“Is it better than last time?” The genial duo of Melbourne’s Big Scary are discussing their second full-length album, Not Art. But it’s not the quality they’re questioning; it’s their response to being told their album’s debut position of #32 on the ARIA Albums Chart in its opening sales week.
For the record, Not Art has already charted five places higher than their 2011 debut LP, Vacation – both albums released through the band’s own Pieater record label. An impressive feat for a band that still proudly operates as a cottage industry compared to the major label-backed albums its rubbing chart position shoulders with.
Not Art has also prompted an international deal with Barsuk Records, the first ever Aussie signing for the Seattle indie label that cultivated Death Cab For Cutie, putting Big Scary on a roster with bands like Nada Surf and Menomena.
Eclipsing record deals and sales figures however, is the personal achievement that Not Art commemorates after nine months of gestation (how fitting).
“I’m certainly proud of it,” states newly-blonde bobbed drummer/singer Syme, tucked cosily into one side of a couch also occupied by her co-creator, Tom Iansek – golden voiced guitarist/pianist/producer. “I feel like it’s done exactly what we wanted it to do,” he adds. “It stayed true to the initial ideas and vision that we had for it at the start.” “It’s Not Art as we’re not even thinking about that – what it infers, what it could mean, how this person might interpret it…”
The pair are relaxed in ‘The Bollywood Room’, one of several creatively furtive spaces inside Mixed Business, a former milk bar that’s been converted into Big Scary’s humble Fitzroy headquarters, complete with recording studio, mixing station, and a bevy of homely, artsy touches.
Not least in the upstairs ‘Room of Contemplation’, a downstairs hallway strewn with fairy lights, and a lounge-come-rehearsal room adorned with a warn upright piano and glowering portrait of Nick Cave above the fireplace.
But it’s between the gaze of a Kamahl poster and kitsch hashish pipe that ‘tom & Jo’ are currently framed. They’re warm, affable, and more than willing to discuss Not Art, an album that’s as daring and distinctive as its title suggests.
Following on from the rich, minimalist pop of their debut, Not Art retains the intimate moods and meaningful melodies, but offers a more cohesive set that paradoxically draws from even broader musical influences; filling in their sonic landscapes with more bold details – clipped drum loops, buzzing synths, a gospel choir – with all the attention of an artist’s brush.
Which brings about the first contradiction – the album title, which would be cheekily logical for rougher-styled music, but punk in presentation Not Art ain’t.
Iansek is the first to address the elephant in the room. “I totally knew I was in for a few tough questions about it,” he begins in his gentle tones; “knowing that, I sat myself down one day and wrote pages of notes, just trying to sort out the idea in my own head.”
“The initial thought behind it was I wanted the whole album to be a statement and so the initial title was This Is Not Art – which is more of a direct statement, but then we just toned that down, I guess to make it more ambiguous,” Iansek explains.
“I had the name, for some reason, knowing that there was something behind it and I just had to pinpoint what that was,” he says, his measured responses (decorated with ‘you know’-s and ‘I guess’-es) arrive at the pace of someone genuinely churning with ideas, but delivered in the patient, placid tones of an old mate.
One with zero pretension despite his lofty subject matter, fitting considering the title’s duality, undermining high expectations, “which is a bit of a cop out,” acknowledges Syme, “so it was funny thinking about it because you’re aware of the contradictions of it.”
“It’s naïve to say… it’s almost like a disclaimer: if you don’t like it, fine, we’re just doing our thing and we don’t expect you to compare this to every other album,” she explains.
“It sparks interesting conversations though,” Iansek proposes, “which was kind of the point, because there was no answer to it, it’s just discussing it, putting the question out there.” Inverting the age old needling query, ‘but is it art?’
Not Art also reflects the new ethos behinds its creation: to not worry so much about examination and evaluation and instead to trust one’s instincts; perhaps the biggest lesson the pair learned from the making of Vacation.
But one they only reached after a steep learning curve; “because it was the first album, we just put so much pressure on ourselves to create the perfect album and thought about it from every which angle. It just became this really confusing thing,” Iansek recalls. “After finishing… I was in this daze where I didn’t even know if what we did was any good.”
“So that was half the reason for the approach we took for this one, we could just completely remove all that thinking,” he illuminates. “That’s a lot of where the title comes from too is, it’s Not Art as we’re not even thinking about that – what it infers, what it could mean, how this person might interpret it – it just came down to whether it felt good or not and that was the only kind of guide for us.”
“Totally all about instincts and nothing else,” he declares. Which meant trusting in their uncluttered pop sensibilities and luscious atmospheres to create new arrangements that are fuller yet smarter.
Those distinctions are immediate upon hearing the musical leaps Big Scary have made in Not Art. ‘Luck Now’ sparks in the juxtaposition between skittish, cut-up drum loops against decorative piano lines and aching vocal mantras. ‘Twin Rivers’ takes the same blueprint and adds gnawing synths to a lyrical conversation between a couple in the throes of a dying relationship.
Elsewhere, ‘Invest’ nourishes the trip-hop meets Saint-Saëns vibe of Vacation’s ‘Of Desire’ and blossoms into a verdant meditation that leans hard into its hypnotic groove.
The changes are, at first, a little shocking to long-term fans, as it was for Syme, who admits it took her some time to ‘get’ the new material. “‘Luck Now’ I just didn’t appreciate at first… [they’re] just not a drum line I would ever really write myself.”
“[But] it always takes me a few months to catch up and forget all these things about ‘what would Big Scary play? What would I play?’” There’s no frustration in her tone though, only admiration at the realisation that “this is what suits this beautiful song. And then I just become a fan of Tom’s production,” she adds with an appreciative laugh.
The feeling of admiration is definitely mutual, with the equally modest Iansek adding, “we’ve always been of the attitude, ‘whatever serves the song’.”
What served the songs of Not Art most was the wide array of new musical discoveries that were winding their way into Tom and Jo’s ears.
Beginning at post-punk (“mostly Joy Division… Warpaint”), through to TV On The Radio, electronic music (“James Blake. Four Tet”) and ending up in hip-hop’s fiefdoms.
So how did a white, middle-class boy and girl crafting tenderly hewn guitar and piano-based pop make the sonic journey to the kingdom of Kanye and Jay Z?
Chiefly from a production perspective, explains Iansek, drawn to the likes of US group Spank Rock and Odd Future associates MellowHype; “the sounds side of it, more so than the songs.”
“I think there’s stuff that’s happening in hip hop that just isn’t happening in any other genre in terms of production and pushing sounds,” Iansek pronounces.
“How they combine old and new, different sources, which in a way is what every artist is doing. Trying to combine what they love and the artists they connect with into their own music,” he details. “I just think hip hop does that in such a distinct way.”
Once hooked on the genre’s intrepid sonic innovation, Iansek began “listening to whatever floated my way – so there’s nothing too obscure. Just Kanye West and Jay Z.”
Hip-hop heavyweights whose own blockbuster albums – in a strange bit of timing – framed the release of Big Scary’s Not Art. (Yeezus the week before, Magna Carta Holy Grail the week after.) “Jay Z. Kanye. Big Scary. The trilogy of hip hop heroes. Watch The Throne 2“
This humorous bit of serendipity isn’t lost on the pair, “Jay Z. Kanye. Big Scary. The trilogy of hip hop heroes,” Syme jokes. “Watch The Throne 2. We’re on there, yeah!” she chuckles.
So how would they feel if they managed to pull off the coup of being sampled by either of the twin rap emperors?
“Well that was a funny desire that was running through [the album], creating the things that people would want to sample later,” Iansek reveals, “that was a weird idea that was floating through the whole time.”
In particular, the closing track ‘Final Thoughts, With Tom and Jo’ was pinned with the hopes “that Kanye samples that one day,” deadpans a “half-joking, half-serious” Iansek.
“It was in my mixing notes to Tom Elmhirst,” he reveals of the British sonic specialist who gave Not Art its final polish after Iansek had completed his work on the album.
“He probably knows Kanye, that’s why it’s funny,” counters Syme, earmarking Elmhirst’s Grammy-winning touch to Adele and Amy Winehouse.
But it was another sampling guru that was an additional “huge influence” of Big Scary’s, trip-hop cornerstone and inspirational turntablist Josh Davis – better known as DJ Shadow – and primarily his 1998 masterpiece Endtroducing.
The beats, the cut-up construction, and especially the album’s mood, were all a “direct inspiration” says Iansek, “it just sits with you in this weird way, the whole album, it just kind of holds you. It leaves you feeling a bit funny but wanting to go back and listen again. I really like that and there’s definitely elements that could be applicable to what we were trying to do.”
Notably in the cut-up beats and sampled loops that form the bedrock of Not Art’s many peak tracks, but most obviously, the title of the lucid, atmospheric ‘Why Hip Hop Sucks In ‘13’; a direct nod – and 17-year update to – DJ Shadow’s track of the same name.
“That song was always going to be a test for us – we didn’t know if it was too much to be on the album,” Iansek reveals of Not Art’s longest track.
A fair worry too, the surreal centrepiece boldly eschews Tom and Jo’s distinctive vocal interplay to turn the spotlight on one of Not Art’s most daring but crucial characteristics: a gospel choir. 
The vocal group’s contributions were recorded in a single day at Stratosphere studios in New York, who “recommended them,” Syme notes. “They’d been working there on the Yeah Yeah Yeahs [Mosquito] album, whereas they had 20 and we had three.”
Nevertheless the trio radiated professionalism; “it took them a matter of seconds to work out three-part harmony,” Iansek quivers. “I would hum a line or say ‘I’m thinking something like this’, and bang, bang, bang – that was it and they’d just go and nail it.”
The results speak for themselves. Adding an understated but essential element to several key tracks, gliding beneath Syme’s longing lead vocal on ‘Harmony Sometimes’, the dramatic whoops of ‘Luck Now’, and the torchlight cooing of ‘Lay Me Down’.
It’s fascinating then to learn that it’s a defining quality of the album that very nearly didn’t happen. “We were just so nervous about it because they were really expensive and there was poor e-mail communication,” Iansek remembers comically. “It just sounded like we were getting set up to be ripped off.”
“We nearly didn’t do it! It was literally ‘yes or no?’” Syme interjects, mimicking their worrying groans at the time
“They were so strict on starting and finishing times and the kind of recording culture we’re used to is that you stay late if need be,” Iansek continues before adopting a strict tone, “we’re gonna be in at 11am, we’re gonna leave at 5pm – on the dot.”
“I thought ‘oh shit, they’re gonna rock up late… want cash first – leave early’ but no, they came in 10 minutes early – started like, to the second. Left on time having done everything we were after and then some.”
Including the remarkable, dreamy performance on ‘Why Hip Hop Sucks In ‘13’. “We had spare time left at the end of the session and I said, ‘would you mind having a sing on this?’” Iansek recalls. “[But] they were fine singing in groups but they were somewhat reluctant to be on their own.”
“I remember the guy, Michael [McElroy], just not even wanting to hear what he did because he was embarrassed.” Flaunting the gospel choir’s singing prowess was hardly Big Scary’s aim either, with Iansek – producer’s cap squarely fitted – threading their grand results into the album’s intimate, charming fabric.
“It was hard to tone it down and make it sound right… it needed to sound like it was a Pink Floyd sample or something in order to make it fit, it couldn’t sound like a modern recording of a gospel choir,” he explains.
His treatment, not letting them overpower but being “just there, bubbling away under the surface,” demonstrates Iansek’s keen development as a producer, crafting the sonic presentation of the songs he’s penned with Syme. Skills he refined from his pre-Not Art solo album, Man of Leisure, under the moniker Dads. “’Why Hip Hop Sucks…’ was always going to be a test for us – we didn’t know if it was too much to be on the album.”
Proving loud and clear he’s in a creative purple patch, Iansek reveals that work on “Dads 2” is close to complete. “I’m just finishing up mixing actually but it might be a while before it’s out,” he reasons, “[maybe] early next year.”
Mainly due to the amount of touring left for 2013, but with gospel choirs, hip-hop informed soundscapes, loops and samples, as well as Big Scary’s penchant for guitars, pianos, and harmonies – it all begs the question, how do they pull it off live?
“It’s really hard because it’s a give and take because the songs need samples,” Syme ponders aloud. “Actually, the point of all these songs is the sampled sound. So we’re constantly trying to figure it out. When will we need a click? When will we try and sample? What needs to be there to make the song come together and what can we keep out?”
With all the added complexity of the duo’s evolution on record, their live show naturally had to follow suit. More on-stage musicians were needed.
A short run of shows in April saw Big Scary expanding their touring roster to include local musician Gus Rigby (of The Fox Party), adding bass, keys, and vocal harmonies.
For their headline tour in August/September, they grow again; with the addition of DJ/producer Chris Port to handle percussion, beats, and samples.
“We’ve done a little trial week of shows,” Syme says of the four-strong lineup before confirming simply, “and it just sounds a lot better. But who knows when we’ll end up just two laptops on a stage,” she adds jovially, “we don’t really want that to happen.”
They may have undergone some alterations in order to do their material justice on stage, but in the studio, Big Scary have never let being a two-piece restrict them from realising their lush creations – and Not Art is their most lush set yet.
Not Art is out now through Pieater, read our album review here.
Big Scary ‘Not Art’ 2013 Australian Tour Dates
with guest COURTNEY BARNETT
Friday 30 August at The Factory Theatre, Sydney
Saturday 31 August at Zierholz, University of Canberra, Canberra
Thursday 5 September at Karova Lounge, Ballarat
Friday 6 September at The Hi ‐ Fi, Melbourne
Friday 13 September at Fly By Night, Fremantle
Saturday 14 September at Adelaide Uni Bar, Adelaide
Friday 20 September at Railway Club, Darwin
Saturday 21 September at The Spiegeltent, Brisbane Festival, Brisbane
Tickets on‐sale now from bigscary.net
