Fitzgerald's presents Say Hi & Big Scary.
Say Hi has broken up 37 times in the last decade. If the band were a traditional four-piece rock outfit, things would have run their course shortly before the release of the first record in 2002. However, sole member Eric Elbogen manages to continue moving forward, despite the ample foils that keep presenting themselves.
Um, uh oh is the result of the last ten years of Eric Elbogen's experiences with failing at relationships, both musical and otherwise. Its narrators repeat the same mistakes over and over again. They watch joy from afar. They
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Fitzgerald's presents Say Hi & Big Scary.
Say Hi has broken up 37 times in the last decade. If the band were a traditional four-piece rock outfit, things would have run their course shortly before the release of the first record in 2002. However, sole member Eric Elbogen manages to continue moving forward, despite the ample foils that keep presenting themselves.
Um, uh oh is the result of the last ten years of Eric Elbogen's experiences with failing at relationships, both musical and otherwise. Its narrators repeat the same mistakes over and over again. They watch joy from afar. They self-loath utterly and completely. They drive and they drive and they drive. They anticipate mortality. They look up from decades of tedium to find that joints now creak and opportunities have long passed. They hide their mortification from others as best as they can. They take deep breaths. They get punched in the gut.
The record is weary and blue-noted, revealing, personal and pained and there's expressiveness in his performance absent from previous releases. In fact, it's difficult to fathom that the songwriter that wrote the sugary frivolity of the early Say Hi material could have written such a mature collection of songs. If you've been a fan in the past, you're going to feel that Um, Uh Oh is a large step in the evolution of the band. If you haven't, this is the release that's going to change your mind
Big Scary: Tom Iansek and Jo Syme first emerged from Melbourne’s music scene in 2006, with a recognizable chemistry and genre-defying spirit that would become synonymous with their smart ‘less is more’ arrangements and dynamic songcraft. Between Iansek’s evocative falsetto, Syme’s economic drumming, and their combined approach to self-sustained production, the pair gifted their core elements with understated ambition.
Inspiration taken from the lounge rooms of suburbia to the elements of Mother Nature herself, any muse resulting in a rich, diverse catalogue of songs and style. Fuzzy garage rock sat effortlessly beside pocket orchestrated ballads. Idyllic melodies maneuvered through piano-led landscapes, as unfussy textures were unseated by good old-fashioned rock workouts.
Across a number of self-sustained, crafted releases, and tireless touring that saw them selling out headline shows across Australia, Tom Iansek managed to find down-time to hone his production skills under the solo project, Dads. The product of two minds in unison, Big Scary – now armed with the skills of the studio as well as their songwriting talents – began to wind their stories into the landscape of the road. And in turn, it wound back.
Released in October 2011 through the band’s own newly-formed label Pieater (pronounced pie-eater), Big Scary’s intimately crafted debut, the equally introspective and inventive Vacation, was a beautifully subtle, focused set. Recorded and shaped with close friend and producer Sean Cook (former bass player of Yves Klein Blue), Big Scary enlisted Welshman Gareth Parton (The Go! Team, Foals, The Breeders) to mix and engineer the sessions.
Vaction’s twin lead singles, the scale-tastic piano explosion of ‘Mix Tape’ and the sensuous but searing garage rock of ‘Gladiator’, lured listeners to an impassioned album of vulnerable, genre-bending tunes that delivered minimalist pop rich in melody and meaning.
The results earned the pair widespread acclaim, feted by fans and critics alike who fell for its emotive charms, its dexterous folds, and simple human appeal.
Iansek and Syme had become one of Australia’s most exciting emerging acts. With their beloved unpredictability and rich character shining through on record and stage, they marched into a successful 2012. Off the back of Vacation’s third single – the gorgeous paean to the tyranny of distance, ‘Leaving Home’ – they appropriately set out to seek their fortunes abroad in America.
Their adventures overseas took in industry showcases at SXSW, CMW, and CMJ, as well as hopping the coasts for headline shows, stealing the breath of audiences in New York and Los Angeles in delivering their trademark versatility, lovable magnetism, and intelligent songwriting. After flying the flag for Australia abroad, including a showcase in Mumbai for the Music Connects India Music Forum, a homecoming beckoned.
They staked a claim to their very own recording studio-come-headquarters in Mixed Business, a humble little Fitzroy domestic for Big Scary to develop new projects in-between ‘crafternoons’. After nine months of quiet refinement, grooming new music and moods between travel, work, and touring; Big Scary have birthed their second colourful, creative album. The boldly titled Not Art was recorded and produced by Big Scary’s own Tom Iansek, and mixed by the Grammy Award winning Tom Elmhirst at Electric Lady Studios in New York.
Naming their second studio record for the contradictory nature of creation; attempting to undermine the expectations of the artist’s responsibility; the pretension that everything must have meaning. Which brings Big Scary to their non-tribute lead single, ‘Phil Collins’, its title a hollow reference even as its spacious, moody music is full of meaning. Transporting with a towering guitar that blows tremolo chords like dust balls across a stark yet expansive rhythmic landscape; Syme’s reverberating tom hits rumbling like warm clouds overhead, as cooing synths gild Iansek’s distinguished vocals. ‘Phil Collins’ reflects the features of Not Art, finding the twosome mining broader sonic influences and more detailed aural landscapes, while staying true to their modest principles. Allowing the organic, honest process of their ongoing learning to flourish on tape.
Stimulated by the dense production ethic and clipped, sampled nature of hip-hop, the pair took the genre’s distinctive sound world and found unique approaches to apply it to their uncluttered pop sensibilities, Not Art pushes Big Scary further towards their next creative destination.
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