Whether or not it'll get the recognition it deserves over here is debatable of course, but without a doubt the most affecting and consistently impressive debut this writer has heard this year is Australian singer/ songwriter PERRY KEYES' "Meter": an old-fashioned double album full of apparently devalued currencies such as passion, exhilaration and guts, not to mention the kind of brilliant widescreen tunes Bruce Springsteen would love.
Despite a spell with semi-legendary local band The Stolen Holdens during the 1990s, "Meter" is actually Perry's debut album, and he still works two long shifts a week as a taxi driver in Sydney. In more recent times, though, he's hooked up with dynamite backing group Give My Love To Rose, and they back him with impressive reserves of power and invention throughout the course of "Meter"s knifepoint ride through the city's ripped backside.
Keyes' tough and tender vocals and no-holes-barred songs suggest a character who's been knocked about by fate's tattooed fists in the past, but in conversation down the blower from his native city, the man himself is open, chatty and thoroughly engaging and without question an all-round good bloke.
Perry, it's great to talk with you. Tell us a little more about your background first of all: was music always something that mattered to you even in your early years?
"Yeah, very much," replies Perry. "I played guitar early on and got into writing songs at about 14 or 15, off and on at least. The trouble was where I come from - the inner city of Sydney and specifically the areas Redfern and Waterloo - it was difficult to find many serious musicians, y'know."
"I mean, I come from an area that's all housing commission....is that what you'd call it in England?"
Well, we'd call it council housing, but it's basically the same thing, I imagine...
"Yeah, that's the thing, government housing. Pretty much all my life that's what I've been used to and certainly in Redfern being in a band and playing music came way down the totem pole beneath football, fighting and so on. It's true to say that I was something of a late developer in that sense, musically."
I can imagine, though did you have a musical history prior to the infamous Stolen Holdens? Did you cut your teeth in either Punk bands or do the folk singer/ songwriter thing at all?
"No, I never did the folk thing at all, I was always a rocker," Perry chuckles.
"It was always things like The Clash for me, British punk, and lots of great new wave stuff...Squeeze and of course Elvis Costello. I never really played in punk bands, I missed out on the experience of actually playing in a real punk band, but the things that came from all that influenced me a lot. "Sandinista" by The Clash I still totally love..."
Yeah! Me too, even though it's all over the place, I always though that record was years ahead of it's time. But come on - I can't wait any longer - tell me about The Stolen Holdens. Did you ever actually make a record with those guys?
"(Laughs) No, no, it was all about being in my early 20s and playing all over Sydney, really. D'you know what a Holden is, by the way?"
Ain't got a clue, mate.
"Ha ha, a Holden's a car...kind've an Australian version of a Studebaker."
Right, glad you cleared that one up!
"Yeah, well anyway, that band was all about lots of gigs, but no records, building up a local following in Sydney, that sort of thing. It found a niche of sorts in the city, but none of us really had the ambition to take it further at the time really."
"It's really funny, though," he says, "because it's taken on a sort of mythical history of its' all since then. I mean, I now get people coming up to me saying they saw me play such-and-such a gig and it was fantastic," he laughs.
Yeah, that's like over here, the amount of people who tell you they saw The Sex Pistols play their legendary gig at Manchester's Lesser Free Trade Hall. The reality is that there were about 30 people (including Morrissey and most of Joy Division) in the audience, but since then, about 20,000 other people declare they were there. Honest, Guv!
"Right, yeah," Perry laughs heartily. "I had one like that, someone came up to me and said they'd seen me support The Ramones in Wollongong and that definitely never happened, but the guy was so excited telling me about having been at this show that I didn't have the heart to smash his dream, y'know?"
OK, well I assume that these formative years gigging around Sydney much have left you with a wealth of material. Did you have the songs forming "Meter" for some time prior to the record coming together?
"No, not really," says Perry, surprising me somewhat.
"They were mostly written in the 6-9 months prior to the record being made. I had a couple of things that I dug up, yeah, but very little. Most of the songs were written within six months of being recorded and a few even came together DURING the recording period."
Cool. But how easy was it actually making "Meter". Your band play really intuitively and support you to pretty much perfection throughout, sounding like they're living the songs with you. Surely the recording itself can't have been that smooth?
"Well, it was really straightforward, that's the truth," says Perry disarmingly.
"(Producer) Grant Shanahan had actually never recorded a band before and I don't think he expected it to sound half as good as it did either. But most of it's very live...you can even hear me sippin' beers as I sing (laughs). We didn't have any expectations at all, but we had fantastic fun getting it all down, it was really creative alogether."
Talking of which, had (record label) Laughing Outlaw come into the picture at this stage?
"No, it was actually all done before then," says Perry, knocking me out a second time.
"See, we recorded with Grant Shanahan (The Honeys, The Catherine Wheel) like I said, and he's got this studio up on a mountain. We were really lucky because he happens to know Stuart (Coupe - Laughing Outlaw mainman) and Grant played it to him, more or less on the off chance, and Stuart really liked it. He called me and said he'd like to put it out....it really was that out of the blue."
Wow. Stuart's a man with great taste for sure. Meanwhile, I notice that one-man musical demi-god Michael Carpenter (Producer, secret Australian power pop weapon, master session man around town) also played keyboards and mixed the album. I'm a big fan, but what did Michael bring to the table for you?
"Yeah, well we recorded about 5-6 songs with Michael playing as well and he's a great guy," enthuses Perry.
"The thing is, we have a lot of the same references and he has a great pop sensibility, so he knew exactly what I wanted. You can say to Michael "I want this to sound like something from "Darkness On The Edge Of Town" or whatever you like and he's on the ball right away. Plus, he never sits still, he's always got ideas and knows just how to achieve things for you. He's fantastic."
Before we get onto individual songs and so on, I have to ask this one: how many of "Meter"s songs were directly influenced by your job driving cabs around Sydney. Many of them seem to draw upon your experiences in this area?
"There's actually not many," he says, once again selling me something of a dummy.
"I do two nights a week driving these days," he continues. "I think maybe the cab driver angle is something the record company have pushed a bit," he says chuckling quietly.
"I mean, in any case, every second musician in Sydney is a cab driver, or an actor, or just outta jail..."
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Or a journalist...
"...or a journalist," he laughs.
"But as to the record, well the song "Discount Bottle Shop" was directly influenced by me being in the cab, because I'd stopped and parked right under a sign with the words 'Discount Bottle Shop' on it, and that gave me an idea. But really, being in a cab on long shifts, not making any money...it isn't exactly conducive to writing songs. It's more frustrating than anything, not very creative."
There are times your songs sound at least semi-autobiographical, but there are a number of great 'character' songs like "Wide Streets" and "When Things Wear Out" on the album. Do you tend to have characters in mind to draw upon when you write?
"Yeah, that's certainly true, I love creating characters and putting them in particular situations," Perry replies.
"I mean, yeah, some of it's autobiographical, too, and other stuff I've remembered from movies and suchlike. It's true that it helps to be able to connect with your characters and have experienced some of the things that are happening to them. I love narratives, yeah."
It's also true that your natural Sydney environment - and the less-salubrious districts especially - usually inform your very best songs. In my review, I compared your writing to the likes of Springsteen, Jesse Malin and John Doe: guys who have always plugged brilliantly into the (often mean)streets of their hometowns. How do such comparisons sit with you?
"Oh, I think it's incredible to get compared to guys like those," says Perry, in a voice containing traces of awe.
"I've had a couple of Johnny Cougar comparisons, and I'm not so sure about that one," he continues, "but really....to be compared to Springsteen, Gee...what a thing!"
Perry is of course being far too modest here, as "Meter" has all the hallmarks of a classic. And, in some cases, his songs bite deep into the darkness of many peoples' everyday existences. Take "Some Aches", for example. This chilling, melancholic tale of drug dependancy and youth gone to waste is almost overwhelming, but is it based on a real story and a specific person?
"It's one of those yes and no answers," Perry sighs, taking his time to respond.
"I mean, where I live heroin's a big deal. There's no denying it. She's a real person, yeah, the girl in the song, though I dunno about the guy singing the song. I mean, I come from the part of Australia they don't whack onto postcards, y'know? Redfern's a long way from the Bondi Beach images people have, believe me."
I have not problem believing it. Indeed, references to drug abuse also pepper songs like "Wide Streets" and "Service City", while abusive relationships and peoples' inabilites to sustain them come to a devastating head on tunes like "When Things Wear Out" and "Sandra's On Her Way". Arguably my favourite song of all on "Meter", though, is the closing "Matraville Trees". It's one hell of a song, set partially in a cemetary, and it touches on another awkward subject: homelessness.
"Yeah, well again that one DOES come at least partly from driving a cab around Sydney," says Perry quietly.
"Driving around like that, it's difficult NOT to notice the number of homeless people around Sydney. There are a lot of people in that situation, no matter what anyone wants to say about it. "Matraville Trees" was written deliberately as the last song on the album and it's very much the idea of people trying to have relationships in the face of adversity and in the face of stuff that's trying to make it impossible to sustain those relationships. It's a song about when life falls about and trying to remember a time when maybe your life was a little better."
Indeed. But then "Matraville Trees" is one of many fantastic, resonant songs making up this lengthy 18-track album. These days, releasing such a sprawling record as a debut album is surely courageous, to say the least. All credit to both Perry and Laughing Outlaw for putting it out without compromise. Hell, does Perry even think of music as a career as a result of having the record out at last?
"Oh God, no mate, I don't ever think of it in those terms," says Perry categorically.
"I feel lucky to be able to do it to this extent. I mean if it comes about that I don't have to drive taxis in the future, then great. I really don't have expectations... I really do take it one day at a time. Laughing Outlaw have told me I can make another one, that's good enough for me."
Talking of such vaguely materialistic things, is the rumour you don't have a bank account actually true in such a computerised, non-confidential world? Surely not?
"Well, I gotta bank account now," says Perry, hooting with laughter.
"I didn't have one, that's true, but I got paid $1500 for one show and the guy gave us a cheque, so I had to open an account just to pay it in, y'know. Oh shit, this makes me sound like a fuckin' hillbilly, doesn't it?" he says before we both fall around in gales of laughter.
"It's Laughing Outlaw's attempt to turn me into Woody Guthrie!"
Yeah! That's the way to do it. Ramblin' Perry Keyes! That would look cool on a poster. Or a record sleeve, come to that. Hey, talking of which: is that the back cover of first Clash album featuring on the sleeve of "Meter" along with the beer and fried chicken?
"Yeah, yeah it is! Congratulations Tim, you're the first person to have brought that up! I thought that was obvious, but it's not something that seems to have stood out," he says, a little surprised.
"The idea was to present a picture of a lonely guy's flat...the only thing is it's actually my flat," he laughs.
"There again, there's always an upside, " he finishes, typically optimistic.
"I mean, maybe now you can send some nice, sensitive girls my way to look after me! Wouldn't that be great, huh?"
Indeed it would Perry. And if "Meter" keeps on ticking the way it should, then they certainly won't be the only people beating a path to the door of this magnificent singer/ songwriter. Hitch a ride while there's still room in the back.
("Meter" is out now on Laughing Outlaw.)
(www.perrykeyes.com )
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