Late Arvo Sons

Like fellow Frankstonians Eddy Current Suppression Ring, Late Arvo Sons bash out an infectious brand of rock’n’roll with a simple message: get off your arse. Words by TIM SCOTT, with Tote front bar photos by DANNY YOUNG.

Late Arvo Sons are the proud products of their surroundings: the rough and tumble of Melbourne bayside suburbs Frankston and Chelsea. Many of the songs from their debut record, Letters From Another Alphabet, reflect growing up in Melbourne’s south under the gulls and grime. ‘Intrusion’, for example, with its opening line, “Let our sun pretend to set in the west/Deep inside Port Phillip’s depths”, is about singer Mark Lording’s earliest memories of swimming with his father in Chelsea.

“I’d go swimming with my dad and wig out when I saw the sun setting into the bay,” he recalls. “I’d think it was disappearing into the water. But it was just an illusion like it says in the lyrics. Wanky metaphor or not it comes to mean how your mind can fuck you up too.”

Since forming in mid-2007, The Late Arvo Sons – Lording, drummer Stuart Reynolds, bassist/guitarist Brett “Frosty” Frost and guitarist Kent Thomas (a Kiwi they managed to ring in) – have slowly built a respectable following with their driving melodic rock that brings to mind the gruff melodies of Guttersnipes and mid-era Hüsker Dü. Sitting in the beer garden of the iconic Tote Hotel, a venue they have played on numerous occasions, the band reflect on their beginnings.

“We never imagined back when we started that we’d end up with a CD,” says Thomas, examining a copy of their debut album which they picked up only a few hours earlier. “I mean when Stu and I just started out we were playing Pennywise covers,” he jokes.

“I remember when Stu asked me if I wanted to come down and have a sing,” adds Lording. “He was pissed one night, I think it was at an Eddy Current rooftop film launch. I said, ‘Why not?’, but I remember those early practices and I was nervous as shit.

“I was actually surprised you even turned up to be honest,” continues Reynolds. “It was just a drunk, random, ‘Do you wanna do it?’ kind of conversation. I’m glad you turned up.”

The band practiced for six months before landing their first gig upstairs at the Tote’s Cobra Bar on a sweltering night. “People couldn’t hack it. They’d go up for a bit then have to come down,” says Frost. “They wouldn’t open the back door and everyone was just dying. It was pretty uncomfortable but that’s how we like making people feel.”

As for the band’s name, Lording says it was taken from – you guessed it – the beaches of Melbourne’s south. “I was at work one day – I work as a concreter – and it was pretty late in the day. I was working near the beach and I said to my boss Johnny, ‘Oh, how nice is the late arvo sun?’ And then I was like, ‘Oh fuck, is that too cheesy for a band name?’”

There’s nothing cheesy, however, about the band’s straight-up rock sound. Like their good friends and fellow Frankstonians Eddy Current Suppression Ring, the four-piece bash out a moving and lurching brand of rock’n’roll that’s infectious in its simplicity. “We don’t know what style of music we play and that’s the way we like it,” says Frost. “We all have different music tastes and influences. Somehow it all melts together and comes out as Late Arvo Sons. It’s just good fun.”

“We don’t know what style of music we play and that’s the way we like it. We all have different music tastes and influences. Somehow it all melts together and comes out as Late Arvo Sons.”

Thomas even sees some similarities between the small New Zealand town he grew up in and the beachside suburb he now calls home – except for one small difference. “Well, we didn’t have that many smackies,” he jokes. “The town I grew up in had no music scene. It wasn’t until I came to Melbourne that I realised that a bunch of bands could all play and support each other.”

The Late Arvo Sons have slotted in nicely with a bunch of like-minded bands who also happen to be mates including The Chinese Burns, The Trophy Wives, Super Wild Horses, The Twerps and, of course, Eddy Current. “I met Kent and Stu through [ECSR singer] Brendan [Huntley], because Stu is a high school mate of his,” says Lording. “And I met Frosty because he was [ECSR guitarist] Mikey [Young’s] best mate.”

The Tote being the Tote, Young – who recorded the band’s newly pressed debut – wanders out into the beer garden by chance and joins us at the table. I take the opportunity to ask him how the recording went. “Pretty easy,” he says. “They bought me Indian and some beers and so for me it was pretty cool. Besides some electrical hiccups that you get at [Melbourne recording studio] Revolver on a stormy day, it was fine.”

For someone who seems like a regular knockabout bloke who works in concrete and enjoys a beer and surfing with his mates, Lording writes and sings with a surprising amount of emotion. ‘Northern Nightmare’ – the album’s last song and one that the band usually end their set with – tells of a nasty break up: “Please refrain from caving in my chest,” he sings. “Northern nightmare in her only dress/My ribs exposed you left an awful mess.” It’s not the kind of stuff you’d hear from a regular outside Frankston’s Pelly Bar on a Friday night.

“At the time when I wrote that I was fucking angry,” Lording explains. “Even though I’m well passed it. It’s a love song as well as a hate song. I’ve moved on and I no longer have that anger but when I play it, it still means something to me. And even for the other guys, the way the song goes with the guitar, it’s really powerful and they get into it as well.”

Thomas agrees. “In terms of the lyrical content everyone can relate to a break-up. Also, it’s one of our more complete songs I guess, I mean musically, lyrically. It’s as complete as we are going to get.”

Lording is also an artist and illustrator, and much of his work is inspired by the day-to-day minutiae of Melbourne's outer burbs. Bogans, drunks and the monotony of waiting for a delayed city-bound train are themes that inject his work with a gritty sense of realism. He’s also a member of the Serps, a loose collection of designers, photographers, musicians and tattooists, who celebrate the collaborative nature of art. “We are not as tight as say a graffiti crew or anything, but we are all in some way creative,” he says. “We have somehow managed to band together … [and] feed off each other’s energy. We put on shows and help each other out.”

The Serps connection is evident on their first full-length, Letter From Another Alphabet. Serps co-founder Tristan Ceddia designed the artwork while member Danny Young (Eddy Current’s drummer), took the album photo of the band playing in the Tote’s front bar. “With the Serps we tend to collaborate but the bottom line is everyone is mates,” Lording explains. “It's a great network. It’s not secretive at all, but we are pretty tight.”

Whether it’s playing music, painting, surfing or taking photos, Late Arvo Sons are all about keeping busy. Their song ‘Skin’, which the band recently shot a video for, advocates stepping outside of your suburban comfort zone.

“Basically you are only here for a short time so get out there and do something,” Lording says. “Alternatively you can be one of those guys who works nine to five, goes home, eats some dinner, sits on the couch, drinks a beer and goes to bed. I don’t want to be one of those dudes. So many of my mates who I grew up with have ended up like that. It’s about stepping outside that suburban comfort zone, whether it’s music or something creative or even sport. Just do something.”

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Late Arvo Sons will launch Letters From Another Alphabet at The Birmingham Hotel in Melbourne on September 12. Supports by Chinese Burns, Trophy Wives and Lost Burros.