The Drones: Monsters Of The Australian Bush

words by Angus Sharpe. Photos by Dougal Gorman.

The Australian bush is filled with wild creatures; spiders, snakes, scorpions, drop bears.

Monsters whose danger is forever conflated. Really, they’re not so scary. If you leave them alone, they’ll do the same for you. There is one creature, however, living on a property deep in the Victorian bush, who has a ferociousness that cannot be overstated. An animal who is right now helming the return of one of Australia’s most revered rock bands, The Drones.

As the Naarm/Melbourne five-piece wages war across the country for the first time in a decade, a guitar perpetually flies around frontman Gareth Liddiard’s writhing figure. Night after night, lyrics are hacked like phlegm as he assails microphones overhead. In a vicious, roaring pack, his four bandmates – Christian Strybosch (drums), Fiona Kitschin (bass), Steve Hesketh (keys), and Dan Luscombe (guitar) – join him in tearing apart a spate of rooms.

In the eyes of sold-out audiences, Liddiard is about as wild an animal as there is. Yet, on the eve of this momentous tour, when I speak to Gaz (who also fronts acclaimed art-rock project, Tropical Fuck Storm) from his bushland home, he is calm and more than happy for a laugh. Whether due to his blasé authenticity, or the two (self-described ‘giant’) mushrooms he’s picked and eaten an hour before, it makes for a great chat.

Are you excited for the tour?

Yeah. It'll be good. I mean, it's a long tour, but there's plenty of days off. You'll do five or six days in a row and start to want to rest your voice. Otherwise, everything else is spaced out. So, it's pretty cruisy.

Like, if we're overseas – The Drones have done it heaps in the past, and Tropical Fuck Storm do it heaps – the normal thing to do is six shows in a week, and you don't play twice in the same city. It's so fucking hectic. So, yeah this is pretty cruisy in comparison.

It's cruisy for you, but how are the others feeling?

Well Steve and Chriso haven't played at all in the last ten years. And Dan's played occasionally, but he doesn't tour like me and Fi tour.

So, to you and Fi it's a walk in the park, while the others are in the back seat, like, ‘fuck’.

Yeah, I think they're like, oh, here we go. But Chriso and Steve have been on the straight and narrow for fucking  years, so they're having a great time. Because, you know, they can get drunk at work.

How has it felt playing with The Drones again? Has it felt like slipping back into old clothes?

The band was around for 18 years. So, you know, most of the stuff we play we’ve been playing for a long time. So, it's pretty easy to remember.

Like riding a bike?

Yeah totally. The bulk of it was written when I was young, so it’s pretty simple. Of course there's stuff like Taman Shad. That song, for me, and Chriso. It's just the worst song in the world. It's literally the same beat all the way through the song, but at one point the beat stops, and then immediately starts halfway through its cycle. It does your fucking head in. It's impossible to play. It's so weird. Other than that, they're all pretty fucking easy.

Is there anything you missed about playing in The Drones that you don't really get in Tropical Fuck Storm?

No, not really. The great thing about Tropical Fuck Storm is there's two other singers, so I don't have to sing everything. Which is good, because I feel more like a guitar player than I feel like a singer. But you’ve got to have a singer, right? So, it sort of just falls on me to do it. That's the only reason. I mean, I'm not fucking Frank Sinatra. I'm not anyone I'd want to listen to.

With the Drones, it's just way more singing. Which is fine because I did it for eighteen years, so I can do it. Otherwise, it's the same. A band full of girls and a band full of guys, it's not that dissimilar. If they’re your mates, and you’re in a long-term touring relationship with them, it's just this horrible, filthy humour. Like dragging your fucking brain through a fucking sewer. Girls drink more white wine. That's the difference. If you want like a sociology thing. Girls love white wine.

Does it feel like the same band you played with ten years ago?

Yeah. Apart from everyone's fat and grey. You're never going to have the same energy as when you're twenty five. We used to go sort of ballistic. We used to break a lot of stuff. We had to budget for breaking shit. But there's less of that. We're not going to throw a guitar at your head anytime soon. But other than that, it's the same.

The thing is, the ten years that the drones didn't play, we just hung out anyway, because we're friends. Like, it's completely normal. If I don't have anything to do on the weekend, the first person I call will be like Lusky or Chris or Steve.

So, after all this time, how did the idea to do a reunion come up?

We did two shows for a benefit kind of thing in Melbourne, and we had fun. So, after that, we thought we'd do some more.

Was there any concern about looking like a legacy act?

I don't really care about that. Everyone's doing that anyway. I mean, look at the fucking Rolling Stones. They put albums out, but no one gives a fuck. I mean, everyone knows that they're not going to be as good as what they were. So, yeah, it's fine. It's acceptable to do that.

Were you surprised by the demand for the ticket sales?

Yeah, I don't take things for granted. I don't assume, we're that popular. It's not like you're God with an all-seeing eye. It's not like you can look into the hearts and minds of the population of Australia. I mean, we were always the smallest big band in the world kind of thing.

Have you noticed a change in the audiences?

Oh yeah, lots of youngies. It's good to know that there are some young people that like us.

Why do you think young people are still drawn to your music?

Well, it doesn't suck.

But then at the same time, this is the way the universe works. It's just physics. Because we don't suck, we never get anywhere near as far as a band that does suck. Like, you have to suck. The general rule of thumb is the bigger you are, the more likely it is that you're shit. And we never were. We were always at least a movie that was 3.5 stars.

Do you think young bands are too comfortable sucking?

Young bands are very comfortable with sucking. And I think they're all really scared. There's a conformist thing. No one wants to stick out too much, unless it's sticking your ass out. Once upon a time it was like, what does your band sound like? But now it's, what does your band look like? Basically, is your band hot? Okay, I'll listen to them.

What songs are you excited to play on the tour?

Oh my God, I don't know. I like songs like, I Am the Supercargo, and Luck in Odd Numbers, and old songs like Decal Blues.

Why are you excited to play them?

Well, something like Luck in Odd Numbers. It's very strange. It's got the most bizarre baseline. It's just kind of odd, so we thought it'd be great to have a go at that.

But then others like Decal Blues, because they kind of play themselves. It's so easy. They're loud and proud, and you just have to buckle the fuck up. They really come at you. All you have to do is just let them flow through and try and keep up.