The Thousands

If you lived in Sydney a few years ago and ordered a pizza, you may have had the pleasure of opening the door to see Jack Ladder standing there holding your stuffed-crust supreme. I’m sure it was an okay job but he’s since given that up to do boring things like making albums and performing on American breakfast television.

Teeth & Tongue are touring with him, and in true media-whore fashion I offered to not only play the tour but write about it as well. Strangely, people seem to be more interested in Jack Ladder than my brilliantly documented Hume Highway breakfasts, so I convinced him to let me record one of our conversations. We’re on the balcony of the Annandale Hotel clutching girly vodka drinks and he’s graciously answering my questions in a voice so mellifluous that most of the interview barely registers on my Dictaphone.

Jess Cornelius: Have you ever been in a band with matching outfits, like boiler suits or skinny ties?
Jack Ladder: No, but I used to play bass in a band and we wore a lot of epaulettes. Military regalia. I got bored before we’d even started. But they had some sort of success so I just kept doing it until it got too much. They’re on tour with Placebo now.

JC: I can’t imagine you doing that. You don’t wear eyeliner.
JL: Well that was always a bone of contention. I always felt a little awkward in eyeliner.

JC: It’s an awkward accessory. Do you bake?
JL: Do I get stoned?
JC: No, I mean cakes and scones and things.
JL: Oh, I cook a good roast chicken with stuffing. I spent a lot of time in the country making a record that didn’t happen so I just started cooking a lot, we used to make this stuffing from almonds, figs, olives… it was pretty good stuffing. But the one I made recently was anchovies, capers, and lemon.

JC: Fuck I love anchovies. Did you ever cook as one of your shitty day jobs?
JL: I delivered pizzas in Sydney. But I quit that a while ago. And once I worked in a cinema, that job was pretty bad. It was next to a McDonalds and was run by the mafia, they used to take me out to the car park and stand over me while I picked up rubbish. Then one night they asked me to clean up the back of their car, and I quit.

JC: What’s the worst interview you’ve ever done, apart from this one?
JL: I haven’t done that many interviews. But I really hate it when someone writes an article that is just referential; they say you sound like this person and that person. Why can’t they write with some vigour about the music? They’re professional music journalists.
JC: I don’t think there’s been one Teeth & Tongue review that doesn’t mention PJ Harvey.
JL: Yeah, I get really stupid ones like Nick Cave.
JC: You don’t sound anything like Nick Cave.
JL: No, and it’s just really inaccurate and kind of disappointing for people who would like Nick Cave. They’d buy the record and then want their money back.

JC: So what did you listen to growing up?
JL: I used to be really into hip-hop as a kid. The first show I ever went to was Cypress Hill and Ice Cube.
JC: Did you wear baggy homie pants? I can’t really imagine you as a bro, rolling people for their shoes.
JL: I think I did have some baggy pants, but I wasn’t a bro. At the same time I was listening to Marilyn Monroe. I sang ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’ for my school talent quest. I sang it acapella, in drag. I didn’t win; I was pipped at the post by a ballet dancer. She was probably Brian Brown’s daughter or something.

JC: So we’re playing Northcote Social Club this weekend, have you played there before?
JL: Yeah, I played a few years ago and a guy came up to me afterwards and said ‘I don’t think ‘tits’ is a very good word to use in a song.’ Because back then I had a song with ‘tits’ in it. He was quite upset.
JC: Is that why you changed the song to ‘I Love Your Mind’ for the last record?
JL: Yeah, it used to be called ‘I Love Your Tits’.