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Track by Track:
The Smallgoods - Lost in the Woods
The Smallgoods - Lost in the Woods
Back with their first album in 14 years, Melbourne indie-pop champions The Smallgoods returned last week with Lost in the Woods, a bright and playful venture through their signature 70’s pop-tinged wonderland. To celebrate the new release, we caught up with the band to get a breakdown of the album.
It’s been a long time coming, but on Lost in the Woods, The Smallgoods’ third full-length album since their 2003 debut, the group are back with vibrant energy and fresh ideas. Across these ten tracks, the quartet have cultivated their eccentric pop style with their eye for imagination and charismatic story telling, leading us on an adventure of technicolored absurdity, intertwined with deeper messages from the real world.
The record kicks off with the dreamy vocals and bouncing keys of ‘The Hours’, that sound perfectly fitted to a comically melancholic disco bar, and immediately, the band’s animated lyrics set the scene for what’s yet to come across the album. Next along we’re immersed in the groovy guitar work and lively percussion of ‘Where You’ve Been All This Time’, the track painting a scene fit for the movies; with a scent of perfume, a troublesome figure employs the art of deception under a naïve sun.
The third single off the album, ‘On With The Show,’ comes as the sequel to This is the Show from their 2004 EP of the same name, a vivid example of the band’s ability to use music to paint comedic offbeat scenes. Built around a bubbling groove with a gloriously retro electric keyboard stealing the limelight as the band serve up plenty of pop hooks, it’s an album highlight that’s as joyous as it is nostalgic. On the other hand, ‘Satellite’ takes a slightly different approach as undertones of rock merge with pop to create this cosmic tale swimming in a sky of political mayhem, but with a clip that begins in the bush and results in trippy galactic psychedelia, it’s just as playful.
The album progresses with a mirage of lively sounds over this ten-track piece, journeying into realms that flirt at the edges of what we’d usually expect from The Smallgood’s indie-pop sound. Subdued by the trance-like state of what feels like endless depression, ‘A Month of Sundays’ featuring Janita Foley, is drawn from drummer and producer Gus Franklin’s guitar/dream-pop writing style of the 90s, before the album rounds out with ‘The Last Red Sunday’ and the title track which circle back on the band’s undeniable pop-smarts to wrap up the listen with a playfully emotive finale.
Lost in the Woods is a real flavoursome comeback, and we had the pleasure of having The Smallgoods let us in on the stories behind each track.
The record kicks off with the dreamy vocals and bouncing keys of ‘The Hours’, that sound perfectly fitted to a comically melancholic disco bar, and immediately, the band’s animated lyrics set the scene for what’s yet to come across the album. Next along we’re immersed in the groovy guitar work and lively percussion of ‘Where You’ve Been All This Time’, the track painting a scene fit for the movies; with a scent of perfume, a troublesome figure employs the art of deception under a naïve sun.
The third single off the album, ‘On With The Show,’ comes as the sequel to This is the Show from their 2004 EP of the same name, a vivid example of the band’s ability to use music to paint comedic offbeat scenes. Built around a bubbling groove with a gloriously retro electric keyboard stealing the limelight as the band serve up plenty of pop hooks, it’s an album highlight that’s as joyous as it is nostalgic. On the other hand, ‘Satellite’ takes a slightly different approach as undertones of rock merge with pop to create this cosmic tale swimming in a sky of political mayhem, but with a clip that begins in the bush and results in trippy galactic psychedelia, it’s just as playful.
The album progresses with a mirage of lively sounds over this ten-track piece, journeying into realms that flirt at the edges of what we’d usually expect from The Smallgood’s indie-pop sound. Subdued by the trance-like state of what feels like endless depression, ‘A Month of Sundays’ featuring Janita Foley, is drawn from drummer and producer Gus Franklin’s guitar/dream-pop writing style of the 90s, before the album rounds out with ‘The Last Red Sunday’ and the title track which circle back on the band’s undeniable pop-smarts to wrap up the listen with a playfully emotive finale.
Lost in the Woods is a real flavoursome comeback, and we had the pleasure of having The Smallgoods let us in on the stories behind each track.
The Hours
Lachlan: A song for me Mum. I mean, Aerosmith said it best, but this is about staring into the eyes of someone you love more than life itself as they disappear from view forever. But at the same time, celebrating the beauty of existence, and seeing life as the best holiday a person could embark upon, before returning to the drudgery and mundaneness of non-existence. And the fact that I wouldn’t give away the experience of those final moments for anything.
Where’ve You Been All This Time
Ben & Lachlan: We had a song on our first record called ‘Good Afternoon’ which told the tale of a predatory travelling salesman that went from house to house seducing housewives. This song is a response to that song, where the salesman finally gets caught and arrested. Features some pretty hot bongo work by Gus.
On With The Show
Gus: This song is a response to our old song ‘This Is The Show.’ I was deeply into 10cc and the kooky-dry esoteric keyboard-based songwriting and production style of the 1970s when we were making this record, so I think that vibe definitely got in there on this one. The protagonist in the song is a washed-up, once successful music person now singing in a regional piano bar bistro under the din of diners who really don’t care. The video concept for this song included a Don Music meets Guy Smiley puppet with an all you can eat salad bar that starts singing along in the chorus like a psychedelic Chuck-E-Cheese animatronic puppet-show.
I really wanted to get Ashley Naylor on this one to do a weird stuck-wah/guitar-synth type solo, but then in the process of demoing the idea, the moog part came out and I really liked it, so it just kind of stuck. Maybe Ashley can guest on it if we ever play a show (together) again?
Satellite
Lachlan: The first single from the album. The basic melody and chords to ‘Satellite’ were written over a decade ago, and is something of a tribute to the incredible Jason Falkner song ‘Untitled’. Lyrically, it came together when I woke up one of the mornings we were recording the album in Sassafras, and is a reaction to the fucked state of Western politics at that time: all cult-of-personality guff and lack of direction in the face of deadly serious existential threats. A tale of doing the best to eke out a worthwhile existence on a diminishing planet, hiding away from the sun and living under skies so full of space junk they blot out the stars. Uplifting stuff.
On the other hand, we had a great time filming the video clip to this song at the You Yangs. A couple of starving Gold Rush era squatter types get buzzed literally and figuratively by a geometrically obsessed UFO. My type of content. The solo is ripped from Nirvana.
Lachlan: A song for me Mum. I mean, Aerosmith said it best, but this is about staring into the eyes of someone you love more than life itself as they disappear from view forever. But at the same time, celebrating the beauty of existence, and seeing life as the best holiday a person could embark upon, before returning to the drudgery and mundaneness of non-existence. And the fact that I wouldn’t give away the experience of those final moments for anything.
Where’ve You Been All This Time
Ben & Lachlan: We had a song on our first record called ‘Good Afternoon’ which told the tale of a predatory travelling salesman that went from house to house seducing housewives. This song is a response to that song, where the salesman finally gets caught and arrested. Features some pretty hot bongo work by Gus.
On With The Show
Gus: This song is a response to our old song ‘This Is The Show.’ I was deeply into 10cc and the kooky-dry esoteric keyboard-based songwriting and production style of the 1970s when we were making this record, so I think that vibe definitely got in there on this one. The protagonist in the song is a washed-up, once successful music person now singing in a regional piano bar bistro under the din of diners who really don’t care. The video concept for this song included a Don Music meets Guy Smiley puppet with an all you can eat salad bar that starts singing along in the chorus like a psychedelic Chuck-E-Cheese animatronic puppet-show.
I really wanted to get Ashley Naylor on this one to do a weird stuck-wah/guitar-synth type solo, but then in the process of demoing the idea, the moog part came out and I really liked it, so it just kind of stuck. Maybe Ashley can guest on it if we ever play a show (together) again?
Satellite
Lachlan: The first single from the album. The basic melody and chords to ‘Satellite’ were written over a decade ago, and is something of a tribute to the incredible Jason Falkner song ‘Untitled’. Lyrically, it came together when I woke up one of the mornings we were recording the album in Sassafras, and is a reaction to the fucked state of Western politics at that time: all cult-of-personality guff and lack of direction in the face of deadly serious existential threats. A tale of doing the best to eke out a worthwhile existence on a diminishing planet, hiding away from the sun and living under skies so full of space junk they blot out the stars. Uplifting stuff.
On the other hand, we had a great time filming the video clip to this song at the You Yangs. A couple of starving Gold Rush era squatter types get buzzed literally and figuratively by a geometrically obsessed UFO. My type of content. The solo is ripped from Nirvana.
Hurry Up & Slow Down
Ben: My wife and I were heading down the Ocean Road for the weekend to celebrate my birthday. We were joking the whole way about how we needed to get there as quickly as possible so we could slow down and relax. She made a hilarious suggestion that we should pick up the following day’s newspaper on our way so we could just stay in bed the next morning and do the crossword with a cup of tea. I think I wrote the song the next morning before she woke up.
The Mirror
Gus: This song feels like an epic journey, and it felt like that to make and mix it too! This one was written as a response by Lachlan & Ben to the Down On The Farm epic ‘City Full of Sky’.
Lachlan: Narcissus gets a guernsey here, the unfortunately oblivious victim of a seriously crook paradise.
Gus: The production features Donza on his homemade DZ3 Modular System, pan pipes and a pitched down cockatoo recording, an old gate, Sassafras’ own answer to the Predator, a synth-string section and a stretched-out Wilhelm Scream for the trainspotters.
A Month Of Sundays
Gus: This is the first of two duets we worked on with guest Smallgood - Janita Foley from Denim Owl. The song is drawn from the 'Teen Dream' canon of noisy guitar/dream-pop songs that I started writing in the late 90s, and revels in the melancholy bliss of a period of deep depression that feels like an endless string of Sundays (that day of the week where everything feels like it’s ending/beginning again and you could just walk off into the sunset forever).
It's a cautionary and nostalgic slice of memory, digging up imagery of long coastal walks-west by the roaring southern ocean, life in a small town, and pairing up with your ethereal soul-mate in dreams to help each other through tough times. And as a cookie, the song samples past Smallgoods classic 'Baby Grand,' while also making close references to both 'Listen to The Radio,' and 'Spending The Morning.'
Settle Down
Ben: I had this song kicking around for a long time. It didn’t really suit anything I was working on until we started writing new Smallgoods material, then it made total sense. It’s got serious Teenage Fanclub vibes and is all about when my wife and I started seeing each other, which was at the peak of the Smallgoods’ rise to world domination. Definitely evokes that time for me.
The Last Red Sunday (Fanfare)
Gus: This song was demoed way back for Down On The Farm and forms part of that albums’ narrative theme whereby a protagonist moves to the country to escape life in the city, and this song delves a little deeper into the possible reasons for that move. The isolated narrator, having possibly spent too much time alone at this point, starts recalling memories of the past, but then has hallucinations and starts to question his judgement and reasons for leaving in the first place. A ghost (or is it just the voice in his head?) joins in with his questioning and urges him to leave the farmhouse, but a deeper, more beautiful and destructive finale is brewing in his mind...
Josie and Bridget Graham played the sweeping violin and cellos on the finale of this track and Patrick McMullin plays the ‘Last Red Sunday Fanfare’ on multiple trumpets. When finishing this song I started to get really worried that it sounded like that song from Four Weddings & A Funeral, but then I had to just embrace things in order to finish it up... put on a shocking suit, grow a ponytail and a disgusting soul patch and just be three times as wet as I regularly am...
Lost in the Woods
Gus: When Ben and Lachy told me they were writing new Smallgoods songs together for a new album, I think this was the first thing that came out of my brain in response. It felt a bit like a sequel to one of our earlier songs, ‘Traipse Thru The Valley’, but also some kind of ending. Ben immediately commented on that feeling and from then on we always had it placed as the last song on the record. I was thinking about the line (from ‘Traipse’); “down long winding roads that nobody knows with dust-leaden bows,” and really wanted to re-create that drooping-eucalyptus and dappled-sunlight-catching-dust-between-branches-in-the-bush-on-a-sunny-afternoon feeling that you get when walking in the bush on country, but also the cold, dank and wet feeling of winters in the bush when you’re surrounded by those towering tree-spirits and everything is telling you to lie down and be absorbed by the understory of the forest. Sassafras in late winter really bled into this song, and in response, Matt Walker seemed like the perfect mountain-folk to get involved in portraying that drooping/dripping quality eucalyptus bushland with his bendy, dusty slide-guitar tones.
Ben: My wife and I were heading down the Ocean Road for the weekend to celebrate my birthday. We were joking the whole way about how we needed to get there as quickly as possible so we could slow down and relax. She made a hilarious suggestion that we should pick up the following day’s newspaper on our way so we could just stay in bed the next morning and do the crossword with a cup of tea. I think I wrote the song the next morning before she woke up.
The Mirror
Gus: This song feels like an epic journey, and it felt like that to make and mix it too! This one was written as a response by Lachlan & Ben to the Down On The Farm epic ‘City Full of Sky’.
Lachlan: Narcissus gets a guernsey here, the unfortunately oblivious victim of a seriously crook paradise.
Gus: The production features Donza on his homemade DZ3 Modular System, pan pipes and a pitched down cockatoo recording, an old gate, Sassafras’ own answer to the Predator, a synth-string section and a stretched-out Wilhelm Scream for the trainspotters.
A Month Of Sundays
Gus: This is the first of two duets we worked on with guest Smallgood - Janita Foley from Denim Owl. The song is drawn from the 'Teen Dream' canon of noisy guitar/dream-pop songs that I started writing in the late 90s, and revels in the melancholy bliss of a period of deep depression that feels like an endless string of Sundays (that day of the week where everything feels like it’s ending/beginning again and you could just walk off into the sunset forever).
It's a cautionary and nostalgic slice of memory, digging up imagery of long coastal walks-west by the roaring southern ocean, life in a small town, and pairing up with your ethereal soul-mate in dreams to help each other through tough times. And as a cookie, the song samples past Smallgoods classic 'Baby Grand,' while also making close references to both 'Listen to The Radio,' and 'Spending The Morning.'
Settle Down
Ben: I had this song kicking around for a long time. It didn’t really suit anything I was working on until we started writing new Smallgoods material, then it made total sense. It’s got serious Teenage Fanclub vibes and is all about when my wife and I started seeing each other, which was at the peak of the Smallgoods’ rise to world domination. Definitely evokes that time for me.
The Last Red Sunday (Fanfare)
Gus: This song was demoed way back for Down On The Farm and forms part of that albums’ narrative theme whereby a protagonist moves to the country to escape life in the city, and this song delves a little deeper into the possible reasons for that move. The isolated narrator, having possibly spent too much time alone at this point, starts recalling memories of the past, but then has hallucinations and starts to question his judgement and reasons for leaving in the first place. A ghost (or is it just the voice in his head?) joins in with his questioning and urges him to leave the farmhouse, but a deeper, more beautiful and destructive finale is brewing in his mind...
Josie and Bridget Graham played the sweeping violin and cellos on the finale of this track and Patrick McMullin plays the ‘Last Red Sunday Fanfare’ on multiple trumpets. When finishing this song I started to get really worried that it sounded like that song from Four Weddings & A Funeral, but then I had to just embrace things in order to finish it up... put on a shocking suit, grow a ponytail and a disgusting soul patch and just be three times as wet as I regularly am...
Lost in the Woods
Gus: When Ben and Lachy told me they were writing new Smallgoods songs together for a new album, I think this was the first thing that came out of my brain in response. It felt a bit like a sequel to one of our earlier songs, ‘Traipse Thru The Valley’, but also some kind of ending. Ben immediately commented on that feeling and from then on we always had it placed as the last song on the record. I was thinking about the line (from ‘Traipse’); “down long winding roads that nobody knows with dust-leaden bows,” and really wanted to re-create that drooping-eucalyptus and dappled-sunlight-catching-dust-between-branches-in-the-bush-on-a-sunny-afternoon feeling that you get when walking in the bush on country, but also the cold, dank and wet feeling of winters in the bush when you’re surrounded by those towering tree-spirits and everything is telling you to lie down and be absorbed by the understory of the forest. Sassafras in late winter really bled into this song, and in response, Matt Walker seemed like the perfect mountain-folk to get involved in portraying that drooping/dripping quality eucalyptus bushland with his bendy, dusty slide-guitar tones.
Lost in the Woods is out now through Lost and Lonesome - head to thesmallgoods.bandcamp.com to purchase the album on limited edition vinyl.
