RVG
THREE YEARS SINCE THEIR BOMBSHELL DEBUT TOOK THEM FROM THE AUSSIE UNDERGROUND TO THE INTERNATIONAL MAINSTAGE, RVG RETURN TO OUR STEREOS WITH A NEWLY ENERGISED SPARK THAT’S EQUALLY CHARISMATIC AND CRAZY. FITTINGLY TITLED FERAL, LP2 IS SET TO KICK THE BAND OFF ON AN EVEN MORE EXPLOSIVE JOURNEY.
Alittle rough around the edges, emotionally volatile and defined by their prickly rhythms, soaring hooks and lashings of reverb and overdrive, RVG are one of those bands that are simply impossible to ignore. Starting out as wide-eyed staples of Melbourne’s DIY circuit, the foursome – led by the enigmatic Romy Vager, whose forcible quips and scuzzy riffs recall the walloping bluntness of ‘70s post-rock – have fast become one of Australia’s outright favourite rock outfits.
Before they make their arena debut supporting iconic rockers Faith No More next February, RVG are cementing their status as songwriters not to f*** around with in their scorching second album, Feral. Though it’s leagues above its predecessor – 2017’s sleeper hit A Quality Of Mercy – it’s a familiar journey through the jungle of emotion that is Vager’s mind. It’s coarse, colourful and compelling; an experiment in high fidelity with the energy and abashment of a band whose defining characteristic is their rawness. It’s just over 30 minutes in length, yet its hooks bound around in your head for hours after the final note rings out.
We caught up with Vager to vibe on how Feral came together, why it sounds so goddamn good, and why you don’t always need a billion-dollar guitar to get the most riveting riffs (so long as you have a mate whose state-of-the-art Danelectro can save the day when needed).
The name Feral really sticks out because there’s so many ways it can be interpreted, virtually none in a positive way. What’s the significance behind that title for you?
For me, at least, the last couple of years have been intense and quite weird. A lot of it being the kind of person I am, and the kind of way I perform, I feel like I’m very much outside of the world – I feel feral. I just feel like a wild animal, y’know? I think that’s kind of what these songs reflect; I was being really dramatic when I came up with it as the title for the album, but then I just went, “Oh, this actually makes a lot of sense!”
A Quality Of Mercy was recorded on a $100 budget in the bandroom of a local pub. What was it like going from that sort of atmosphere to a professional setup at Head Gap with someone as renowned as Victor Van Vugt?
It was good! I mean, I liked the way the first album sounds – I think it came out really nice for $100. But at the same time, it did take us a very long time to record that. We were quite lazy at that point in time; I’d ring people up and be like, “Do you want to finish off the small amount of work we have to complete the album?” And they’d be like, “Ah, I’m not really feeling it right now – maybe in a month.” And then a month would pass, and y’know… So it took a long time to record like that, because we had no prospects or anything. But this one was just two weeks of pure concentration and hard work, and I really liked that.
Feral sounds a bit sharper and more dynamic than Mercy, but as far as the atmosphere of it all goes, it’s still very raw and un-f***ed-with, and it sounds a bit like a live record in some places. Was it important for you to maintain that kind of musical aesthetic for this one?
Before we recorded it, I had the idea of it being this kind of overproduced, compressed, like, monster. But in the end, we just did what was good for the songs – and what was good for the songs was just to play them in a variation of how we play them live, and kind of keep that energy and honesty to it.
Were you recording live?
Yes! The only thing was that I did vocals separately and we did a few overdubs on some parts.
What is it about that live, in-the-moment vibe that you think really makes these songs shine?
You can hear the energy to it. You can really hear when something is played to a click track – it sort of sucks a bit of the energy out a bit. And our drummer Marc [Nolte] refuses to play to a click track – he’s like, “I’ll quit the band if I have to play to a click track!” Which is fair enough, y’know? So I think it’s just horses for courses, really. We just kind of suit that vibe.
What are you getting your shred on with at the moment?
I have a Danelectro – some sort of ’56 reissue. Reuben [Bloxham] has a guitar he got for $5 at an op shop… Yeah. It’s the only the guitar he uses, which is mental [ laughs]. It stresses me out! It’s been known to cut out before a gig, and we’ve had to quickly solder the parts back together so it doesn’t just fall apart.
What is it about old mate Dan that’s just stolen your heart?
This one I got as a surprise birthday gift a few years ago from all my friends, so I feel like it’s a good omen to use it on everything I do. But I had a job at Safeway when I was 15, and as soon as I earned enough money, I went out to a guitar shop and bought my first proper guitar – and I bought this shiny Danelectro, just because it was the most ridiculous looking guitar I’d ever seen. So I’ve been using Danelectros for years – they’re the only kind of guitar that I really like to use. I like the way they sound, and I like how light they are. I don’t know, it just feels really good. I’ve never really felt comfortable with a lot of other guitars. I haven’t even tried a lot of other guitars, I’ve just kind of stuck with this.