Today’s playlist comes from one of Syndey, Australia’s hardest-working bands: Death Bells. Each member of the catchy, dance-y, goth pop band shared a few tracks, and as a bonus, we have some pictures from the road courtesy of photographer Samuel Shepherd. Enjoy!
–Dave Lucas, Talkhouse Marketing Manager
Remy Veselis (Guitarist)
HTRK – “Chinatown Style”
HTRK’s latest, Psychic 9-5 Club, was on constant rotation while we were on our way to a shitty motel, or whilst I was getting ready to sleep on the floor of a gracious stranger who had housed us for the night. I like to listen to music that isn’t too busy in the late-night hours, that can take me into my own world. Death Bells have always wanted to escape Australia and go live and record elsewhere overseas, which is what HTRK did when they moved to Germany and toured Europe. They proved that an independent Australian band can become successful overseas and are a bit of an inspiration for me in doing what we did on this tour and hopefully in the future moving overseas.
Draa – “Losing My Charm”
I have been borderline obsessed with Draa ever since Brian Cole, the founder of Funeral Party Records, passed “Losing My Charm” my way. I love that their UK guitar-pop sound belies their origins in the Sonoran desert in Arizona. Listening to “Losing My Charm” whilst we drove through the desert in New Mexico will be moment I will never forget.
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry – “Talk About the Weather”
After the tour finished, we stayed around New York for a few weeks to recharge, relax and begin working on an LP. We were weary after our long journey driving up the West Coast, down to Phoenix, then across to the East Coast, and I wanted some new music to listen to. Brian Cole passed the post-punk band Red Lorry Yellow Lorry on to me. I spent the new two weeks or so in New York walking around during the day, playing basketball here and there, and constantly listening to this song and their first album Talk About the Weather. The band were from Leeds, England ,where I lived in 2014, and the jarring guitar sound that this band used resonated with me over most of other post-punk bands I listen to. Coincidentally, during this time in New York, it was unbearably hot and everyone would not stop talking about the weather.
Maurice Santiago (Singer/Guitarist)
Vic Chesnutt – “Flirted with You All My Life”
It doesn’t get more earth-shatteringly honest and emotional than this. This is the song I’d listen to driving overnight or really early in the morning when everyone was asleep. Driving from Arizona to Indianapolis on a showless stint was the worst part of the whole trip. I was really depressed throughout the whole tour and this song was that cathartic exercise that gets you to the next day. It was really hard being away from my loved ones chasing a dream that at times seemed futile and unachievable. Sometimes, when morale was low, it was hard to keep going, but listening to Vic Chestnutt instilled in me that everything in life is bleak and in the end we are just waiting to die so you need to be ready for that. The tour for me was making the most of right now in the least clichéd way possible, so that I’d regret nothing when it’s my time to die.
Will Canning (Singer/Synths)
Blood Orange – “Champagne Coast”
A catchy, simple love song. We bumped this one heaps in the van during a hard stretch from Richmond, Virginia, to Washington, DC. As we arrived at the Australian Embassy and passed through security to vote (the Australian federal election coincided with our tour) I had that hook (“Come to my bedroom, come to my bedroom”) stuck in my head. The night prior we had stayed in an abandoned house with a stray cat that had defecated everywhere. We had to lock ourselves in a room to avoid the smell and the Four Loko-fueled party downstairs.
Eurogliders – “Heaven (Must Be There)”
Maurice, and our old housemate Jarryd, put me onto this song. I’d never heard it as a child but on first listen, it evoked a really nostalgic feeling. It’s quintessentially Australian, themed around escapism and a search for something greater. When Maurice and I were strung out in suburban Chicago at 6 a.m., we played this off our phones to a group of strangers we had met that night. I’m not sure that they really liked the song so much, but I was happy just to hear it.
(Photo credit: Samuel Shepherd)