Body Type’s string of singles has been as strong as anyone in recent years. ‘Silver’, ‘Arrow’ and ‘Palms’ are fantastic entry points to a band offering a vivid take on garage-rock, and prove that they’re to a band going in all the right directions. Today, the Australian band have packaged those songs into their debut EP titled, er, ‘Body Type’.
We’re still getting our head around the new offerings, but the band have very kindly offered the story behind each song.
Ludlow (Do You Believe In Karma?)
This is a new version of the first song we ever released, so it feels very nostalgic and sentimental to us. The original was recorded before we had ever even played it (or anything) live, so it has come a very long way since we shacked up in the attic of a sharehouse and tracked it all on borrowed gear with a mattress vocal booth. Now that we have played it 1000 times, it tells a different story. It feels like a song that is easy to personalise – we often see kindred spirits in the audience having a moment and singing along, which feels like a warm puppy sleeping on your chest.
Palms is a song driven by an awareness of the listener. It was written with the desire to get a crowd surging, sweat falling, limbs flailing – a metronomic, unleash-the-beast moment in our live set, and hopefully a 6am-double-strength-espresso-shot vibe in the context of the EP. It’s probably our most structurally complex song in terms of dynamic/interplay between all of us, and the biggest recording test for us to date – maybe also an accurate representation of where our sound is headed.
Everyone hates going to the dentist but we all have to do it. My dentist recently told me that preventatively getting wisdom teeth out is a lie though so… Anyway, this song is about heartache and toothache; taking stale pain and converting it into energy. Molars and l’amour. It’s our biggest amp up song when we play live – full of unbridled swagger and steeze.
A dissonant disco ripper set in suburbia, with a twisted breakdown full of surprise and seduction – the kind of stuff that goes on under the surface of all that small town neighbourly love. This is a song that requires intense concentration live and often makes guitar fingers feel lucid, completely isolated from the hand. Everyone locks in to a trance in this one – bass and guitar pirouette through a prickly rhythm, a real energy test.
One for the ages as we stare down our own existence and accept the greying hairs, fading relationships, different reflections. ‘Silver’ is sparkly and pulsing, but will somehow always feel melancholic to us. An ode to temporality.
A comedy in two parts – love and female force. A big eye roll at spicy lil Cupid, generous with his arrows but shocking with his aim. This song is a bolt of lightning when we play it live too – hairy and shrieky and thrashy and loaded like a bow about to shoot.