#46. Future Islands - Seasons (Waiting On You) (#23, 2014)
5th of 2014
I find it hard to escape my theory that Australian artists generally have a harder time being accepted overseas just because the discourse rejects them. The US & UK are so adamant about endorsing their own product that they soundly reject all comers at times. Simply put, it's a product of being so invested in your own produce that the sheer lack of supportive voices elsewhere heightens the sense of mediocrity. I'm used to hearing voices and opinions that are in the interest of talking up Australian artists, but Americans have no reason to care outside of the novelty of it. So frequently I see American pundits dismiss Silverchair outright with no consideration for their discography beyond the handful of songs that made it to their radio stations in the mid '90s. If they were a Canadian band, there might at least be enough conversation within earshot to acknowledge that there's something there even if it's a localised phenomenon, but there just aren't enough people batting for Silverchair whose words escape this continent.
I feel the same way about The Vines. Their role is just to be Australia's contribution to the early 2000s garage rock revival largely centred around New York and The Strokes. They're especially noted because at the time, when faced with the opportunity to highlight this scene, Rolling Stone magazine decided seemingly on a whim to give The Vines the front cover. The headline is 'Meet The Vines, Rock Is Back!' with The Strokes, The White Stripes & The Hives mentioned below. All bands that have remained popular for far longer, whereas The Vines are generally seen to have flamed out pretty quickly (although I remember continuing to hear their new music on triple j right into the 2010s). It's something that's easily branded as a failed experiment, or just a cynical ploy to manufacture another moment whose only gimmick is 'What if The Strokes were from Australia?'. Any hype or rave reviews for the band get disavowed as the general public largely abandoned them and turned it into a sinking ship. To acknowledge The Vines is the prelude to dismissing them and appearing erudite for doing so. Take that early 2000s rock media, I knew they were a sham and I'm happy to voice that opinion because I know nobody will go in to bat for them.
Maybe you can out me for having fallen for the local propaganda, but hearing about the band all throughout the 2000s, I was fully convinced that they were legends. I didn't know very many of their songs, but the few I did just cemented it completely. "Get Free" deserves to be in the same conversation as Blur's "Song 2" for accomplishing the same reckless energy in the form of an extremely catchy two minute song. I compared them to The Strokes just before, but it feels more like an image thing because they achieve a level of raucousness that The Strokes don't really approach. I get the same feeling from The Vines as I get from extremely unpolished SoundCloud musicians. Whatever attempt there is to rein the band in to be presentable is overtaken by the sheer chaos in the songwriting decisions. It's very rare that the songs aren't taking a backseat to the wild screaming that Craig Nicholls does on many of their songs, though they do polish things up later on. Once he was a young man, no one could understand. You will find some high profile defenders of The Vines though. Alex Turner, Kevin Parker & Brandon Flowers all strongly cite The Vines as an inspiration whether musically or for just making them want to make music themselves.
If The Vines are remembered for one thing in particular, it's how recklessly out of control Craig Nicholls was. It's something the media lapped up at the time, comparing him to Kurt Cobain and relishing the excitement of the moment. Things would go south around 2004 when their second album came out to little fanfare, and Craig's on stage antics took a step too far when he started berating the crowd and attacked a photographer. He was charged with assault, but had the case dropped after he was diagnosed with autism. That's the part that has me taken aback. He'd lived his whole life, gotten uprooted significantly by fame and didn't even know about his own diagnosis until his late 20s. Suddenly all of his outbursts and erratic behaviour make sense as he was put into the worst possible situation for someone like him. He's mentioned in interviews about how he's never really felt like he fits in but also with direct precision that music is the most important thing in his life. I feel it so much. Negative press for The Vines never stopped after this, and those same reckless tendencies they were once lauded for would see them derided. I've said it before here, but I can't stop thinking about how readily acceptable it is to mock people who are either on the spectrum, or come across as such. Not always directly, but through highlighting any irregular activity or perspective for the express purpose of getting other people to point and laugh at the abnormal individual. I've read enough articles today from journalists seemingly encouraging Craig to die young, or lamenting that he hasn't, that it's pretty clear the narrative is 'punch down now, lament later, learn nothing overall'.
Sorry, why did I spend so long talking about The Vines? Well they have one crucial thing in common with Future Islands. They both have a highly memorable performance on David Letterman's show that seemingly sets the tone for their whole reputation in an instant. For The Vines, they performed "Get Free" and it's not immediately unusual, but the further through the song they get, the more unhinged Craig's performance gets. It starts no longer resembling the actual song and increasingly fewer consonants get out of his mouth which looks glued to the microphone. At the end of the performance, he knocks over the drum kit and throws his guitar in that vicinity. You can see Hamish Rosser leave the set in frustration. In truth, the whole band was frustrated. What you see in the video is the result of having the band locked in the studio for a 10 hour day all so they can perform a two minute song. I enjoy the performance a lot, but it's very polarising.
For Future Islands, it's not quite as complicated. Letterman had so many artists perform over the years that it's largely going fade into the background as noise. Future Islands was the exception, as the performance was shared around so much that it's hard to argue with the notion that it singlehandedly made them into stars for a moment. Perhaps it was a trajectory they were slowly headed for (they had just signed with 4AD on that album), but it's hard to imagine them as anything more than niche indie darlings poised to put the 8.2 no BNM Pitchfork reviews in the bag. Instead they got millions of views, an album that charted in the top 40 in America, and a single that went Gold.
There's a good chance you already know about it, but the performance is always worth going back to. You get to see Sam Herring standing out in his tucked in shirt and short hairline absolutely seizing the moment. First it's the casual dance moves, then he starts beating his chest and occasionally growling out his performance. Switching between all of these on a dime but doing it with such assured confidence that he pulls it off. It's one thing to look at it as a band taking the most of their opportunity and shooting their shot, but I feel he just absorbs himself into the moment, lets down his inhibitions and relishes in the moment. I can't help but be in awe, as someone whose own performance opportunities have tended to see me shy away from being myself and desperately trying to keep in line. With that in mind, I love seeing praise for this sort of thing, opening up the world to the idea that we can be ourselves and be lauded for it. It's something you can put on the good pile opposite the very large bad pile where these things don't quite work out like that.
The clearest validation of all this is the fact that I'm talking about it at all. Maybe it's an early incarnation of something that could blow up in the 2020s, but nothing about Future Islands feels like crossover potential was ever on the cards. Their whole aesthetic just flies against anything that could be considered trendy. You generally need to appeal to the kids because they're the ones more likely to actually try out new bands, having not gotten their fill already. Everything about them feels so world-weary that it's just hard to imagine it ever happening on its own. Would you believe me if I said that Sam Herring was only 29 when this song came out? The band were on their 4th album and had been around the track plenty of times by now.
It helps that "Seasons (Waiting On You)" is so hard to deny. I latched onto it not long after the performance and got around it, but it wasn't until around the end of the year when the song really solidified itself for me. It's right around End of Year list season and very likely what prompted me to give the song another run. What can you say to fault it? The opening synth stabs feel iconic at this point, and much of the emotional heft still carries through on the record. The song balances its light guitar noodling with the big release that comes on the song's chorus and it feels like you're getting the best of both worlds. The whole thing feels so universal. Lines like 'People change, and some people never do is so simple, but the heft of the delivery evokes so much. They say that the song is about the weight of past experiences and the potential trauma that stays with you, but I can't help but see it as the light at the end of the tunnel. All the emphasis on where you've arrived, and the catharsis it provides.






