Augie March
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Augie March

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Despite Donovan’s calm reassurance, six years is a hefty term of absence. Watch Me Disappear and its predecessor Moo, You Bloody Choir were both major commercial successes, which led to the largest scale shows of Augie March’s career. The extended length of the ensuing rest period suggests that being prized proponents of contemporary Australian culture had taken its toll on the band. Yet, Donovan again dismisses any negativity.

“[The Watch Me Disappear] tour was a lot of fun and it was really great and everyone had a good time. So when we played the last show, the mood was up and everybody was good. But it was also [good] to get away from it for a while as well.”

Watch Me Disappear came after more than a decade of non-stop work, so it’s no surprise the band members welcomed a break. The time away allowed each individual to effectively refresh and ensured they regrouped as a unanimously motivated unit. When this time came – initially, three years ago – the band weren’t scratching for a purpose.

“Glenn [Richards, vocals/guitar] has always got songs that require and demand your attention,” Donovan says, “so it didn’t feel like we were just getting back together for the sake of it. There was work to be done and music to be made.”

As has been the case with Augie March’s previous four releases, Richards penned all of Havens Dumb’s14 tracks. Each song deftly balances instrumental elegance, contemplative melodies and intricately wrought lyricism. The rest of the band’s task is to dutifully heed to the nuanced shapes of Richards’ compositions.

“The way we operate is just trying to treat each song on its merits,” Donovan explains. “Let the song take you where it wants to go and not try to steer the ship in another direction. Try to basically be a bit of a slave servant and do what you’re required to do.”

Putting together 14 songs in this manner is a process that could itself take several years. Astoundingly, the final collection was whittled down from a far greater batch of songs.

“There was probably somewhere around 50,” Donovan says. “We worked on the first bunch and then another collection of songs and another one. The songs sort of select themselves – the ones that are most suited to our outfit to go after and make progress with.”

Havens Dumb is the first Augie March record made without the backing of major label, Sony Music (formerly BMG). Instead of chasing down another record deal, the band chose to embrace their newfound independence.

“I think not having a deadline is a good thing and we could go at our own pace,” Donovan says. “Having said that, there is always a deadline and that’s usually your own sanity. There are things there that we could have done differently, but nobody will ever know that.”

Approaching the record as a listener, it’s hard to identify much in need of revision. Havens Dumb isn’t a major departure from the classic Augie March sound, but it does step into some novel territory, sonically and thematically. Succinctly articulating exactly what constitutes the ‘Augie March sound’ is nigh on impossible, but Donovan underlines one leading aspect.

“I would say it’s definitely Glenn’s voice. Glenn’s voice is pretty distinctive and as soon as you hear it, I think that’s our sound.”

Richards doesn’t just possess an unmistakable vocal croon – he’s also a wonderfully incisive poet. Havens Dumb is full of arresting lyrical content, which is liable to provoke constructive thought among discerning listeners. The chorus of album centerpiece Definitive History, for example, features a rather pointed barb at contemporary Australia: “One for the mother, one for the dad/ One for treasurer, one for the plasma screen/ And don’t forget the developer’s dream/ A tumour for them all in the belly of the sprawl.”

“As a songwriter, I think you’re allowed to bring up those things,” Donovan says. “You have to have a message.”

Havens Dumb is brimming with similar moments of constructive import, all of them reminders of Augie March’s unique cultural significance. Listeners’ sincere concern about whether Augie March would make another record draws attention to the proud sense of ownership many feel towards the band. This ties in with the fact that several Augie March compositions have been anointed modern Australian classics. Such a reputation could surely weigh down on a band, but Donovan says it wasn’t a present consideration upon plotting their return.

“Mainly the duty is to yourself and to do something that you can be proud of. I think that’s what our fans would expect – for us to do something that we like – and it’s up to them to interpret it any way that they want. It’s out of our hands at that point.”

BY AUGUSTUS WELBY