HER OWN SAVIOUR
SPINNING THE DEBUT ALBUM FROM BEC SANDRIDGE FEELS LIKE LISTENING TO A PANIC ATTACK… A BIG, GLORIOUS, RETRO-TINGED PANIC ATTACK THAT YOU NEVER WANT TO END.
Kaleidoscopic in every sense of the term, navigating a dizzying flurry of ‘80s pop, cock-rock, disco and dance vibes, there’s no one proper way to describe Bec Sandridge. The Wollongong-native pop goddess is an absolute anomaly, her tunes at once ruinously retro and freakishly futuristic. And with her debut album – the transcendental Try+SaveMe, which she released sans label in October – Sandridge taps into a range of sonic aberrations spanning the full gamut of emotion and creativity. Naturally, we had to learn more…
How did you look to explore beyond the boundaries of genre with a full album of material to work with?
I think this is the first time I really took the time to work out what actually I wanted for any of my songs. I definitely nerded out very hard on things like tones and styles. I have all these playlists on Spotify, like, “Drum sounds I like,” or, “Guitar tones I like” – I really just honed in on working out what I do and don’t like, which was a pretty cool experience.
With my InTheFog EP, I had five days in the studio and I was like, “I need to get this done, and whatever happens at the end of it is what happens.” Whereas this time I worked with Oscar Dawson and Gab Strum, and it was a very conscious decision to get both of them in because the guitar is my main instrument, but also I love the idea of throwing myself in an anxious, manic club. It’s just very un-me. So the decision to work with them allowed me to pick different sounds and ideas because I really liked them, rather than just, “Oh I must put this in here because of time or budget or whatever.”
Was there a lot of experimentation involved?
Yeah! Oz is quite an organic producer – he’s very much a ‘live band’ kind of dude. His work with Holy
Holy and Ali Barter and Alex Lahey… They’re all indie-rock, kind of ‘90s sounds. I’ve always found my music a bit more collage-y. I like building my songs, piece by piece, from the guitar upwards. So I think it was a good challenge for both of us.
We initially tried to play the songs with my live band in the studio, and it just didn’t feel like me. It felt like I was trying too hard – like a covers version of my own band. So we experimented with playing songs live, and then we brought them back. We got a live drummer in, and then we replaced their tracks with electronic drums. Then we decided to put live drums back on. And then we were going, “Actually, let’s double everything.” So we had live drums and electronic drums. We had synth bass
and electric bass.
It was a really cool exercise in trying to figure out where I sit between genres, too. My project is definitely a pop thing, but also, the guitar is what I love, and having that kind of ‘live band’ energy… Sometimes I feel like it’s hard to replicate that in a recording. So with Oz, it was really fun to explore how we can put that down.
What’s your philosophy when it comes to picking up a guitar and thinking, “How is this going to shape a song?”
I think it’s song-by-song. A song like “My Friends Think I Can Do Better” – that’s definitely a nod to bands like Queen who would often use the guitar as a synth, which is what I wanted to do. My overall philosophy is that if it’s gross, it’s great. I struggle to leave space in a lot of my songs, and I know that’s something I need to get better at.
But I much prefer things to be on the nose than, say, just the nice-sounding guitar. I just don’t find that interesting – and it’s always in the back of my mind that a song is going to be played live later. So my playing style is a lot more angular and jutty. If it sounds too nice, then it’s just not going to be me.
Do you whip the guitar out onstage for those big solos?
If I’m honest, I actually hate doing guitar solos. I’m doing lead and chord stuff at the same time, but it depends what mood I’m in. Sometimes I’ll be, “No, I can’t do that.” I don’t know. It’s the same thing with being on the nose – it’s a fine line to figure out, “Am I playing cock-rock because it’s funny, or is it because I actually enjoy it?” It’s hard to know at this point.
The line between irony and authenticity is a fun one to blur.
I feel like I’m discovering that it’s genuine love. I have this joke with all of my friends that I’m obsessed with Bon Jovi’s “Have A Nice Day”, but I just don’t think it’s a joke anymore. I think I actually love that song.
I like that you don’t take yourself too seriously on Try+SaveMe, especially with the ‘80s pop slant. What is it about that era of music, and that style as a whole, that enraptures you as an artist?
The artists that I like from that era aren’t scared – or they’re just not aware. I don’t know. It’s like a weird thing. I think it’s the theatre of it. It’s this theatre of punk, almost. I think it’s a real art in taking yourself really seriously, but being able to have fun in the process. I always have my tongue planted firmly in my cheek, and I know it’s a protection mechanism because I don’t want anyone to think I’m taking myself too seriously. But also I’m like, “Here I am. I’m writing about stuff to do with my family or stuff that hurts me.” I think there’s something really beautiful in it when an artist has shittonnes of fun, but they’re like, “Yeah, take me seriously.”