JIM MCCULLOUGH OF CIVIC

Building upon their previous two releases, Future Forecast and Taken By Force, Aussie four-piece Civic return with their latest record Chrome Dipped. Pioneering new sounds and directions whilst still retaining their true rock essence, lead singer Jim McCullough shares with Musicology his thoughts on the new album and upcoming support slot with the Sex Pistols.

Championing the Australian sound, what stylistic points do you draw upon when crafting your signature sound?

Traditionally, we’ve always leant into the 70’s Australian sound. It maybe stemmed from this idea of not wanting to let it die out or slip through the fingers or something, or maybe it was an exhumation. Either way, that’s what we set out to use as a launching pad. Countdown.

I think it’s almost impossible to not have your own style when you create art. Maybe that’s a bit romantic of all individuals, but I think that for most artists, no matter what you do, your own style will inevitably come out in your work. One of my teachers at art school taught me that in my first year. I think that there’s a beauty and maybe a curse in knowing that no matter what you do creatively, you’ll always inherently have your style in it. Somehow.

Our sound could be described as whatever you like, punk, rock, post punk etc etc, I’m even hearing people link the new single to 90’s stuff like Nirvana or Smashing Pumpkins, which I'm not mad about; but ultimately it is just true to us because we made it. It's our style, because we were open to finding it within ourselves and spewing it out into the world, a vomituous beauty in all its guts and glory.

What is the overarching theme running throughout the record?

I don’t like the idea of neatly wrapping a record in a bow with a theme, song by song you’ll definitely find your own adventure. Hopefully. Although during the time of writing this record I was in quite the transitional period in my life, lots of change was washing over me, tidal wave after tidal wave. Ill family members, resulting in many deaths within my immediate family, new relationships, the juggle was almost unbearable. But I learnt to exist in the chaos as we say, and I spent hours and hours writing in the old library in the middle of the city on Elizabeth St. Sitting just above Ned Kelly’s preserved armour I used memory. I was writing the same way I normally do to structure the songs, by setting up a kind of scene or landscape. Evoking Imagery, some imaginative and some from experience. Lots of these new songs have my mother in mind, yes. But not wholly about the idea of loss; there are still notions of hope, fear, nihilism, love, addiction, trajectory, and ghost.

What lessons did you take from your previous albums that fed into the direction Chrome Dipped?

There's always lessons you learn within any creative process, sometimes they show themselves on the spot or sometimes they come in reflection. And in music as the artist, you will most likely listen back in despair, at least at some point on the record anyway. Not to say that really ever happened for me on this new album, I walked away feeling like I was in a good place. We all did.

Preparation is always an interesting thing in recording music. I guess that’s a lesson we learnt a while ago, is to keep some mystery. Don’t walk in thinking you’ve got it all worked out, you have to allow room for free expression, fuck ups, blow ups, etc. It's all part of it and most of the time the beauty of it all is really in the process. It’s like, when you record something you're ultimately trying to capture that spark that made you all prick your ears in the jam. It's a version of that initial buzz. And that’s what a “Take”I is. It's pulverising yourselves into the ground as many times as you need to to get as close to that feeling as you can.

In what ways did you want to push the sonic boundaries on this, your third release?

On Chrome Dipped we wanted to go as big as we could. We had an amazing studio at our hands and an amazing engineer (Chris Townsend) at its command. We were all open to bringing some new sounds sonically to the band in general, so that was a great place to start sketching out ideas. For Lewis there was a big change in the way he played guitar, he’d put away his Japanese Mustang knock off and replaced it with a white Strat. He liked the idea of this kind of stock, unicorn. It was pretty exciting to see him play this thing in a whole new way. Some friends argued that in fact that’s always the way he played, and he taught himself the other style that’s on our earlier records. So maybe he’s come home.

You brought the wildcat Kirin J. Callinan in to produce the record, and in what ways do you feel that his signature touch is imprinted on the new album?

We went into the studio down in Tasmania with a demo tape of the album that we had made from iPhone. It was raw in all the good places and was enough of a sketch for us of getting the songs to a point where we were happy to take them into the frying pan. We sent them to Kirin via emails, but he told us when he arrived he had not listened to them at all and wanted to have fresh ears. He’d got straight off the plane from LA and straight into a week with us. It was pretty special watching him and Lewis work together. They would have these pedal sessions finding all sorts of tones and making the most obscure sounds from a guitar I’ve ever heard. Kirin on his hands and knees mashing pedals looking up at Lewis egging him on, nudging him to the edge seeing how would quit first and Lewis playing the guitar like some kind of dance between him someone/something.

For me, Kirin helped me vocally a lot. He pushed me into areas where I really doubted myself but I’d committed wholeheartedly in his approach so I surrendered. Some songs I felt like I was really at the limit of my capacity, which was a nice and scary place to be at.

I would say that his signature is on the record in the sense that he brought a kind of sparkle to it all, we fed off his energy and willingness to push the boat out.

Before heading to North America and Europe, you will be playing a string of Australian shows, including support for The Sex Pistols. Is that something of a bookend moment in terms of where you are at in your careers and playing alongside punk-pioneering royalty?

You know I was talking to my father about how you manage success recently, like what’s the scale look like. Is it on a monetary basis, Instagram follows, etc. When we got asked to do this tour I imagined I was 13 and I came to myself as the now me in the mirror and said “listen up little Jimmy James, you’ve got a big gig with the big wigs the Sex Pistols when you’re older, so don’t fark it up” and thought to myself, you know what I am proud of this shit we do and where its taken us so far. Hard work and passion plays a big part in all that we do, and sharing a stage with a band who’s been there since day dot, only gives me courage and a reminder to keep this thing going, coz its always going to resonate with someone out there and its always gonna piss someone off and that I like.

In terms of your stagecraft, what is it that you try to bring that pays homage to artists you have been inspired by and also adds to your own flare, which makes your live performances unique?

For me, the stage is a place where you can put yourself on hold. It's a place where I can get into an almost automated mindset. Some shows are more intense than others, and sometimes, if I really get swept up in it all when I get off, it can take me a moment to come back to reality. Rob Younger (Radio Birdman) said to me once that he never wore earplugs because he liked to be amongst the chaos, and try and sing above it. I like this idea, existing in chaos. I apply this madness to a few aspects of my life, like traffic jams or being in a busy airport.

I've always looked up to performers who have an almost animalistic approach to their craft. Like watching a ragged animal that’s chained to the mic chord, antagonising the crowd but at the same time showing a kind of submission or tenderness. But it's also the battleground, it's a place where you can face some of your biggest demons sometimes. And every time I get up there, it's the same feeling, its “ok this is it”. Not that’s its even “your big moment” it's more militant than that. You’re committed and you're gonna give it your all.