Sid O'Neill from the Vasco Era is only twenty-five. Which seems absurd considering the band who formed in the Victorian seaside town of Apollo Bay, have been highly visible for nearly a decade; releasing two major label records—Oh We Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside (2007) and Lucille (2010)—and touring the country an infinite amount of times. Maybe the impression is amplified by the way O'Neill presents as an old soul; belting out rock and blues numbers with the verve and angst of a kid but whilst somehow retaining the gravitas of an elder.

With the recent release the band's new, third record — their first as an independent entity and one cut live — the tension that comes loaded with such duality is plainly evident; the album practically hums with sozzled, searching, electric energy. And growing pains. The frontman tried to quit the band prior to it's recording, moving to Queensland and ditching music altogether. Which is maybe why the record's eventual creation and release comes stamped with just the band's own name. It's a rebirth, document of self-examination, affirmation and a focusing of intent. It's also, according to O'Neil, "maybe not high art, but I hope people like it."

--

TheVine: You told us last year that for Lucille you conjured up two specific characters to base the record on. The songs on this one seem intensely personal. What changed?

Sid O'Neil: I dunno. The first two albums were supposed to be concepts but you can't do that forever. So [on The Vasco Era] I was just trying to write one liners that I thought were good lines. And put them together into whatever sounded like a song. As opposed to a specific, strict story I guess. I think if you just try and think of one liners that are cool and little thoughts, it's going to come out more personal.

A lot of those one liners are self-analytical and self-deprecating as well. Lines like, "I've suffered from delusions of significance" ('Chemicals Run Out').

I thought of that line and tried to write a song around it, 'cause I thought it was a good one. That happens a lot. I think that's the good thing about being a bit drunk as well. 'Cause you'll come up with reversals or changes or sayings that you've heard all the time and they can apply to you. And you can start a song doing that.

Lyrically, a lot of the album seems like you're thinking about your career to this point. Things you've been through as a band.

Yeah well that's it. It hopefully doesn't sound like I'm complaining too much because I'm happier than I've been in a while. But you know, I've realised maybe trying to be a big rock star isn't feasible. Or what I want to do anyway. It's about realising that stuff.

Is that a relief?

Yeah! (laughs). It's so much better. Like when we were trying to come up with the first and second albums, I took it as a lot of pressure. And the songs sound more forced, because of that. I think this one sounds more relaxed or something.

Was that realisation forced upon you by being dropped from the label and having to do it all yourself?

Um...no. Because we didn't really work like that. We knew that we shouldn't be on a major label anymore anyway. So it wasn't like, 'Please let us stay.' It was more like, we knew before the demos or anything that it wasn't going to be on Universal again because it doesn't make any sense. They would have lost so much money on us already. And they would have been trying to get us to do a big hit single this time, and all that stuff. Which is what they have to do. So we wanted out just as much as they wanted us out (laughs). So it worked pretty good.

So that wasn't really a realisation. Although I have in the last two years realised that maybe it's not possible for me to be just a musician anymore.

You mean a full time musician?

Yeah. I mean, it is possible. But I'd have to make music that I didn't like as much. So it's not possible. I'd rather be liked a lot by a few people than liked a little bit by a lot of people.


The Vasco Era - 'Child Bearing Hips'


What was the feeling in the band throughout the Lucille period? Were you thinking then along those lines?

I think I was about 21, 22 when I wrote most of those songs. And we recorded it a year before it came out. So it was actually recorded in 2009 and written in 2008 kind of thing. So, I still thought at that time maybe that we'd do a second album and everyone would be like, 'Yeah, these guys are the band ever.' And we'd get lot's of money (laughs). Like, I still thought there was a small chance of that happening. Not that I really wanted it.

But I don't know. I talked to our first manager, Simon (Daly). And I can't really remember this but he reckons that the whole time — even when I was 19 or 22 — that if something could happen that would make our band really big, I would try and hold it back. And try and do things that would undermine it. Which I didn't really have any idea about, but it kind of makes sense now.

Why do you think you did that?

[I wasn't] confidant that I was good. You don't really want to get that big when you're not good. And that's still what I feel like now. Even though I'm 25, I feel like I'm getting a lot better at it as I go. I'm not in any rush to get famous or get big. And I don't think I ever will be, I just want to get better.

Did you think that the other guys in the band felt the same way during that period?

They're pretty good. They'd be pretty happy either way. I don't think they'd be upset if we had a song that made us really famous. I dunno. I tried to quit a year and a half ago. And they were pretty nice about it. They said, 'Well if that's what you really want to do, then good. We'll quit.' And then if not, I don't really know. They'd be wanting to make some money pretty soon, because they're 30. Ted (O'Neil -- Sid's brother) still lives at Mum's house and Mike (Fitzgerald) is 28 and still lives in his girlfriend shed (laughs). But I dunno. They've got jobs and stuff now. I can't really speak for them.

Why did you quit?

Just before Lucille came out I thought it was shit. The sound of it and the instruments and everything. I didn't think it was loud enough. Just lot's of things, where I was like, 'Naaah'. And I played it to a few of my friends and they just went, 'Oh yeah it's pretty good. Like, no one was really excited about it. So I think I took that personally. I just wanted to run away and quit. So I moved to Queensland. And started doing social work and stuff (laughs).

But I'm glad it came out, because when it did everyone gave it pretty good reviews and all that shit so it worked out pretty good. But it's just the nerves you get before it coming out. I don't have that this time. I'm alright.

Did you find yourself writing songs about that experience?

Um. I don't really know. I tried to not write about specific things. I'd think of a line to do with something about myself, or something I saw. And then just make a song about that. But I don't know specifically what the songs are about. They're all about 5 or 6 different things.

The overall sentiment that I got from it was a sense of self-analysis. Often about feeling a bit shit, but then accepting that that's OK.

Yeah I guess that's pretty true. That's how it goes usually. And some of it's supposed to be funny. But maybe it doesn't come across that way at the other end, I dunno.

Is "Why is a naturopath smoking rolled up cigarettes?" ('Avatar Blues') one of the funny lines?

(Laughs) Is that funny?

I thought it was pretty funny.

Yeah well that's supposed to be funny. And it's funny 'cause it's true -- every naturopath smokes rolled up cigarettes. But I did it so I was talking about me. Doing bad things but acting like I'm not.

What about "There's no ancient culture in our veins / So we've got to put something there"?

Well that's to do with drugs. But that's [also about] being in Australia, I reckon. Being a white Australian. I mean, there is culture [here], but I do think that most people my age haven't got a real grip on home. Like, me especially --  don't really have a real sense of home. You meet Irish people and stuff, and they're real "Irish" and they know what's going on [with their country] and why. And they're proud of that. Whereas Australians are like, 'Ehh I dunno'.

Did that make you think that's why Australians love getting fucked up on drink and drugs?

That was more to do with just me than everyone. But yeah, definitely. It's a part of not having a stable grounding. And I'm actually out of house [right now] too, I've been sleeping on people's couches for a long time. So that was physically about not being grounded.

(Continued next page)