“I was just thinking, ‘Let’s write some tunes’,” says Oscar Dawson, who along with songwriting partner Timothy Carroll makes up the core of Holy Holy. “When Tim and I were first writing the material, it was thought of as Tim’s solo project. But I got my greasy mitts all over it to the extent that it was sort of no longer in his name. I wasn’t thinking about it too hard… I was just enjoying playing.”
Not only was the duo’s conception unplanned, but so was the writing of their debut record, a sombre and serene collection of folk rock tunes. They went off-road, striking out with no specific end-goal in mind.
“We embarked on a session, a few years ago, recording with our producer Matt Redlich in Brisbane,” says Dawson. “That became the first basis of the record. But that kept changing. The record kept developing and became a different record. We could have kept going forever, really. But we got to the point where we were like, ‘This is our album,’ and that was that.”
When The Storms Would Come was released to great critical fanfare, and on the strength of the record the band has played sold-out dates across the globe. Yet despite these highs, Dawson has managed to keep his head. In conversation he’s strikingly humble. Take his view on how to conquer pre-show nerves, for example.
“[It’s about] giving slightly less of a fuck as the years go by,” he says, grin almost audible over the phone. “When I was a lot younger, a teenager, I would get so nervous I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I would be like, ‘Why the hell am I even doing this? This is stupid. I hate myself right now.’ But that doesn’t happen anymore, thankfully. It’s just not worth me worrying about. If [the audience] like it, they do, and if they don’t, well… I mean, it’s not really my fault.
“It’s not that big a deal,” he laughs. “It’s almost egotistical to think it’s that big of a deal. You get all nervous, like, all wrapped up in yourself – you’re all taking yourself so seriously. Nobody else cares.”
Dawson has a similarly matter-of-fact take on the dreaded touring lifestyle. It’s an attitude that will no doubt keep him in good stead when Holy Holy hit the road for a string of dates behind their latest single A Heroine. It’ll be their last proper tour before boarding themselves up in the studio to begin work on album number two.
“I find touring ideal in a way, because I know where I need to be and when I need to be there. I just need to make sure I’m in the right place at the right time. All I need to do is hit those broad targets each day. And they’re not that hard to hit. And then I get to play music. And drink.”
Not that Dawson is blasé, mind, and he speaks candidly about the conflicts that arise from a shared creative process. When asked what affect a songwriting relationship has on a pair of mates, he replies quickly. “It fractures the friendship.” There’s a brief pause, then he laughs.
“I’m joking,” he says, but there is some truth to the jibe. “Often – not always, often – there is a bit of tension in the process. And so there should be, actually, I think. I think it’s important. Sometimes there have been songs I’ve written in the past [with other people] where it’s been like, ‘Yeah, that’s great, cool,’ and we just love ourselves and just love each other… and then [the song] might be a bit tepid.”
Writing with Carroll is different. He and Dawson often find themselves meeting in the middle, relishing the creative tension that arises from the writing process. And, after all – as Dawson readily admits – it’s “always in the pursuit of some higher goal.”
“There’s no one way that [songwriting] works best. Sometimes we just jam in the room and the idea just comes out. Things just sort of come. It’s a real to and fro. And where they start – it might be an iPhone recording or something – might have no bearing on how it ends up. But it’s still an important step on the way.”
Indeed, for both Dawson and Carroll, songwriting is a process of discovery. It always has been. “It might sound wanky,” says Dawson. “But it’s true. [The songs] just take you where they’re going to take you. You’ve got to go with it. And when you do let it happen, you go to places you never thought you would go to. You go, ‘Wow, I didn’t expect that would happen’.”
He exhales, a reflexive – some would say natural – sound of pleasure. “That’s always, always, the most exciting place to work.”
BY JOSEPH EARP
