I knew I was dealing with a vaguely auspicious and ragged group when I met Bourke’s outside the Conservatorium on a strikingly sunny Sunday afternoon; all four were shielded with various instruments that hung off their limbs.
After lugging their guitars and (I think) cymbals up the concrete hill to the Botanical Gardens, we assembled into a dubious circle. Soon we began a recap of a recent gig. Here, I found their stage presence was comfortably nostalgic and oddly familiar — like a long chat with an old friend. Martin, lead vocals, explained their presence was based on “the merit of not taking yourself as a personality too seriously on stage.” This approach is reflected in the two 2023 singles.
The first single ‘Firetrucks’ was written in 2021 by Martin and Adam P, the bassist. Though I do enjoy a central motif, in this case, the ages of growing up, the overall song over time loses its shape. The sound pops and splatters all over your ears under the stress of the lead guitar spiralling and the random middle eight attempting to emulate the Strokes. However, like Dylan, the lead guitarist, I much prefer their second single ‘Runaway’. Here, they perfect the fleeting togetherness that ‘Firetrucks’ failed to achieve. The delicate lyricism matches the carefully played rhythm guitar, bass, and the gentle push of the drums. The lead guitar adds to this sort of sonic waterfall with Dylan’s loose repetitive movements — all making for a great listen.
Three of Bourke’s members are in at least one other band, making for an indecisive future. I asked if someday they would have to choose one band to focus on, they all awkwardly laughed. Adam C finally answered pragmatically, “I just think it [each band] prioritises itself for how organised and how busy one band is, because sometimes Bourke’s will be really busy, and sometimes the Gingerbakers will have a load of gigs booked.” This priority illuminates the underlying fear of being “dormant” or at least appearing as such, paradoxically driving bands to stay active. Within these circles, dormancy means irrelevancy.
The antidote, according to Martin, is simple: “Just wait until someone asks you to play a gig or you can go out of your way and email places”. Helping this, all members apart from Adam P attend the Con. Being in these musical circles gives them opportunities like support slots, allowing them to get their name out over the past two years.
As the shade from the fig tree above us grew, Bourke’s started to discuss their complex relationship with recording and their back catalogue. Martin began, “We’re still really slowly trying to record, and we do it ourselves.” Their recording approach marries the amateur with the professional; they record demos at Adam C’s house and refine their production at the Con. This homegrown sound radiates through the impersonal experience of streaming, building onto that pre-existent familiarity as seen on stage.
When it comes to release strategy, the band is divided. Martin and Adam P like singles, because “we have this mindset of if we can try to get songs out, can break that habit [of not recording enough] in ‘single’ form, so we can just work through them, and if we get sick of them it doesn’t matter.” However, Dylan and Adam C really want to release an EP. Now, as much as I would love to know the answer to this common conundrum, as with most aspects of participating in the arts, there is no set formula. It’s not an exact science and everything is up in the air, making the music scene both a thrilling and terrifying place.
Stepping away from the microscope, Martin was rather earnest about the band’s trajectory, “I feel like we’ve gotten pretty good at performing 45 minutes of music. Anything that’s not that is what we need to work on, a better social media presence maybe.” Social media can be an effective and transformative tool to raise interest, it has also set an expectation that bands must also master marketing as well as artistry. In turn, this strips away the excitement of performing and dampens the artistic process — promotion itself has become the art.
Even as the ageing leaves’ shadows carved out our faces, Bourke’s continued to express unexpected and provocative takes in response to my question about their sound; “I want 26-year-olds to think that this is what 16-year-olds are listening to.” This summary became more convoluted, “I want to trick old people into thinking this is what young people are into.” In my mind, young people include teenagers but I was countered by Dylan distinguishing the two demographics; “young people music is different from teenage music. Teenage music is bad.” This negative archetype belittles teen music, and its audience – often the most dedicated and receptive.
Bourke’s carried on to explain their musical approach, “We’re not just playing chords, we’re playing parts. It’s very composed and intentional music, we’re kind of just trying to boil it into a science in a way.” This sort of scientific strategy takes away from the beautiful ugliness of music. And I am sure the Con has aided Bourke’s in becoming analytical at understanding composition — but at what point does this sort of approach cheapen and undervalue other artists who haven’t had that sort of musical education? Music is supposed to have no barriers but when you proclaim, “I think we want it to be so complex that it sounds simple”, whether subconsciously or not, it continues to promote a faulty standard of musical superiority.
Soon our conversation wound down into the late afternoon azure. Leaving the Gardens, I think that Bourke’s are a band that is coming into their own as thoughtful (even calculating) artists, ensuring that their future releases will be as high quality as ‘Runaway’.
