A burgeoning star in the Australian indie rock scene, the Melbourne/Naarm band are learning the ropes of their infant fame through their micro-tour of Sydney’s various bars and pubs. At this moment, however, Radio Free Alice speak to Honi Soit about their genesis, inspirations, and aspirations.
The band, named after an old bookshop in Darlinghurst, sleepily stumbled through the door of an ageing cottage that annually hosts the Glebe Music Festival, a fitting venue. The bassist, Michael, quipped the house “smells like its age”, while Noah, lead singer, asked to touch an ancient organ that has waxed over time, whose springs have begun to rot with rust from the nearby harbour salt.
I dragged the five of them to the dining room, supplying them with glasses of water and mint gum. Settled in a semi-circle around my scribble-filled notebook phone, they soon spoke of their origin in vague and aloof terms — I was looking at their life with a dusty telescope. Noah led the charge through my barrage of questions, with Michael and Lachie, the drummer, dipped in and out to clarify certain parts. The band, surprisingly, originated in Sydney, as Noah and Jules, the lead guitarist, chose to start the band in high school. In 2021, the band seemingly had reached future-defining crossroads; Noah and Jules moved to Melbourne, while the old bassist and drummer focused on their studies in Newcastle and Sydney. But, Michael and Lachie were their thankful lifeboat. Noah and Jules had “known them to be good” through mutuals, allowing the band shift from a side hustle into a more definite career. Maayan, the keyboardist, is a recent addition, with his soothing synths that elevate their “very melodic Smiths-y sound” from 2021.
Interviews are a tennis match; I played my turn with a question and expected a member to play theirs with a vaguely concocted answer. This courtship was disrupted when I asked what their current vision is, as Noah flipped it upon me with; “what do you think it is?” I willingly replied, without recognising the sudden shift in the dynamic. It was my turn to play, it was my turn to prove that I knew my stuff; that I had listened and cared. After two minutes of labelling them with some musical waffle as the new Joy Division and the forefront of 80s nostalgia, Michael finally took the reins to describe their sound, “every song is its own character, with its own personal style” and that it “would be stupid to box yourself”. Noah quickly followed Michael’s sentiment, saying: “I think your “sound” everchanging”, alluding to a change in style and iconography for their future EPs and albums.
The tennis match had been fixed, and I had finally reached 15 love; an answer I could align with their most recent EP, ‘Radio Free Alice’. Over four songs, the self-titled creates a cohesive story of their 2022 selves; of romantic pain and insecurity, where each character expresses the complex emotions that follow love. Though ‘Paris is Gone’ contains vivacious riffs and alluring tenacity, its lyrics verge on monotonous. Lachie explained the song to be about “a person, or it could be about the city itself, but also just follows what Paris represents, a place of love,” which dampened my cynicism, and replaced it with an understanding of the well-oiled machine of their artistic process. A song from their EP that epitomises their innate cohesion is, ‘Look What You’ve Done’. The crowning jewel of that record it perfects the balance of maintaining a catchy hook and the shaky concept of romance: where ironically insecurity thrives, and egos come to die. ‘Waste of Space’ follows in a similar vein with verging on absurdist lyrics like “I know I can be like a cul-de-sac” and harmonic riffs that nourish our longing for the long-absent ‘Madchester’ scene. Their most simple song, ‘Gotta Fall in Love’ imitates Madchester’s ‘Orange Juice’ in its tight production and wailing vocals, quickly reaching the point as Noah declares “I can’t do anything at all”.
Often overlooked, Michael pointed to the self-destructive limits the industry imposes: “We have a stockpile of material going on for about a year that we are ready to release.” He noted the EP’s songs were two years old. The ‘latency’ of their releases makes them uncomfortable. A never-ending itch that keeps them willing to entertain tragic audiences in Wollongong and listen to my babble.
I thought that their itch could be scratched by TikTok’s insistent hold over the music industry where catchy hooks are prioritized and homemade marketing is incentivized. Radio Free Alice, however, are the antithesis of this, as they were signed through Triple J unearthed; a much more organic way of being recognised for your art. However, Noah thought that ‘Paris is Gone’ has the potential for going viral” on TikTok if they really tried.
In saying this, Radio Free Alice has built the broadest demographic I’ve personally ever seen for a small indie rock band: from 60-year-old retired men to ever-enthusiastic fan-girls drenched in their merch. When asked about this variety, the ever-honest Lachie found it “weird”, whilst Mayaan accepted “anyone who enjoys it”. It was also mentioned in the flurry of talk that there is finally a Radio Free Alice fan account with five followers, which could foreshadow their future success in the music industry.
Soon the interview came to a close as my dad, much to my horror, came into the dining room to take me home. Radio Free Alice were very courteous, and not surprisingly got on with my ex-indie kid father as they talked about Spacemen 3 and Cud, whilst I was spuriously cleaning up the gum wrappers and empty glasses.