).

i will become/hinges on