Australian music has always struggled to define its own cutting edge. Of course, there have always been great Aussie bands, but the idea of a distinct sound or style, popular both home and away, has proved elusive.
Until now. If Modular paved the way, fellow Sydney indie label Future Classic has effected a paradigm shift in Australian pop culture. In 2013, its fresh-faced bass producer Flume dislodged Bruno Mars from the top of the Aussie album charts. Last year, the debut album by his beardy, singer-songwriter mate, Chet Faker – a purveyor of James Blake-style sad bangers – followed suit. Both contradict the macho, meat ’n’ potatoes stereotypes common to antipodean culture.
“We had our thing, stuck to it and the pendulum swung to the point where audiences are now tuning in,” says Nathan McLay, boss of Future Classic, which has recently turned 10. “Australia’s now setting a forward-thinking cultural agenda rather than merely following – what you’d expect from any major, multicultural, tech-savvy country.” Indeed, in a world where everyone from FKA twigs to the Weeknd is busy boiling down hip-hop, R&B and electronica into a potent, post-everything brew – where the effect isn’t dependent on where it’s made or where you listen to it – Faker and Flume have broken internationally, too. The UK has been slow on the uptake, but in Istanbul a public petition forced Chet Faker to upgrade to a 5,000-capacity venue so that more people could attend. Flume recently remixed Arcade Fire and sold out multiple nights at New York’s Terminal 5 and Club Nokia in LA.
Like every great label, its aesthetic is elastic but instantly recognisable. Ostensibly a dance music label, all its acts, from the brainy, genre-blurring Seekae to George Maple’s sophisticated R&B, are distinctively pop-tinged, emotional and song-based. They have crossover appeal. “That space between traditional scenes excites us,” says McLay. “We’re inspired by bringing sometimes fringe art to wider audiences.”
Thanks to the internet, that is now possible anywhere. Historically, you would have been more likely to find ambitious Australian musicians pulling pints in Camden than perfecting their art in Perth, but social media has shrunk the world (look at how Lorde became a remote SoundCloud sensation from New Zealand). McLay tips UV boi, Basenji and Hayden James as Australia’s next wave, but stresses that, for the “streaming generation”, geography, like genre, is irrelevant: “People have gone beyond Berlin house or London being synonymous with bass. No one seems to care where music’s from now… as long as it’s good.”
The Teen Idols compilation is out now on Future Classic
