EP Review: Babaganouj ‘Hard To Be’
2007 was a heady year for Brisbane. The Brisbane Broncos, after winning the 2006 NRL Premiership, were enduring a much leaner time. We were lining up like lemmings behind our man Kevin Rudd, sweeping him on a tide to Parliament House before realising what a mistake we’d made, and a charming, low-budget indie film called ‘All My Friends Are Leaving Brisbane’ was released to minimal fanfare.
It is Babaganouj that I always think of when I (re)watch this film. Not just because the closing track on their latest EP ‘Hard to Be’ is titled Going to Melbourne, but the band has an intrinsic grasp on the Brisbane condition and express it in a way that is neither too defeatist nor optimistic. And so they should, feeling the listless stasis of Brisbane, picking up a guitar and starting a band is the most Brisbane thing possible.
This is an EP of two-halves. Tracks one, two, and five are thoughtful, longing tracks that wouldn’t seem out of place in a Go-Betweens compilation. Meanwhile, the meaty heart of this release sees Babaganouj returning to the power-pop that has served them so well. This dichotomy speaks of a band that has both talent and ambition, wanting to expand their sonic palette whilst keeping their essential identity intact.
“It’s the calling card of mid-twenties ennui, made worse by a parochial city and a legacy of relationships that end suddenly, wrenchingly, hurtfully.”
Opening track Everything You Touch You Break clocks in at less than 90-seconds but exhibits the band’s growing maturity. It’s quite lo-fi really and builds into this sort of Lou Reed ‘Metal Machine Music’ screech at the end, and the shades of Go-Betweens are clearest in Charles Sale’s vocals, tinged with regret.
The emotional heart of this EP must surely be Cemetery. Although Sorry (lead single) and Interpol are both rollicking cuts that have every chance of finally bringing The Zoo’s ageing roof down on the sweating band-room it’s Cemetery that sees the trio in their loosest, jammiest, most insightful form.
It’s a sort of suburban wisdom, that of having knowledge yet being utterly unable to change anything as a result. Sale sounds at his most melancholic here, drawling repeatedly in the chorus, “Let me go, let me go, let me go/ I’m falling in a memory”. It’s the calling card of mid-twenties ennui, made worse by a parochial city and a legacy of relationships that end suddenly, wrenchingly, hurtfully. Of realising that Brisbane is a great place to grow up but a so-so place to live.
Sorry and Interpol are classic Babaganouj. Ruby McGregor and Harriet Pilbeam form a delectable bubblegum duo on Sorry, cresting a wave of scuzzy, caffeinated 90s guitar and a call-and-answer chorus. It’s deservedly the lead single. Interpol, meanwhile, though retaining the essential elements, meanders closer towards the nu-gaze stylings of the Pain of Being Pure at Heart, all dense guitar and less perceptible vocals.
“Here’s hoping Babaganouj find the sleepy rhythms of this town fulfilling enough to stay for a while longer, so we can continue to claim them for ourselves.”
Babaganouj are irresistible when singing about the trials and tribulations of dating, love, and wanting the affection of others. They exhibit all the hopeless charm and earnestness of Jim Levenstein from ‘American Pie’ or Ed from the short-lived ‘Slide’. It’s all footsies and longing gazes averted when the subject of desire looks your way, but at centre there is a dignity and gentleness to it.
As mentioned at the start, wanting to leave Brisbane is a common sentiment. “Everybody’s going to Melbourne/ they just can’t stand the summer”, is simply the latest attempt to wrap the urge in something beautiful and call it art.
However, there is a beauty in wanting to stay, too, and here Babaganouj reveal themselves as true creatures of Brisbane, “Well I guess I get the reason/ but I just can’t find the rhyme”. Here’s hoping Babaganouj find the sleepy rhythms of this town fulfilling enough to stay for a while longer, so we can continue to claim them for ourselves.
