It seemed like an appropriate question to ask, considering Archer’s limited online presence and partially searchable identity. His label, Pound Records, call him the creator of songs that “follow the seams of Australia’s highways and railways, songs driven by a restless and pure geography.”
The founder and director of said record label, Martin Martini, suggested that our conversation with Archer be more about wildlife than music, because “he likes animals more than people, generally speaking.” It was valuable insight, as that’s precisely where the conversation went.
“I just reckon animals are pretty fucking amazing,” says Archer. “I’m outside somewhere, so got a pet sheep and some cats and dogs and stuff. I do a bit of wildlife rescue too, and that kind of thing.
“I mean, we are an animal, and we’re kind of like a bird in a cage. We haven’t really got our wildness. It’s a beautiful thing to be roaming wild and free, no water bottle, no candy bar, just your body and your fur or your skin, and just fucking seeing the sun rise and the sun set. It feels pretty good. They’ve definitely got a lot to teach us. And I don’t really like the way we’ve just destroyed their habitat.”
The man makes a good point. Archer proceeds to talk briefly of North Carolina, the place he was born and spent most of his pre-teenage years, but quickly moves on to his current home, Australia, and its ability to inspire him.
“Well, it’s a pretty fucking amazing country isn’t it? I like to get inspiration from the non-industrial world.” But where exactly? “Anywhere,” he says. “If the spirits want to talk to you, or if you haven’t slept for a couple of days and happen to be wandering around somewhere.”
Archer is nonchalant and prone to bouts of intense sarcasm, but he’s no fool. Maybe it’s because there’s zero pretentiousness to his sagacity, but shrouded in self-deprecation, his words feel strangely astute. And if you to listen closely, you’re likely to laugh a lot. Case in point: Archer mentions he’s launching a new charity. “It’s called Machine Guns for Kangaroos,” he says. “It’s about arming and training kangaroos.”
Why? “Just to give them a fighting chance really. Think about it – if you’ve got one tonne coming at you in the dark at 150 kilometres an hour, you obviously need something to be stacked on your side.”
Archer reveals he’s currently eating 30 bananas a day in order to address “some pretty serious health problems.” When he does eventually pass, he’d prefer to “stay on top of the ground, so the dingoes and crows can do what they do best.”
When the conversation eventually turns to his music (albeit briefly), it’s place that Archer talks about. Places have inspired songs such as Fire, Murray River, and Jesus Was a Man from his 2014 debut album, Old Time Sing Song Man.
“Dry and deserty, I like,” he says. “But it doesn’t really matter to me. It’s probably better if I haven’t been there. Maybe if I’m trying to hitchhike and I haven’t been picked up for a few days. That’s a pretty good time to write some songs. Or practise juggling, or whatever [laughs].”
In November, Archer will play with Mick Thomas and Jess Ribeiro as part of the Australasian Worldwide Music Expo (AWME). Of the approaching event, Archer gives his shortest answer yet. “I reckon it’ll be great.”
So who is Archer? It’s best captured in a review on his Bandcamp account: “No bullshit, no airs and graces, just great, old fashioned songs from a charming outsider.” It’s spot on, but Archer ensures he has the final, irreverent word, “I don’t think we had to pay him that much to write that either.”
BY IZZY TOLHURST
