Sun God Replica
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Sun God Replica

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Consequently, Lindsay McLennan (AKA Link McLennan, AKA Link Meanie, AKA Snack Pack) is as hungover as a bastard having been hard at it the night prior. “I’m having to concentrate here so that I’m not using ‘fuck’ for every second word,” he says.         

 

That said, McLennan’s having a good day in what’s been an even better week. His engagement to the band’s splendidly named Spanish publicist Eneida Fever was publicly announced and today his sore head is being soothed in a country idyll. “It’s a beautiful day and I’m surrounded by animals and Loki, who’s also an animal,” McLennan jokes. “Chooks, cats, birds – I feel like Ace Ventura.”

 

A love letter to ‘60s and ‘70s fuzzed out guitar, Sun God Replica formed circa 2009, initially with a fairly singular purpose. “It started as a one-off project – as a Jesus and Mary Chain cover band,” McLennan says. “We wanted to play Psycho Candy in its entirety. We started doing that and realised that it was a hell of a lot of work for one show, why don’t we just form a band and we took it from there.” McLennan is being modest – the band didn’t just “take it from there,” they ran like they stole something. 

 

McLennan, also known as frontman of Melbourne punk legends The Meanies and the now defunct Bakelite Age, is partial to his Playstation. For instance, he was glued to it while others were busy organising Grandular Fever’s launch, although he’s quick to point out that it’s not a total time waster. “The recording process actually starts with me demoing the songs using the Playstation to make my drum tracks,” he says. “Then I record on a little digital four track and I send the songs to the guys and Lochie [Cavigan] makes the drums more interesting and Tim [Pickering – AKA Lance Swagger] makes the bass more interesting, then we go to the studio.

 

“Those guys are great, they’ll have the songs down just listening to them, so we don’t have to rehearse that much. Then, we go into the studio with Loki. I’ve got a long history recording with him, so we’ve got our process down. We record for about six hours, have a fight and then work for another six hours and always hug after five minutes of normally me getting grumpy – we kiss, make up and keep going.”

 

The band’s proficiency didn’t mean less time in the studio though – in fact, the reverse.  Sun God Replica turned off the clock and put in countless experimental hours on Grandular Fever. So, what does that mean in practical terms for the album? “It makes for a more well-rounded sonic experience for the listener,” McLennan says, using his best radio voice. “Basically, it just means that we got to iron out kinks and do some of the other little things that you wouldn’t ordinarily do with time constraints. The major thing was going through the recording with a fine-toothed comb and fixing every little thing that could possibly niggle us later on and filling the sonic gaps that might be in a recording that you haven’t had as much time to work on. It’s probably the best album I’ve ever written, so I wanted to make sure it sounded the best too.”

   

McLennan has previously described himself as a rock nazi in relation to Sun God Replica’s methodology for recording, but says he slackened the reins on Grandular Fever.

 

“I’ve learned to loosen up and let Lockie and Tim do their thing and have more input. Before it came from having written the demos and the songs completely and saying, ‘Nuh, they’re done,’ – but it’s a little arrogant to assume that there are parts that can’t be done better by people who know what they’re doing.”

 

By Meg Crawford