The Thousands

Introducing a cold, hostile battering courtesy of Deaf Wish. This is out-there punk raised on a noise diet of Black Flag and Sonic Youth, and everything in between. ‘Bad Water’ lures you into the swamp for a deranged punch-up before ‘Gentle Mental Illness’ slows things down to a nauseating crawl; the chanted title lyric probably serves as group therapy for these sick gentlemen. There’s a spot of damaged beauty in ‘Backwards’ – the waves of guitar noise are (relatively) soothing and the distant, slurred vocals sound like the narcoleptic mutterings of a booze-addled daydream.

The ruthless assault that’s been captured on this LP is as true a document of Deaf Wish circa-2010 as you could hope for. Being in the same room as this band, live or on record, means being at the receiving end of all the convoluted rage, frustrations and insecurities they spew forth. Like any good punk band, there’s no restraint in the savagery. I interviewed Jensen Tjhung (guitar/vox) and Nick Pratt (bass).

Lee Parker: The new album Reality & Visions is a vicious, venom-spitting beast of a record, much harsher than your first CD. Since then you’ve lost guitarist Sarah Hardiman and gained Pete Dickinson. Has this been a big part of the change in sound?

Jensen Tjhung: Everything changes. You never replace someone in a band. You re-invent the band. I used to ‘play’ guitar with Sarah and it was pretty. With Pete, there is a violence, a panic. Playing with Pete in the band is like an Uzi fight in an A.D.D clinic. We are privileged to have Pete join the band and allow us to play the songs we made with Sarah. We’re not sorry that everything we made with Pete is f*cked up and demonic.

Nick Pratt: I think we are more interested in being brutal and uncompromising now. Finding beauty in the harsh noise. Pete really knows how to wring some amazing sounds from his guitar, yeah, skillful and uncompromising. The process is the same but with different personnel the sound is different.

LP: I find that your band has an honest approach to playing; unaffected and raw. This new album sounds intensely fierce but occasionally loose and scattered. Does this reflect the past year or two for the members?

JT: You can’t expect all your children to be beautiful. This one comes from same sex parents and was born through the ass and had sharp teeth and red eyes. Discomfort, awkwardness and dread combined with drifting attention amount to this sort of sound. It comes from who we are when we are together.  I remember the rehearsal room pain of hours of feedback, noise and fear-filled cries cutting through us like a razor wind from arctic regions.

NP: It’s funny, recording the album seemed quite chilled out to me. A few long cold nights in a warehouse. We just close our eyes and let go. I’m into soul music and there’s something about the vocal performance of some of those singers that gives what might seem like twee material some gravity. That’s what I’m into, making every note soulful, I sound like a dickhead but I mean it.

LP: It’s hard to pin down Deaf Wish’s influences. American internet critic Mark Prindle described you guys as "guitar-driven noise rock a la Touch & Go/AmRep". Do you agree with that at all?

JT: How silly are the whining inner-city punx? They want shit to be easy for them. They like saying Husker Du and Wipers and everything making sense because of it. They love the rules, they need all the rules. We give you ugliness and neglect, like the back streets of Marrickville where you walk past mouldy stormwater drains with smashed up prams surrounded by crushed up red bull cans. That’s what our album is like. It’s hard for you. It’s our document. Having said that, I never want to make another record like this in my life.

LP: I’ve been told that the new LP was recorded in a warehouse. For some reason I can’t detach this from the image of the warehouse in Romper Stomper. Any interesting stories arise from this environment?

JT: If we had the guns we would have shot each other.

LP: Do the ‘Visions’ and ‘Reality’ titles on the A and the B sides of the record have a deeper meaning you could tell us about?

NP: I like the idea of what is real and the way I experience reality being different. People should colonise my head. It would be much better for all involved.

LP: Have you ever played a show sober?

JT: No. Sounds terrifying.

NP: Yeah, I recommend it, you play heaps better. I’m going straight edge before the Friday show until we’ve played. Then I’m getting hammered. HAMMERED!

LP: What bands kicking around at the moment have been doing it for you, Melbourne and beyond?

JT: I’m into The Dead Farmers from Sydney and anything that Jon Michell and Justin Fuller make here in Melbourne. I’m a massive fan of Dane Certificate and his centrifugal ideologies. I heard the new Zond album and it ruined my day. The Seizures up in Brisbane turned it on when we were up there last and Insurgents and Shock Value were amazing on the first tour. I’m not sure if all these groups are still together, because mostly I listen to the Troggs and drink tea.

NP: Teen Archer are ruling. I like Late Arvo Sons as well.

LP: So you’re up in Brisbane launching the record this Friday with great supports. The next night you’re going to the Gabba to soak up some booze and bogan-footy-rage before crossing town to rip holes in an innocent house show. Should we be worried?

NP: Come hang with us. I will be missing my dog.

JT: Only if we lose. Football obsession is an illness I carry. I once put Russell Robertson off a goal with a remark about his sister. I get really upset sometimes, a loss can ruin my day, sometimes my week. After we play, I hope to bail up some poor guy and thrash out some serious football talk. In fact, every time I get real wasted, I look to engage in major conversation about football. When I’m too old for rock n roll, I think I would like to write about football. Sometimes, the Queenslanders aren’t up for it, but I hammer that sh*t relentlessly, I don’t care if anyone’s listening. That’s what you should be scared about – the gig is easy compared to the post-game.