“It was the greatest thing ever,” Parsons says of the clip, which features the four dudes’ dads each on the Littles’ respective instruments: jamming, drinking tins, hanging out and just being generally delinquent. “They’d never really met; they’d kind of shaken hands and seen each other here and there. When you’ve been married and you’ve got kids and stuff there aren’t that many opportunities where you can just lose your mind. So these guys had that opportunity and just seized it. That’s my mum that walks past,” he says gleefully. At one point the row of dads are sloping against a wall and a mature lady passes: they all woop at her and then cheer one another. “She came over to drop over some sandwiches and stuff, and we said, ‘You’ve got to be in this.’ Just classic dad jokes all day, and we just sat there laughing for six hours.”
The approach to the clip reflects the band’s raw, hook-driven sound: affectation and tricks aren’t a part of the Littles’ mettle. “I reckon video clips are the pits,” Parson says. “You know when you see bands in fields, or by a river, something like that. And they’ve got all their amps there but there’s no microphones, or no leads, and they’re on sand dunes, and you’re like, ‘What are you there for? What does this mean?’ What a pain in the arse, getting all your fucking stuff there and back.” The band had their own problems when it came to nailing one of the last pieces of the EP puzzle, as a series of photos on the Littles’ Facebook page Parsons titled The Tambo Chronicles demonstrate. “We’d already finished the EP. And we went to [Rudy’s] parents’ house, and had a few beers and kind of [worked out] some percussion and backing vocals. And our drummer Will really struggled with the tambourine. And then Rudy had a go, and then I had fucking no rhythm at all when I had a go. Will got it in the end.”
Will Batrouney’s tambourine skills have no bearing on his general aptitude – he’s a brilliant drummer, and imbues the Littles’ tracks with incredible energy and flair. “I agree,” Parsons says with that hint of a smile you can detect behind everything he says. “I don’t really know anything about drums but I had a fair amount of an inkling that he was quite a talent. But he’s into hardcore music – I mean, he likes all music, he’s into absolutely everything, but he really does like [bands] like Parkway Drive and Amity Affliction.” Metal drummers are certainly among the most technically talented stickmen. “Just recently we played in Ballarat and this guy came up to [Batrouney] after the gig and he said, ‘I don’t normally like your kind of music, I don’t normally like rock‘n’roll but for some reason I really liked you guys.’ Will said it was because he was throwing in a few extra kicks here and there. He’s a pretty kick-heavy drummer which is great, and I suppose he’s added something [special] which wouldn’t have been there. He’s great, he’s a freak.”
The songwriting process sounds democratic, with input evenly attributed between all band members. Parsons usually begins with guitar chords and things unfurl from there. “I just kind of write something and then take it to the boys, and it’ll morph into something that I never imagined and it’ll be brilliant and good and we’ll all be happy and we’ll play. Or sometimes it’ll all be there; it chops and changes.” He laments that he isn’t as prolific as he used to be, but suggests “maybe it’s because I’m getting better, I hope?” It does seem that way, with their tracks receiving increasing attention, most notably from Dom Alessio and Caz Tran on the band’s triple j Unearthed page. The Littles will shortly be in the league of their forefathers The Vasco Era, so get on to this EP launch before they start touring in places further away than Ballarat.
BY ZOË RADAS
