They’re not rich, they’re not household-name famous and they’d laugh in your face if you called them rock stars. THE AMITY AFFLICTION talk with SOPHIE BENJAMIN about creative differences, censorship and what it takes to patch in to the club. 

The Amity Affliction are the worst-known successful band in Australia.

It’s been two years since their breakthrough album Youngbloods debuted at #6 on the ARIA chart, but shows on the launch tour for their upcoming album Chasing Ghosts have already sold out.

Even Reece Mastin, the teenage winner of the last season of The X Factor, performs at Westfield shopping malls around the country clothed in Amity merch.

“I was getting Oporto the other day and the girl next to me was wearing an Amity shirt,” says guitarist Troy Brady, laughing.

“She had no idea who I was, but that’s what happens when you have a bass player as pretty as ours. I’m the merch guy. Story of my life!”

“I never thought we’d be the kind of band that sells out multiple nights at the Tivoli,” says vocalist Joel Birch.

“I still don’t! We spent years doing entire tours where the the best show of the tour would have 20 people show up.”

Bass player and vocalist Ahren Stringer agrees.

“We did tour like that for years, but we weren’t taking it as seriously as we should’ve for a lot of that time. We were pretty wasted and having fun, but I think we wasted a lot of time. Maybe we could’ve been where we are now a few years ago.”

The band spent the better part of 2011 touring Youngbloods internationally, making a few quick trips back down under to play Cairns, Perth and almost everywhere in between – including an Italian restaurant run by bikies in Rockhampton.

Earlier this year the band decamped to Orlando, Florida to record with Michael ‘Elvis’ Baskette – a producer with a long history of making heavy music sound radio-friendly.

Birch was determined to get better performances down on this record.

“At the start of [recording] Youngbloods my voice gave out and I’m still not happy with how I sang on that record. This time around we’d come off tour a month earlier and my voice was still warm. That’s how I’ve always wanted to record, but I wasn’t really able to make it happen until now.”

Brady and Stringer emailed song fragments back and forth between tours before spending a few weeks putting the final ten demos together at Brady’s house.

“Troy and I have been writing together for so long now that we know what we want out of a song and don’t have to stress about it too much,” says Stringer.

“I want every song to work. I want breakdowns, I want sing-a-longs, I want heavier bits – just as much diversity in each song as we can manage.”

Brady agrees.

“I think this time around, we wanted to write something more aggressive and based around a live scenario. The heavier bits are always the most fun to play live, and we’ll be doing plenty of that over the next year or so.”

“When it comes to writing, I don’t think a lot has changed,” says Stringer.

“We have got better at doing it though, as well as figuring out what each other’s strengths and weaknesses are.”

One of those strengths is knowing when to speak up, and when it’s better to stay silent.

“We’re all really good friends, but there are certain things we don’t need to talk about and my weird depressed lyrics are one of them,” says Birch.

“I mean, it’s not like they don’t care about how I’m doing, but it’d be like if Troy started talking to me about guitars and effects pedals. I’m stoked when he and Ahren write stuff that sounds great, but I’m not really that interested in how they got to that point.”

Birch is responsible for nearly all the lyrical content, even though he and Stringer share lead vocals. Youngbloods’ lyrics saw Birch wrestling not just with dark thoughts and depression, but the consequences of turning those thoughts into actions.

The album’s opening couplet Seems like forever since I tore myself apart / left my friends in the wake just about sums it up. Birch says he’s kept a hold of those ideas and continued to explore them.

“It’s the same topic, but I’ve approached it from a completely different angle. I usually write lyrics completely for myself and don’t really explain them to anyone, but this time around I really wanted other people to connect with what I’m singing about – even more than they maybe did with the last album.”

The band’s found out the hard way that talking openly about suicide and mental health can provoke a very different reaction to singing about it. The new album’s artwork shows a man’s body next to a tree – it’s unclear weather he’s hanging or floating, as the neck and head are out of the shot.

Birch took to Twitter to voice his frustration – “Write an album about trying to kill myself and failing and that’s OK. Put someone floating in the air on a cover and it’s a problem.”

“There’s a cloud of secrecy that hangs over mental health in this country,” he explains.

“There’s a lot of pride, particularly with males, in that if you can’t see an injury then you’re not injured – and that’s nonsense. The stigma is still there and that’s what drives people towards killing themselves – it’s the lack of support around them. If we can help reduce that, then I think we’re doing a good thing.”

“I’m not talking about violence and killing people. That sort of shit happening in music really grates on me and I’m disgusted by it. I’m glads there are kids out there latching onto our music and maybe realising that bands can have substance and not just ‘breakdowns singing breakdowns singing kill your parents…’ “

“Everyone latches onto music in some way and if I can write lyrics that have a profound impact on someone’s life, then that’s amazing.”

Plenty of people do connect with Birch’s lyrics. They tattoo them onto their bodies, they sing along to them in their cars, they scream them out at shows. He gets emails and private messages from people all over the world who say they know exactly what he means.

“ It’s nice to read them, but it’s really hard because I do care and it can get a bit overwhelming. I do my best to write back if it needs a reply. I think the main thing I want people to know is that there are places where they can get help if they need it. I try with music and I hope that that’s enough. Maybe it’s not.”

Birch says maintaining his mental health is still a struggle, particularly with the weird hours and disjointed living situation that comes with being in a full-time touring band.

“I’m definitely in the clear in terms of suicide, but it’s a constant thing,” he says quietly.

“I still get bad anxiety sometimes, but I’ve got better at managing it. There are people with great lives who are depressed, but I try to think about the extremely positive things I have going on around me.”

He chuckles. “I really have a total cracker of a life, and I’m glad I’m able to appreciate it.”

Things are going so well for him, in fact, that Chasing Ghosts will contain Amity’s first-ever love song.

“Yeah, that was pretty wild – putting it out there,” he says, almost embarrassed.

“We’re not really that kind of band and I don’t think it will ever be played live, but it’s something I really wanted to write.”

The band tracked the album as a four-piece (more about that later) and finished ahead of schedule.

“I’m so proud of how we worked together,” says Brady.

“We’ve pushed ourselves to the best of our abilities and we love the album we’ve written, but…”

He sighs, then laughs nervously.

“Well, we finished tracking more than a month ago. It’s a little over a month out from the release date and we haven’t heard the final mixes.”

Um, what?

“It’s been a nightmare,” he groans.

“We heard [Baskette’s] early mixes and weren’t happy with them, so we decided to get them mixed elsewhere. He hasn’t exactly been co-operative and now the whole thing is around a month late.”

“You basically trust someone to be part of a really personal thing that you’ve worked really hard on and it’s really beyond business. Music is more than just business when you’re being creative and in that kind of environment.

“In the end it got stripped back down to business on his end and that was incredibly disappointing.”

Stringer says the sour ending was unexpected.

“We all felt pretty comfortable with Elvis and all the songs were already written before we went in. It was probably the easiest recording we’ve ever done.”

“I feel that we did our job and did it really well, and as soon as it was out of our hands things went wrong,” Brady continues.

“We weren’t reliant on a producer to write our songs or play our instruments for us.”

Was that part of the problem though?

He winces.

“I don’t know. It’s a really touchy subject. I’ve kind of said all I can to him and I have to let the dust settle.

“The lesson that I’ve learned is that something this personal, you don’t let it get out of your hands.”

These latest dramas are the latest in a long line of beefs and blues over outside influences. Burt and Stringer have been in bands together since they were 12 years old and started Amity in their hometown of Gympie in 2003. Birch joined in 2004 and around half a dozen other musicians have played under the Amity name since then.

“See, it looks like there’s been a lot of people through the line-up,” Birch says testily, “but there hasn’t really.”

“There’s been the same 4 dudes for the last 6 years and a few guitarists and a keyboard player. That’s it.”

Brady is a little more blunt.

“It’s been a pain in my fucking arse! You have no idea how frustrating it is to be teaching people songs you’ve been playing for 7 or 8 years. That said, we got to spice things up with some new experiences and have some different personalities come through the band. Sometimes it was great, but often it didn’t really work.”

The latest departure is second guitarist Imran Siddiqi, who broke the news on Twitter – of course.

“We’re a weird band with weird chemistry and I honestly think it’s too late in the piece to recruit another band member,” Birch says wearily.

“It’d be like being married and deciding to bring in another wife!”

“I think we’re better off getting fill-in guitarists as we tour,” says Stringer.

“That way we’re not getting anyone’s hopes up about becoming a permanent member and then having to deal with another headache when it doesn’t work out.”

The group is a little territorial, and rightly so.

“It’s like, you’re in a band for 10 years – someone doesn’t just join and start throwing their weight around,” says Brady.

“As stupid as it sounds, it’s a bit like a bikie club. You do your time before you’re allowed to patch in. I feel like if someone came in and give me five years of their life I’d be like yeah, you deserve it… but it is about getting what you put in.”

“We’ve put our entire well-being into this band and built what we have now from absolutely nothing. So for someone to come in and claim part of this thing that all of us hold so dear, it’s an uncomfortable situation.”

Brady says they’ll bring a friend in to play second guitar on the Australian launch tour, but it’s unlikely they’ll take an extra person on their overseas dates.

“We still kind of do everything ourselves, because when we’re overseas it’s too expensive to have a team with us.”

“Touring Australia means we can bring our friends with us – people who’ve been around for 7 or 8 years. We’re still pretty self-reliant, but it’s always nice to have people around you care about what you do. It’s a real treat.”

There’s an excellent chance Chasing Ghosts will debut higher on the charts and bring in another round of award nominations for the band – not that Birch cares.

“What is that kind of stuff worth, really? It’s nothing. Seeing kids at the end of the show like, fucking crying and genuinely elated – they make it worth it. We are absolutely nothing at all without the people who come to the shows.”

The crew behind the classic skate doco Dogtown and Z-boys have refocused their lenses on the iconic Vans Warped Tour, a rite of passage for American kids for the last two decades.  The tour plays 46 cities across the US every summer, and has paid visits to Australia and Europe. With the world’s biggest touring music festival entering its 18th year, Sophie Benjamin talks punk history and celebrating the now with founder Kevin Lyman.

No Room for Rockstars follows bands at the top of their game such as Suicide Silence, as well as Californian pop punk band Forever Came Calling, who follow the tour selling their demo CD from a beat-up van.
The bands are front and centre of the Warped Tour experience, but it’s founder Kevin Lyman’s tireless work ethic, flexibility and zest for moving with the times that keeps people coming back.

“I’d been around music and touring for more than a decade when I started Warped, and I’d seen insignificant things like the size of a band’s logo or the location of a dressing room become fodder for bands to lord over one another,” says Lyman.
“I wanted Warped to be an equaliser, and for the bands that’s mostly how it is. Sure, some bands might have better transport than others, but once they arrive at the show, everyone’s equal.”

Throughout the film, it’s clear that Lyman’s attitude has filtered  through to all the bands and staff on the tour. Longtime Warped Tour crew members gush about their boss, praising his commitment to treating everyone from cleaners to the headlining band with fairness and good humour.

A few dates into the tour, Lyman decides to hold a special barbecue for the drivers and support staff to thank them for all their hard work. He’s cooking pork chops and sausages at the grill when he sees a redheaded guy walking past, looking a little lost.
Lyman drags him over to the barbecue and loads up his plate, despite the guy’s embarrassed protests about crashing the barbecue. The pair shake hands and swap introductions and it turns out the redheaded guy is Enter Shikari guitarist Rory Clewlow.
“I did not expect Kevin Lyman to be out doing the barbecue,” Clewlow tells the camera crew, amazed.

Unlike some promoters, Lyman knows exactly what it’s like to be doing the heavy lifting.
“I come from a production background. My thing was loading trucks and throwing people off stage, so I’ve pretty much done those jobs that people are doing for me now,” he explains.
“So I can relate to them on that level, but I also know if you take a moment to show you care about them, they will go miles for you. It doesn’t come to ‘Just pay me this’, everyone just bands together.”

Warped Tour doesn’t leave everyone feeling warm and fuzzy, with many taking issue with the increasing level of branding and product placement on what began as a counter-culture event. It’s even too much for some of the bands.
Halfway through the film, Never Shout Never frontman Christofer Drew Ingle tells the camera crew he’s “bummed out” by the rampant commercialism of the festival. Having just played a solo acoustic set sponsored by car brand Kia, he condemns Warped as one big sell-out. “It’s all about the now bands and now clothing companies trying to make some money,” he declares, vowing never to return to the event.

Lyman’s heard it all before.
“I don’t mind arguing, but I do get tired of the same dumb questions,” he says testily.
Out of the 46 shows on the 2011 tour, just seven of them paid for themselves through ticket prices and assorted other fees. The other 39 were subsidised by advertising and sponsorships from the hundreds of brands eager to partner with the iconic festival.“In some ways I wish it could be pure, but without all the sponsors there simply wouldn’t be a Warped Tour.”

Another beef of older punks is the the changing direction of the line-up. The festival started out as a launching pad for bands such as No Doubt and Sublime, with punk stalwarts The Bouncing Souls and Bad Religion also Warped Tour regulars.
“Those are the bands I love and grew up with, but the average age of someone going to Warped Tour is between 13 and 19,” Lyman explains.

“There’s other stuff going on now in cities that focus on older bands and sure, you can pull that off in places like Chicago and LA, but the show won’t be supported in places like Kansas City. Not a lot of  40 and 45 year olds come to Warped tour any more. Dudes my age don’t want to hang out in a hot parking lot all day. We always pay homage to our history, but I tell bands, ‘don’t listen to people try to tell you how it was in the 70s, 80s, 90s, whatever – it’s 2012. Now is your time.’”

This summer, Lyman will balance his Warped Tour commitments with his company’s other touring festivals – the metal-focused Mayhem and the confusingly named Country Throwdown.
He’s quick to confirm where his loyalties lie.
“I’ll be checking in on the other festivals, but my heart and soul is in the Warped Tour parking lot.”

No Room for Rockstars Trailer:

More than 200 years ago, the first white settlers arrived on the shores of Terra Australis. 
They’d left the dingy hovels of the British Isles behind and were determined to make sure colonial outposts were spread across the new country.

 It was an admirable way to start a new British colony, but a pain in the neck for anyone who wanted to see anything more than a 10 minute walk from their birthplace. 
The fact that many early explorers were killed by wild animals or simply perished after taking a wrong turn was hardly testament to the virtues of leaving the city.

Australia now boasts modern conveniences like bitumen roads and indoor plumbing, but people who live in the city are still a bit suspicious of those who don’t.  
Fortunately, the foolhardy optimism of those 19th century adventurers lives on in the form of bands on tour.

AHM’s Sophie Benjamin spoke to those bands who’ve followed the highways named after those early explorers in the name of music and adventure. 


I went to boarding school in the central Queensland city of Rockhampton, also known as the Beef Capital of Australia. There wasn’t a lot to do, so we were pathetically grateful for any bands that came our way.
Frenzal Rhomb was one of those bands, and I remember sneaking into the local uni’s Birdcage Bar to see them play nearly ten years ago.

FRENZAL RHOMB

“That tour was extraordinary, even for us!” frontman Jay Whalley says down the phone from Sydney, laughing.

“We were on the road with Strung Out and played everywhere that would have us.

“I think we ended up doing, like, 70 shows without a break and it was incredibly physically taxing. Often we’d drive 1000km overnight, play an all-ages show in the afternoon, an 18+ one at night and then get back in the van.”

Playing two shows a day was partially a financial decision.  Even with the proceeds of a regional touring grant from the Australia Council, the bands were still relying on merch sales to keep themselves stocked up on petrol and beer.

“It can be really difficult to do those sort of tours and make it financially viable,” Whalley explains.

“But I think every band should play in the regions at least once, especially if you’re based in a city.

“There’s this misconception that people who live outside major cities are bogans who listen to Cold Chisel and that’s not always true.

“Australia is such a big country with so many different kinds of people and so many bands go overseas before they’d go somewhere like Cairns.”

Frenzal is about to get back in the van for a series of shows in Far North Queensland, the Gold and Sunshine Coasts and the central coast of New South Wales.

They’re also trekking over to Western Australia, where Whalley says the locals are particularly friendly. “We were in Esperance at the bottom of Western Australia, when a guy came up to us after the show and said “I’ll show you the most fun you can have for a dollar in Esperance.’

“He took us to the local laundromat and we got in the driers and spun around.  Gordy disappeared for a while and then came back wearing a skeleton suit.

“It was a bit warm and suffocating, but it was either that or play pool at the pub, so…”

PARKWAY DRIVE & THE AMITY AFFLICTION

Parkway Drive and The Amity Affliction are far-and-away Australia’s most commercially successful purveyors of heavy music. They’re also both from regional areas and have spent plenty of time on the road in the middle of nowhere.

“Coming from Byron, we know what it’s like to be skipped over by bands you like,” says Parkway Drive guitarist Luke Kilpatrick.

“It’s great that we have the opportunity to change that, because I really like touring regional Australia. It’s the whole experience – driving along big stretches of country, sleeping outside – it’s an adventure!”

The first incarnation of The Amity Affliction formed in the south-East Queensland town of Gympie, two hours north of Brisbane.

While vocalist Joel Birch didn’t join until a couple of years later, he’s still racked up his share of hire-van kilometres.

“The experiences on those sort of tours lend themselves to a deeper appreciation of the country we live in. If you stay cocooned up in your own city-bound world, how are you ever going to grow past that?

“For me, the best thing is getting to see places we would never have even thought to visit and quite often, they’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Both bands have fond if hazy memories of their early regional tours, but it wasn’t always fun all the time.

“We started playing more shows in a shorter time span, so all the camping and sitting in a car really takes a toll on your body,” Kilpatrick explains.

“ Touring when you’re sick sucks, so eventually the promise of a warm supportive place to sleep takes priority.”

“It was a bit rough in the early days,” says Birch. “There were a few times where we’d play to five or six people, although at that point we were probably so drunk we didn’t care.

“Eventually we realised people liked what we were doing and got our shit together.

“By then the crowd numbers had grown to a reasonable amount of people attending, so it was just really fun getting to all these out-of-the-way places.”

These days neither band has trouble pulling a crowd, and both relish the opportunity to play more intimate shows.

“I’ve heard bands say in the past that regional areas ‘appreciate it more’ but I don’t think that’s necessarily being fair,” says Birch.

“There are people in both places that feel really passionately about the music they listen to and the bands they go and see, and playing to a crowd that is just as into it as you are is what makes it enjoyable.”

“Regional shows have a unique vibe,” muses Kilpatrick.

“Plus you’ve got the small stage, low ceilings, no barriers… we love it, which is why we keep going and doing them.””

Most of Parkway Drive still call Byron Bay home, and when asked if bands need to move to the city to be successful, Kilpatrick answers with an emphatic ‘no’.

“I think it’s pretty pointless these days. I’d rather drive ten hours return to play a weekend of shows than live in a city area and play club nights every week,” he explains.

“If you write good music it’ll come into demand, but even the best stuff gets tiresome after seeing or hearing it four weeks in a row.”

Birch is less sure.

“Living in a city doesn’t hurt, but it’s not imperative either.

“I think if a band has a really strong work ethic and they’re willing to lose money for years on end -  which is what happens – and still tour unrelentingly, anything’s possible.”

FRANK TURNER

It’s not often international acts venture outside Australia’s capital cities, but singer-songwriter Frank Turner is determined to do things differently. His most recent tour included solo shows in Alice Springs, Darwin and Far North Queensland in addition to his full-band dates in metropolitan areas.

“I’m a bit magpie-ish about it,” he explained down the phone line from London, in between rehearsals for his huge shows at Wembley Stadium.

“I really like seeing new places and I’ve never been to the Northern Territory or Cairns before, so if there’s an opportunity to play there I’ll definitely take it.”

Turner gushes about how much he’s enjoyed previous Aussie tours, citing the crowds and the travel as his favourite parts.

“A lot of bands see Australia as the sort of place you trek out to maybe every three or four years and I don’t want to be like that. That said, it is a really long haul to get there, so I really want to play as many shows as I can.

“We’re actually going to New Zealand too. We figured we might as well – what’s a couple more hours on a plane when you’ve already come from the other side of the world?”

EPIDEMIC…OVER

While Frenzal, Amity and Parkway have all moved on from the days of playing small shows everywhere to small amounts of people, up-and-coming alternative rock band Epidemic… Over are still slogging it out.

Based in Tannum Sands on the central Queensland coast, the boys have just finished a launch tour for their latest EP ‘Long Way Home’, which saw them play shows with Closure in Moscow in capital cities along the east coast and regional centres everywhere else.

I managed to catch vocalist Nathan Bedford before the band’s set at an all ages show in Rockhampton, headlined by the Mission in Motion.

“Regional shows are always heaps of fun, but from a business point of view they don’t make sense,” he says a little wearily.

“We’re playing this show, an in-store at JB Hi-FI tomorrow morning and then a show in Mackay tomorrow night. I’ve really been looking forward to this weekend but we’ll probably break even.”

Bedford’s quick to emphasize the band does enjoy playing the regions, despite all the difficulties that go with the territory.

“It’s tough but it’s definitely the funnest. We end up camping in national parks, driving through weird places and if we’re camping near a beach, Scoot (bass player Scott Rogers) always tries to catch our dinner for us.

“He does this thing  we call the pipi pipi shake, where he walks into the ocean, digs his heels into the wet sand and shakes his hips. Then he scoops out all these little pipis (little shellfish similar to clams) and we cook them on the fire.”

Bedford says while the crowds are appreciative, it’s often hard to find good support bands for their regional shows.
I ask him if he thinks that’s because local musicians inevitably move to metropolitan areas.

“Yeah, that might be the case. Regional areas are also pretty overwhelmed with scenes, and not fitting in to those scenes makes it a bit more difficult for us. I mean, Parkway Drive could come here and pull more than a thousand people. You get someone like The Getaway Plan or the Mission in Motion who have had more commercial success and you get maybe 200 like today. And that’s a free show!”

Epidemic… Over will be staying in Tannum Sands for the foreseeable future. Bedford’s fiance is pregnant and the mining boom means the band can work lucrative day jobs while still touring regularly.

“If we lived in the city it might be easier to tour, but we’d be working shitty jobs and spending more money going out,” says Bedford.

“It’s much of a muchness, really.”

DREAM ON DREAMER

While bands with small-town beginnings are keen to play the regions, bands from major cities are often more hesitant.
Melbourne’s Dream On Dreamer are a rare exception. They’re about to do a quick whip-around of regional Australia, having have just returned from a grueling US tour.

“I love regional shows! You meet some funny characters in those small towns,” says bass player and vocalist Michael McLeod.

“It’s also really great to meet people who might’ve been fans of the band for years, but haven’t been able to see us live because of where they live.”

Regional touring is tiring and expensive, but playing shows in Melbourne isn’t a cakewalk either.

Bands in other cities might struggle to draw a crowd due to lack of interest, but in Melbourne, the music-loving public has the choice of half a dozen shows to attend every night of the week.

Melbourne crowds have plenty of other options, and bands must work hard to attract an audience and hold their attention.

It’s no wonder Dream On Dreamer like playing the regions so much.

“The crowds might be smaller, but they are just so into it,” McLeod explains.

“We’ve travelled hours to play to a room of fifty kids, but it’s more fun to play that sort of a gig than play to hundreds of people who are just waiting for the next band.”

So, is it worth it?

“Every single show is worth it. You never know who’ll be in that scout hall or small pub room and what effect your music or words could have on them.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re playing for 20 people or 2000, every one there deserves a show they’ll remember, and we try our hardest to give it to them.”

Read more in the latest issue of Australian Hysteria Magazine. You can find it for sale in most Australian newsagencies for $9.99

Published in the March 2011 issue of Triple J Magazine.