articles

dB magazine
26/10/94

reckøning/Rash, Adelaide UniBar, Friday October 14, 1994

(there is a review of Rash’s set then…)

A far more cultured article were reckøning. Like Rash, a three piece, they played songs instead that gave space to artistry, to filigree lines of guitar and vocal harmony. From the very first track, Naked, they set out a stall of English influenced sounds that paid heavy dues to melody and pop sensibilty.

It would be too easy to cast them as sorrowful songs, almost completely wrong to bill them as Gothic. The better songs on the night were the Triple J aired Valentine’s Day, a shining vignette of melodic hooks, Gravity, The Future Is Stupid and the gorgeous, simple Eve. These alone showed that reckøning have a firm grasp on songwriting.

You can sense the care that was put into their structure and you are left with an impression of mood and colour. However, this is not to say that reckøning are flowery or pointlessly arty; they too know the pleasure of volume and dense pulsing noise.

Above all this there is Séamus’ voice. Having recently endured a fortnight of a late winter cold, he claimed that it was not at its peak but nonetheless he was able to show off vocal textures that most male singers would perhaps not even dare to try. If he can develop it further, add a bit more range at both ends and maintain the roundness of tone, he will have an asset that will mark reckøning out from most of their contemporaries.

What the band also has is confidence. Quite how this differs from arrogance is open to debate but they do not appear to have crossed the line. If they translate this into a livelier stage presence they will be all the more engaging for future audiences.

Just before you start thinking that they might be a bit precious, consider their choice of closing number: The Vapors anti-classic, Turning Japanese. They tried to trash it, and to a point they did, but the mere mention of it was enough to tell everyone there that reckøning aren’t in too much of a panic about their image.

Paul Marcon-Ransom

On Dit magazine
28/8/95

Spring had sprung. It was the kind of glorious day that made you want to drive into the country with all the windows down. So Peter Owen (drums/vocals), Séamus (vocals/bass) and I unanimously decided that an interview on the sunny Barr Smith lawns had greater appeal than any indoor venue. We flopped on the grass and I discovered there was a lot more interesting things about the band than their long hair and strange t-shirts revealed.

Reckøning have been around since early 1993 and have recorded three demos, including one for JJJ as well as an acoustic tape. During this time, their style has developed and their audience has expanded, making them a prominent fixture in Adelaide’s music scene. I asked Séamus if this was why they are releasing a CD at this point in their careers.

Séamus: "Yeah, we’ve been wanting to do this for a while, but it was better to wait until we had a stronger fan-base."

Peter: "We’re pressing about 1000 CDs all up and they should sell quickly. Altogether we have sold 600 of our tapes and they’re a bit harder to get rid of than CDs."

The reckøning CD The Future Is Stupid contains six tracks and was recorded at Mixmasters in five days straight during July 1995. It is an independent release and displays photography by local artist Lisa Polvari. Unless you are blind, you would have seen the blue reckøning "Princess" poster that has been plastered around the Uni, featuring the front cover of the CD.

Séamus: "Lisa does all of our artwork; her photos tie in really well with our songs as they’re quirky but with a slightly spooky edge to them."

At this point I realised that Séamus could be dying from a Spring hayfever attack, so we abandoned the rugged outdoor life and meandered up to the UniBar for a beer. The lads hadn’t been there since it was decorated, and I felt their opinion of the artwork was important...for some odd reason.

Peter: "I like the naked blue lady whose hair turns into outer space."

Séamus: "Yeah, but then again, anything’s an improvement from the grey that used to be there!"

Hmm. Okay. We chat some more about the red corduroy couches and the lounge suite that looks like it was swiped from my Grandparents’ living room. Except that my Grandparents’ wouldn’t have tolerated half a schooner of draught spilling all over it, or even the oval porcelain dish of gravy that we discovered beneath the seat. It was very curious and yet oddly disgusting. Séamus declared, "I wouldn’t mind if it grew legs and walked away from us," and Pete and I agreed.

After questioning whether the UniBar played any CDs other than Ratcat’s Tingles EP, I asked Pete to describe reckøning’s sound.

Pete: "Well, it’s a bit different to Ratcat. I guess you could say that we used to be jangly guitar pop, but now we are..."

Séamus: "Ambiguous rock?"

Pete: "Ambiguous rock!!!"

reckøning are quite unique in both their musical style and approach to live performances. A month ago, the band decided that in reality, stages were quite boring so Séamus and Matt Swayne (guitar) strolled along to Cheap As Chips and bought $150 worth of plastic greenery. Now they have fake plants strategically placed on stage, providing an alluring (if not bizarre) jungle setting.

Pete: "We wanted something dramatic and exciting."

Séamus: "And Stanley the elephant, the band mascot, feels quite at home in this environment."

Apart from a small toy elephant, reckøning also have fond feelings for their cars.

"This because we drive around a lot to get to places where we put up posters, as well as bringing our instruments to gigs," Peter explains. I am then hurled into conversation about a green Gemini rotting in Séamus’ driveway, Matt’s obscure Bongo van and Pete’s stretch-mini called "The Bean".

Pete: "It’s a 1967 sky blue Morris Mini."

A-ha! I proceed to tell him about my own Morris Major Elite 1963 with two-tone blue...oops. Anyway, back to the band. To end a further fun-filled afternoon, we decided to exit the bar in a peculiar fashion; hopping on one leg and then taking two steps forward and one step back. "Why?" you ask? I simply do not know.

Shelley

Rip It Up magazine
31/8/95

reckøning-the future is stupid
(ear reckørds)

"Local boys go upper class with an off the planet debut" or "This works wonderfully well wasted" or "That elephant fixation was probably the cause of those rashes". I can see the headlines now.

The point is, the lyrics are so bent and unparallel to what is loosely called the conventional that it’s frighteningly good. You’ll hear releases with more studio polish and probably more character (dynamics, whatever) but you won’t find one as excitingly unorthodox.

Ah, then there’s that pigtailed Séamus lad vocalist from Hell with an entirely new approach to singing - actually with his natural born, Australian accent: not American, not British, untouched by the all too common ‘counterfeit’ twangs and trimmings (Simon, this is why I love this band. Understand?).

Vibed! is the entertainers portion of reckøning: immediate, alluring, sounding like Duran Duran (?!) circa ’81, minus the apprehension. Naked is the artistic reckøning: exploring many directions within five minutes on the most affectionate roller coaster ride you’ll ever hear. Eve is the song I’ve always wished I could write.

(And we boogie woogie all night)

Rip It Up magazine
6/96

Meet The Weird Kids

A Tarantino-esque time frame….

"That’s awesome," says reckøning guitarist Matt Swayne after this interview where Séamus (vocals and bass) has left. "No one knows any of that. The only people who know are Pete (Owen - drums and harmonies) and I - just because we spend all day, every day with each other. This isn’t an exercise in hype, it’s about getting people to listen to a fucking good record."

You should write a book.

"I’m thinking about it."

Time leaps to the start: I’m meeting with Matt and Séamus (Pete and their manager Simon Marafioti couldn’t make it due to unfortunate circumstances) at the Rip It Up offices to talk about their eagerly awaited second EP (in this case a "mini-album"), Weird Kids. It’s their undoubted popularity that makes reckøning something of a phenomenon in Adelaide. Their fans take them to their hearts with the adoration normally reserved for "untouchable" international bands. They seem to recognise something in their left-of-centre songs, songs that marry ethereal rock with pop classicism. It’s become a soundtrack to their lives. The musicians’ set-up has been described as a natural triangle, with the base being Pete’s tribal/organic drums-often inspired by "earth" sounds and images (like rolling fields, oceans etc.) - Séamus being middle range and a little less tied to the Earth-using different range that typical for either vocalists or bassists-then Matt and his host of technological effects and city sounds. Meet the record.

Weird Kids (the title track)

"In terms of lyrics and themes, it’s the full stop," Séamus says, "We wrote that at Hindmarsh Island after a crazy summer of non-stop six-or-seven day a week partying. We set up in this shack looking out over the Murray, but the song itself is about the city, especially the main drag. If there was ever a song to be dedicated to the people who’ve been coming to see us, it’s this one."

Matt: "The first thing I remember about that song is hearing this immense bass line after a couple of days of jamming and thinking ‘Aww! Play that again!’ That’s the song I want to write this time. Pete was inspired by looking out over the ocean which just went on but I have to tell you in a way that spaces something. It’s about wondering whether what you want is to just have one person and just be with that one person, or whether the thing that’ll make good is to run around and have fun. At the time it was a close subject. I guess I work a lot of personal things out through my lyrics. I think that’s why so many people can relate to them. It’s written down and the lyrics say it all - that’s what it’s about."

Armadillo

Séamus: "It’s about masturbation." Cool! - "It’s a fucking wicked song. Live it just goes completely nuts. There are some points in the song where I don’t even know I’m playing the bass. For all I know I’m playing some strange thick-stringed guitar. We often finish the set with it and it can really go through the roof. It’s the rocker from Mars!"

Before you change the subject, are you pro or against masturbation?

"Pro all the way."

He can’t suppress the smile.

Where Is The Intercom? (unlisted)

Séamus: "Speaking of masturbation….that was done with Andrew Street of the Undecided, our guitar tech, and Mick played the Juno 6, a strange old keyboard that makes bleepy noises. We all got pretty stoned and came up with this thing that revolved around Pete’s piano line. It was great."

Matt: "Everyone played the instrument that they thought would be the most fun on the night."

Skylab

Séamus: "Once again, on the same themes but focussing less on the desire of wondering what’s outside the window and more on the good and the bad-and everything that could be there between two people in love. It can be great fun, that night."

How did it get it’s name?

"One of my favourite movies ever is Dogs In Space (featuring a zonked out Michael Hutchence), and the theme throughout the movie is…it’s the time Skylab fell to the ground. A lot of the lyrics come from the relationship that the two main characters have. It’s close to me because my Auntie manages Sam Segovcha, the guy Michael Hutchence’s character is based on in the film. The line ‘feels like dying in his arms’-of course, she dies in his arms. ‘Feels like an endless sea’-‘cos of the song in the movie. I don’t know who it’s by." Iggy Pop song "Right. That plays over the top. Then ‘feels like an endless white car’-after she dies, she floats down the hallway and gets into a long, white limousine and drives away."

Gravity

Séamus: "I think of the mini-album as having a bit of a headache. Gravity’s got a really bad headache. I had a love/hate relationship with that song. I hate singing it ‘cos it’s a pain in the arse. We really worked with pain it causes me. It’s like E - the pain seems to be the attraction."

Matt: "It’s down now; it’s the ultimate."

Séamus: "The imagery in the verse came from a movie I saw on SBS one night, and it would be the thematic lynchpin of Weird Kids. It’s about going out with someone for a very long time and eventually wondering where you began - in anything. Many of those songs were written when I wasn’t in touch with very many home truths. Since then I have got a little more in touch, but it’s more about being young and looking around. The line ‘seeing through plastic eyes’ comes in here. It’s got a lot to do with living in one place and feeling like you want to explode. It’s the same thing with everyone in our generation in this city, I’m sure. Everyone’s gonna do something, whether it’s being Prime Minister, or a movie star or astronaut. Of course, most people don’t become the ‘astronaut’, so it’s got a lot to do with that internal swelling and rage that builds up in you. You can end up fairly frustrated and erm, smash your bass guitar that you don’t have the money to pay for. And end up in a lot of debt."

I Am Stone (acoustic version)

Séamus: "The mellow version. It features the wicked Juno 6 played by Mick Wordley. He set it up through a Vox amp and played it really loud."

You play separate shows acoustically, and I must commend you on them. I’d have to say reckøning are the only band I’ve seen that don’t sound either wanky or limp in that setting. You don’t do that half-arsed "unplugged" deal-reckøning acoustic is an entirely different beast from reckøning electric. You make it feel like a celbration. It also seems to be incredibly popular and always well received.

Matt: "We only do it because we love it, we don’t do it because it was popular for a bit; we all hate that stuff. We play acoustically in practise a lot and we’re really very comfortable with it. We look at them as special shows, a special event."

Dedicated to Tribal, Stanley and the Weird Kids.

Rip It Up magazine
10/97

Come Back reckøning

Reckøning are finally releasing that eagerly awaited, full-length CD release. Cue: a thousand screaming kids yell ‘YEAH!!!!’ It’s a multi-titled gem (take your pick: reckøning, the symbiotic sounds of reckøning or shutup!) that’ll comprise an EP of their very latest material and a whole bunch of material from their long since deleted, original demo tapes - all previously unavailable on CD.

In a very candid and open conversation, Pete (drums and harmony) and Séamus (vocals and bass) told me what the future holds. Be warned if you’re expecting our usual hijinks, think again. They’re at the end of a hard, five year cycle of reviewing where to go next. What follows is an honest account of where they’re at-depending on what’s said the day after the gig, this could even be their last ever live appearance. Scary isn’t it?

Séamus: "BongdamongGong is the newest song on the CD. It took us a helluva long time to write. We squeezed it out of us over a six month period of torture, but it is a good song for all of that. It means stop smoking so much pot and get your shit together."
It doesn’t take a genius to work out who he’s referring to.

Séamus: "We just didn’t practise in Melbourne. I think we were still letting other things disturb our mental processes. It would have been nicer to go there and work on material, being away from everything. But it didn’t really work like that. There was still a lot to be worked through."

Pete: "We felt it was important to release that early stuff because it was so instrumental to our growth. When this comes out, that’s all of it. It’ll either be a brand new reckøning or new projects."

Séamus: "It went crazy after Weird Kids came out. Really now will be the testing time. The day after the launch we’ll be having a round table meeting to discuss the future of the band, to sort out what everybody wants. We’ve just been leaving it in limbo for the moment to concentrate on getting this disc out. There’s enough stuff on there to rap up a neat little five year period. Everything we do from now is going to be different or rearranged. I doubt anyone wants to do it the same again..."

Pete: "It’ll have to be a complete rebirth. Unless that happens we won’t do any more. For the last six months we haven’t been able to get anything done."

"It’s always an if." Séamus nervously smiles. "I’d like to see the three of us happy with what we’re doing. If that’s within the context of the band, then good. There’s no time now for us to push through some misguided sense of duty. There’s no point in being miserable."

They’re the words of a band under strain. One thing often forgotten is how destructive success can be - sometimes far more so than failure. The pressure to keep the standards up can be quite exhausting. The most common symptoms come when a band turns against each other out of frustration. I hope that’s not what’s happening here, reckøning have done as well as an unsigned band could in their home state. Personally, I hope like hell nothing bad happens to them. Their unique chemistry has produced such fierce devotion and loyalty that it can even inspire a jaded fuck like myself. That kind of magic - which I’m sure puzzles many of their peers - only comes around once in a while. Those who don’t get it probably never will. The weird kids understand...that’s all that matters. If the near future is going to be sans reckøning, stupid just ain’t a strong enough word...

Nazz (bongdamonggong)

The Advertiser newspaper
8/10/97

Local lads reckning have just completed six months of r’n’r. That doesn’t stand for rest and relaxation, or even rock’n’roll. It stands for a refreshed reckøning.

"We’ve been doing this coming up to five years now," explains Séamus. "We were definitely zealots when we were younger but now, well, now we’re just chillin’. We’re more interested in just making music now rather than trying to be legends."

Peter Owen agrees. "We’re old enough now to have some sort of perspective on what we’re doing," he says. "I feel positive now to any music we do for the future. Everyone has caught up with themselves as to where they are and where we head next. We’ve gotten over party fever. We’re not making any rules for the future. We’re just going to do whatever comes naturally."

So now reckøning is about to release its third album – to complete a trilogy of sound, if you like. Containing a mammoth 20 tracks, the first five are new, the other 15 comprising "demos we had lying around". "This one’s more a consolidating CD, catching up with ourselves and contemplating on life a bit," says Séamus. So why the change in sound? Why this more "chilled" approach to music for one of the stayers of the local scene?

"Life changes. Views change. It’s just growing. I don’t think reckøning is trying to keep up with anybody else. We’re just trying to keep ourselves occupied and interested in what we do," says Séamus.

Rod Savage

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