Track By Track: Ivy St

Described as more “gloom-pop” than their previous post-punk, ‘Courting’ is the second album from Hobart-formed Melbourne trio Ivy St. Below, guitarist/vocalist THOMAS HYLAND reflects on the dangers of overworking songs and adjusting his beer orders for mainland Australia.

‘1980’

This song was originally quite different. We were trying to do something that was not working. We embarrassed ourselves by playing a truly fucked-up rendition of it at a show in Hobart before cutting it in half and changing the mood. Best to stick to one chord. The final cut is a psych-inspired rant about dependencies on love or sex or money or jobs or anything that you feel you need to leave but for whatever reason you don’t. Inertia.

‘Glenorchy’

I think Pat [Hatch, bass] spearheaded the music for ‘Glenorchy; with this Twin Peaks-inspired bass line. From there we had a mood and went about constructing one of the few ‘songs’ we’ve ever written. It may have been from all the Lee Hazlewood we were listening to at the time.

I think I was mostly writing about the romanticising of our first sharehouse in Hobart. All the standard shenanigans. Of course it was awesome, but it turned into a pretty fucking exhausting place. Everyone was either on the dole, finishing uni, driving taxis through the night or starting work at 4am. The entire house was on a completely different clock so it became quite confusing to know the difference between morning and night.

‘A Minute’s Notice’

Perhaps the oldest song on the album. Originally there was three or four more verses but ultimately I don’t think anyone really cares how many shit jobs you have before you figure it out. I was trying to write about the frustration, but also the vanity of not looking like you are what you want to be.

‘Calamity’

By this stage we had an idea of what the album was looking like. This one is a bit different though. In some ways ‘Calamity’ reminds me of ‘There’s a Whole Lot More that Waits’ [from 2009’s Picture Machine] but this time around the music has the most amount optimism you’ll ever hear in an Ivy song. Robert Fisher yelled out “That’s your best song!” after we played it to him at the Old Bar. I disagree.

‘Courting for the Morning’

Oh man, it’s the simple idea you gotta be careful with. Ivy St is pretty much an equal-thirds democracy. Ideas work when we’re all excited about them. The flipside is that if we aren’t all excited we can pull in different directions and we slowly grind a once-great idea till it’s the worst kind of nothing. It’s exhausting and we’ve often worked for months and had nothing to show for it. Of this song, I am just so very proud we didn’t fuck it up. Just play guitar like Ben from Drunk Elk and just sit on the rhythm.

It’s pretty disgusting. The song is basically about objectifying women and turning your entire social network into ‘The Game’. Try not to Google it too deeply or you’ll end up in some private forum lapping up Tyler whilst listening to hypnotica, writing your best negs down for later. It’s fucked up.

‘The Bartender’

I think it was the last song we wrote for the album. Obviously it’s about music, drinking and a vain attempt to shift the focus off oneself. The more we play it live, the longer the song gets too. Chris [Campbell, drums] has an idea of how it should go in the future and often refers to it as ‘the lord’s prayer’. Who knows why?

‘The Camera’s Pierce’

This one had a few lives. We wrote a version of it together but ended up scrapping it months before going into the studio. I liked what I was writing about though, so kept playing with it. Something about the meaning inferred from how things look when you focus on them. I was kinda thinking about the sad, creepy idea of someone stalking your Facebook photos, reaching their own conclusions by filling in the story of each.

Just before heading to the studio we had a thought that maybe the album would benefit from a song that wasn’t as angry-white-male as the rest. I think we rehearsed it twice and then hit record.

‘Carmel Keeps a Bucket’

Hmmm … bit of a nasty song. I went to a school camp in early primary school and had some anxiety about just how humiliating it would be to wet the bed. The idea of being worried about what your body will do against your will. I didn’t wet the bed. I instead threw up in it. What a hero! Anyhow, we tried to great an evil carnival feel. It’s fun song to play live, though we mostly reserve it for the debaucherous shows.

‘Ten Ounces in the Sticks’

I’m really happy with this song. Much like ‘Courting for the Morning’, I think if it we had tinkered with it for much longer we would have ruined it. It was a pleasure to write actually. Chris and Pat wrote the bones of the music in an instant.

Around about the same time I had starting to feel like my ‘Tasmanian identity’ was slipping away from me. I’d reluctantly began to ask for a ‘pot’ instead of ‘ten ounce’ at pubs, as most bar staff didn’t under what I was saying. It was more of a habit than a stance, but for some reason the change felt like a concession.

It’s fucking stupid too. The words ‘pot’ and ‘pint’ are way too close to each other to scream at a loud bar. Anyhow, the song isn’t about beer.

‘Nearest Container’

The thing worth focusing on in this song is Chris’ drumming at the end. He keeps his place for another year.

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‘Courting’ is out now independently on digital and limited vinyl, with cover art by Robert O’Connor. Launch tour dates below.

Sat, April 26 – The Metro, Adelaide, SA
Fri, May 2 – The John Curtin Hotel, Melbourne, VIC
Thurs, May 15 – The Croatian Club, Newcastle, NSW
Fri, May 16 – The Square, Sydney, NSW
Sat, May 17 – Trainspotters, Brisbane, QLD
Sat, June 14 – Frankie’s Empire, Hobart, TAS