Here’s five tracks as chosen by Giuliano Ferla, songwriter and vocalist from Melbourne synth pop outfit FERLA, ahead of the release of their debut album It’s Personal on April 9.
How willing are we to give our power and autonomy away? How easy is it? And once we’ve given our power to someone, how do we reclaim it? The singer draws a line between two memories, two times when she lost possession of herself. But the singer is not the victim. This song speaks to me of reclamation. The singer owns her vulnerability. The singer gets her body back. Cracking groove too.
Jess Ribeiro – Chair Stare
Jess is one of my faves. A true artist. Her melodies are so natural, they are like an extension of her body; fluid and elegant and immediate. I’m pretty lucky to count Jess is one of my close friends and I’ve learnt a lot from her about being an artist and about being a human being. I cannot contain my excitement about her new record.
I Know Leopard – Heather
Incredible chorus. Maybe my fave chorus this year. Like their other single “Landmine”, I Know Leopard callback to Electric Light Orchestra and other 70s pop-dagginess and excess. I remember a story about Jeff Lynne and how he used to write most of ELO’s music in the studio. Occasionally he’d have writer’s block so to get over it he’d jump into his Porsche and drive at top speed through the streets of LA before bursting back into studio overflowing with ideas. So daggy, so excessive, so great. I Know Leopard summon all this up for me.
Constant Mongrel – Living in Excellence
Because there’s so much excellent punk and DIY music at the moment in Melbourne, from Moody Beaches to Bench Press to U-Bahn to Total Control. It’s a really diverse scene and it’s a lot of fun. It’s not like I think we’re playing punk music or anything, but I’m not a huge fan of the separation of music by genre into different scenes and clubs to the exclusion of others. It’s all music. It’s all expression. It’s all a great time.
Batpiss – Weatherboard Man
In this speech to the National Press Club last year, Richard Flanagan lays out the failings of contemporary Australia, in particular politics, with respect to its relationship with our First Peoples. It’s pretty scathing, but it also offers a very practical and meaningful way to mend it. Flanagan holds up a mirror. Batpiss do it too. Both these things, the speech by Flanagan and the album by Batpiss, found me at about the same time early last year. They both prompted a bit of rethinking of personal and national identity in myself and so are both inextricably linked to one another somewhere in my head.