Powderfinger Biography

The control room in Studio Two at Sunset Sound was pulsing to the sound of a new song called I Don't Remember. Benmont Tench (keyboard player extraordinaire from Tom Petty's band The Heartbreakers) sat next to me tapping his pen in time on a foolscap pad, whilst studiously jotting down chords and structural notes as the song progressed. It was his first listen to the song, which had been written in a hotel room and the studio only a couple of days before. As the last chord rang out he turned to a couple of us and smiled. 'I like that...,' he said. As I followed him out into the room where the organ and piano were set up he said, 'It reminds me of Buffalo Springfield.' 'Well that's a bit weird,' I replied, ' because when we were discussing how to arrange and present this song, we tried to model it on how the Heartbreakers would play it.' 'OK, that makes total sense then' said Benmont, 'because we were always trying to sound like Buffalo Springfield.'

And so it goes with music. The wheel turns its full circle. Little would we imagine that people like Tom Petty and his amazing band look so clearly to others that have come before them for inspiration. For us it was very humbling that someone with the credentials of Benmont (Petty, Bob Dylan, George Harrison to name a few) would see something of his own band in us. We were also very flattered by the fact that he had 'checked us out' before agreeing to come and play on our record, and that once he heard and played on the tunes, sincerely told us that he thought they were great.

In total we spent 9 weeks from January through to March in LA, getting to know the local bars in Hollywood. We made the beer garden at the Cat and Fiddle our local watering hole. None of us had ever spent that much time in LA before and it was certainly an eye opening experience to see both the real, and the unreal America in action for a sustained amount of time instead of the usual fleeting glimpse that is on offer when touring. The romance of the fabled wealth and excess of the world's entertainment 'capital' was blunted by the obvious poverty of the underclass that lives literally 'hand to mouth' on its streets. And here were we recording in one of rock music's most famous studios, in the shadow of The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Prince and dozens more.

This album is in no way supposed to present itself as a rehash of any period from the past. Nor is it designed to recast Powderfinger in some stunning new vein. It is simply an extension of our past efforts to write good songs, in an original way, and an attempt to communicate ideas to people that actually make them 'feel' something. Music that 'means' something to the people that hear it. Music that has an enduring quality. It is not an altogether common experience in this day and age. But of course it is there if you know where to look. It certainly sounds different to our past efforts, or so everybody keeps telling us anyway.

Our producer Rob Schnapf, whom we chose both for his work with bands like The Vines, Elliott Smith and Beck, and also because of his general ignorance of our music, is an LA resident so the decision to travel there was made easy for us. Despite an unfortunate run of illnesses throughout the recording (including a kidney stone!) Rob, along with engineer Doug Boehm, guided us through and moulded a brighter and less dense sound for us. We all like it and feel like it is a step forward for us.

Most of the dry, punchier rock songs that were featured on Vulture Street have given way to ones that are more atmospheric and less frenetic. It was a conscious move. There are songs about love, hope, disappointment, frustration, elation, romance, guilt, shame, apathy and redemption. Maybe this time with more of an emphasis on hope than ever before. In terms of styling, the songs range from spacey ballads (Nobody Sees, Wishing on the Same Moon) through guitar driven rockers (Who Really Cares, Surviving) to the gentle Black Tears which highlights the continuing neglect of Aboriginal concerns in Australia.

During the recording I was reading a book named The Brooklyn Follies by Paul Auster. One of the chapters in this book is called Dream Days at the Hotel Existence. The very phrase, with its escapist idealism and its myriad of characters seemed to sum up both the sound of the album itself, and the atmosphere in which it was created in a city as fascinating and repelling as LA.

It's difficult to assess, from inside a band, exactly where it is headed. For us, this isn't a great concern. It is better left to the pundits and the public to determine that. Now, what is ahead for us is to get out on the road and play these songs with purpose and a sense of fun that will rub off on the people who come to see us.

It should be a fun year and we are looking forward to touring more extensively than we ever have before.

Hopefully we will see you out there.

Cheers
Bernard (2007)