OUR CHAT WITH ANNIE HAMILTON

 

Photo development courtesy of Crown Art & Design

Singer/Songwriter/Visual Artist/Fashion Designer/Baddie Annie Hamilton has been described by her friends Lily and Grace (a.k.a. CLEWS) as “the coolest woman in rock and roll”, and as someone who “approaches everything with lightness and joy and inspiration—it’s so infectious”. I’ll be honest with you—as I was on the train to meet her in Surry Hills, I was absolutely crapping myself. I actually had to fork out $11 for a new can of deodorant from a boutique supermarket to hide the fact I’d been nervously sweating through my shirt (first and last time I’m spending that much on deodorant!). Alas—I was met by a stylish angel with a giant smile on her face, who immediately offered me a coffee—and all my nerves disappeared. We discussed her new album Stop and Smell the Lightning releasing 1st of November, her creative processes, the music industry—and we had a damn good time doing it.

EMMA: Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today, Annie. I've got some quick fire questions to get us started. Do you have any pets?

ANNIE: No. 

Would you like one?

Yes. I've decided that I wanna be a cat lady. But I live on my own and I travel all the time, so I think it would be hard for me to have a pet.

What's your favourite hobby?

Uh, knitting right now. It changes every week.

Have you seen Grease 2?

No.

Would you still love me if I were a worm?

Yes! Yes.

Likewise.

In fact, when you asked if I had any pets, I had a worm farm at my old house. I [also] had pet chickens. And it was a terrace in the middle of the city, but we had a little courtyard and I had three pet chickens and a worm farm. And the worms—I named them Wormadette as a collective. They're a collective worm. And they are my pets. So I had Wormadette.

You're a farmer! I didn't know.

I'm a farmer at heart.

 
 

Cool. So you've got your album Stop and Smell The Lightning coming out November 1st, and you're starting the tour the same day. What does your average day look like in the lead up?

At the moment it's a bit all over the place. Like yesterday I had a long shoot for all the press shots, which was really fun 'cause it was just like playing dress ups. But mostly I'm just deep in laptop land. There's so much work that goes into [a release]. Because I'm doing it independently and I'm self-managed, there is so much admin and emails. Also, I'm editing the visualisers and I'm doing all the graphic design as well. I wish I could say that I'm just playing my guitar and immersing myself in the lightning, but instead I'm literally like sitting on my laptop 20 plus hours a day.

You're a hard worker.

Well, I love doing it and I love doing it all myself, but I am realising I'm not really coping with it. It's a lot of work, but it's really rewarding.


Well, if you can think all the way back to 2022 when releasing your first album, the future is here but it feels kinda like the past, how did your feelings from that time compare to what you're feeling now as you're getting ready to release the second album?

That's something I've really been reflecting on lately. And it's so nice because I've realised that when I released the future is here but it feels kinda like the past, I overworked it and I was overthinking everything and I really cared about what everyone else thought. [Which] meant I just had this burnout spiral afterwards where I crashed. Hopefully that doesn't happen with this album, but I don't feel like it's gonna happen because I’m in a totally different head space where I love it so much. I've already got so much out of [just] making it that I don't actually care what happens from this point. 


I feel energised and excited to make more music and keep writing and keep recording and to tour. Obviously I would love to say I don't care anymore what anyone else thinks, [but] everyone is human and I do sometimes care, but overall I feel like I have really grown out of the need for everyone else's validation.



Is there a song on the record you're most proud of?

All of them. I mean, there's five songs that I produced myself, and so I'm proud of those because I am self-taught with production. I’ve always felt a bit of imposter syndrome and a bit of like, Oh, I'm not a real producer, I can produce a bit, but I'm not a real producer. And with these songs, the whole time I was making them, I was like, Oh, I'll get a real producer in to help me finish them. And then I just got to a point where I was like, You know what? I love them. They're done. I don't actually need to bring anyone else in.

And you're a producer.

And I'm a producer. Sure—I'm a self-taught producer and I still have a lot to learn, but I'm still a producer.

You can learn on the job.

Exactly. And it means: cool, let's go learn more, instead of  the feeling of: I can't do this, I'm a fraud.


Yeah, totally. And I know you also worked with Jake Webb, a producer and DJ, on the other songs. How did his being on the record influence its sound?

So much. First of all, Jake is Methyl Ethyl, and I've been a huge fan of his music for years, and we actually worked together on a few songs for my last album, and I covered him for Like a Version. We co-produced [those songs] remotely during lockdown, because he lives in Perth and the border was closed. I remember thinking, If we work this well remotely, imagine what we could do in a room together. When I started writing this album, I knew I wanted it to be more electronic and dancey. And I really wanted to push the production into the weirder soundscapes that I know I don't have. So I flew over to Perth and we got in the studio and just started working together and it was so fun and we really clicked. We ended up doing seven songs together. And he brought so much to the album, so much of the sonic world and so many of the ideas that I just wouldn't have thought of myself. We just had so much fun making it, and I think you can feel that energy in those songs.

Are you able to describe the album and its identity?

Ooh, I love this question. I would describe it as a zigzag with these big high-highs that are these kind of massive hyper-energised explosions of lightning. Throughout the two years that I've made the album, it revealed itself to me, and it always felt like a zigzag. And so it's got these huge up moments, then these very fragile, delicate—I don't necessarily think of them as lows, I don't think they're sad, but [these moments] are almost like breathing room. So there's the big ups and then there's the pause where you can take a breath and reflect and just sit in it. 

Yeah, I mean, it's such a dynamic album and you kinda need that when you're gonna sit and listen to a piece of work.

My actual first intention with the album was to make a ‘dance away the sadness record. I felt like I'd pigeonholed myself into this indie rock genre of sad girl guitar songs—which I love, [but] there's a time and a place for. I got to a point where I was like, okay, I love the sad girl guitar songs, but I also love to dance on the table until 5:00 am at the house party listening to eighties disco, so where does that fit into my life? So when I started making the album, my intention was to make a real big dance, electronic record to almost like, throw off the shackles that I'd put around myself of indie rock. And then again, as I was making it I was like—you can't always be up. You have to have the moments to pause so that you can appreciate the heights. You need to have balance and you need to have moments where you retreat and you pause and you exhale. And I think that's a good life lesson.

That's such  a good reflection as well, it’s something we all should learn at some point. Did you find yourself inspired or influenced by any people or places in the making of the album?

I drew inspiration from everyone and everything because I made it over the last two years and recorded it sporadically. I think it would've been a very different album if I had written the whole thing and then gone into the studio for a month and gone bang… [here’s a] record! But because I was in Perth and I was writing and going back and forth with touring I'd just stay on for an extra week, get in the studio for a few days, record a bit, and then come back home. And then I'd go back to Perth a couple months later and do more. So it was this real, again, zigzag—a real back and forth. Through that time I met so many people, I travelled to many places, I went on all these tours. I had time alone, I had time with people. I had this feeling that I was just floating wherever the wind took me. All of those experiences funnelled themselves into the music—that's why there's so much variety in the sounds and the themes, because it's not just one mood. I didn't want any song to sound the same, and I wanted it to be this huge wide range of influences that have been distilled into this 12 track time capsule.

If I think of myself two years ago, I was so different—you'd probably see your own evolution in the album as well. 

This album revealed things to [me] that [I didn’t] know. There's things in the lyrics that I still find really mysterious. I write a lot of songs so there's a lot that didn't make it onto the album over the last two years. And I've realised that the songs where I know exactly what they mean and what I'm trying to say when writing—they're kind of boring, and often they don't make the cut. And the ones that do are the ones that are still a mystery to me even though I wrote them. I think they're the best songs 'cause it’s almost like my subconscious is just spitting something out. And then sometimes I listen back to songs I wrote years ago and I'm like, Oh, I think I know what that's about now haha. But at the time I didn't.

In the last few years I've changed so much and I've evolved and learned so much. I look back at the Annie from two years ago who wrote some of these songs and I just wanna give her a hug. It's a really nice time capsule or documentation of my evolution.

It's so wholesome! Could you share an experience or two that helped write or inspire some of the songs?

A good one is ‘slut era’. I wrote it in a fit—in a frenzy. I was on a plane to Texas and it was International Women's Day. I'd been looking at everyone's International Women's Day posts on Instagram and, there was also a festival that had been announced where there was a very problematic, male artist that was announced on the lineup and billed as the ‘bad boy’ of the music industry. We have such a cultural problem in Australia with blokey, bad boy toxic masculinity. I was also thinking about the fact that I was flying into Texas where abortion is illegal and reproductive rights are being stripped away and it's terrifying. Anyway, I got on the flight and I just opened my laptop and started making a demo—I love writing music and demoing on flights—and then this song just poured out and I wrote the lyrics in rapid fire—the whole song. At first I was like, this is a joke I'll never release this, no one else will ever hear this. Like when I came up with the chorus, ‘gotta be shareable, vulnerable, fuckable, relatable, dinner on a plate-able, burn her at the stake’, and I wrote the whole song, recorded the vocals on my phone in the plane toilet, and had the whole demo produced before the flight touched down. But then I didn't show anyone for six months [until] I showed Jake. I was just like, ‘Ha, look at this random thing that I made,’ and he was like, ‘That's sick.  Let's record it.’ Recording was so fun because all the percussive sounds—you can't really tell because they’re really distorted—[but it’s] me smashing shit with a hammer.  Jake locked me in the studio with a vacuum cleaner, a metal bucket, a chain, a hammer, an electric meat carver, all these random tools, and I just hit stuff.

How did you come up with that idea?

I was like, I need to smash something with a hammer, it just makes sense. And so then we just found all the tools that we could find, and I just hit things for an hour and turned the vacuum cleaner on and off and screamed. That was so cathartic to me.

Of course. I bet you felt good after that.

Yeah, I've had so many women message me about [the song]. It's really rewarding to realise it’s connected with people.

I actually wrote a question about that song because I love the lyrics ‘slut era, crush is here, take my money, hold my beer.’ Do you have any tips for confidence when approaching a crush? Or in general?

Oh yeah. I get crushes on everyone in the entire world, so I feel like I always have like seven or eight crushes on the go. I'm also very much like, Fuck it. Put yourself out there, tell them how you feel,  'cause I'd rather get rejected and then move on to my next crush than waste my time obsessing over someone who's not good enough. So yeah, I would say my tip for confidence is to just think, If they don't like me, I am not interested in them. If someone's not interested in you, it's not gonna work, and then you're just wasting your energy. So if you are interested in someone, just be yourself, and if they're interested in you: great. And if they're not, then just remember that’s their loss.

Totally. You've also got your joint tour with CLEWS coming up, and you're travelling through the UK. What's the tour dynamic with the sisters like?

Oh my god, I feel like I'm just the third CLEW.



You should join the band.

I know, I am trying. We're all such close friends and it feels like being just one happy family on tour—it's so fun. We're treating it as a holiday where we get to play music with our friends. Doing a co-headline tour makes sense financially because touring is so expensive, especially at the moment—it means that we can share all the expenses. So logistically and financially it's a big plus, but it also means we can do fun things on our days off. 

That's amazing. And I'm sure your music works so well together as well.

Yeah! With the UK show I'm playing solo and they're playing as a duo. It's an intimate, stripped back show and we've picked venues that are designed for that, like an old church in London.

Oh, that's amazing. And what can the audience expect at an Annie Hamilton show? Do you crack jokes?

I try! I don't know if they land. The upcoming Australian shows, I'm doing with my full band and they’re gonna be the first time I've played a bunch of these songs, which is terrifying but exciting. I would like to think that the audience can expect to feel like one big happy family of best friends. I wanna bring that ‘dance away the sadness’ energy to the shows, with more electronic dancey elements. I want it to be fun and for everyone to just feel like they can let loose and not give a fuck what anyone thinks. I'm also thinking about making a costume theme! My album's out at midnight on Halloween, of course, very much planned, and my Sydney show is Friday the 13th of December, so I think I need to make it themed.

And, of course you're not just a touring musician, you're also a visual artist and a fashion designer. In what ways do all of these skills blend together and how on earth do you have time for it all?

They blend together because it's the same creative energy that's coming out of me, I just change the outlet. If I pick up a pen or a guitar or a paintbrush or knitting needles, it's the same thing that's coming out. And whenever I get stuck or feel a creative block,  I just start doing something else creative. I was thinking about this yesterday because of the shoot, I woke up really early [that morning] and couldn't get back to sleep, and I had this idea of making a chainmail top. So I woke up and made a coffee and I made a chainmail top. I ended up finishing it and wearing it for the shoot.  But, what I was thinking about when I was doing it was the process of making something when you are not second guessing yourself, because you don't have time and there's no need to be like, Oh, is this cool? What should I do next? I was just like, This looks cool. Go, go, go. You know, that's the flow state of when I make good shit, whether it's writing a song or drawing or sewing. It's good to have things like craft or that chainmail top to remind me that if I'm writing a song and I get stuck, it's usually because I'm thinking about the end goal, and about Will I release this? Will people like it? Will it get played on the radio? Will it go down well at my live shows? And as soon as you start thinking about the end result, it kills the idea. Like if you're writing a song, it doesn't matter if no one ever hears it, it doesn't matter if it sucks, because the process of doing it feels good, and you are always learning. 

True. And are you gonna do some more chainmail?

Well, yeah, I have to now!

And this is the last one I have, and it's one that I have to ask. As a woman in music, what are some changes you'd like to see in the Australian music industry?

As a white woman I'm very privileged but I still think about this so much. I wish I didn't have to think about it, but unfortunately [the industry] is still extremely male dominated and there's still a huge gap in representation of women of colour and gender non-conforming people. ‘slut era’ is a dig at the music industry because it’s referring to how in Australia we still glorify the blokey dudes who get so much attention. Whereas, for female artists there's all these pressures where you have to basically be a model, be a content creator, be interesting and constantly change your look. There's a double standard and [there’s] more expectations placed on women to be insanely amazing at everything. The music industry is changing a lot and there's a lot of people doing the right things, but at the end of the day, it’s also a reflection of our wider society. We are living in a patriarchal society where men's work is valued higher than women's work. There's still a gender pay gap and I think that’s also because men are getting the opportunities that allow them to grow into a headline size act, whereas so many female and non-binary artists quit before they can get to that point in their career because it's so, so hard. There are more obstacles and there are glass ceilings. 


There are solid things that the music industry can do to help that change move faster. Things like quotas on music festival lineups or radio. The argument against quotas is that [selection] should be on merit and it should be on the best song. But that doesn't really apply in music, 'cause music is subjective—how do you say what's the best song? If a man's picking it, it's probably gonna be a male song. So I guess if the question is, what change do I wanna see? I would like to see more quotas on festival lineups and radio stations. Like if there are two acts that are kind of equal, we are gonna pick the female or the non-binary act. And that extends into women of colour and other marginalised groups because it is still so male dominated and white male dominated.

Of course. Well that's something practical.

Yeah. We also need more investment into training programs, production courses, and mentorship for female crew members. So often you play a festival and there'll be 40 crew members and not a single woman. Last year I played Falls Festival with Peach PRC, as her guitarist, and there was a moment backstage where I looked around and almost every single crew member and artist manager was male—there was one woman in the crew. It's not reflective. You know, society is like 50-50, and I think our industry should reflect that. So we need to be giving opportunities from the ground up—teaching women the skills and mentoring them to not quit. I talk to so many female artists who quit by the age of 25 because it's so hard. And I'm like, No, no, no, you need to stay


There are people doing really amazing things in this space and they need support, but I'm optimistic. I'm very much aware of the fact that I'm still emerging and my tour is only really small rooms and little shows, I'm not headlining festivals, but if I can have two support acts, then I will give those places to female or non-binary acts.  I have a platform, and even if it's only small, I wanna use my platform to help lift others up because the rising tide lifts all ships. And I don't think women are ever, or should ever, be in competition. It's not like there's limited space and you need to get yourself ahead. There's room for everyone and it should be a community where everyone's lifting each other and that's what I'm trying to foster.

 

you can listen to Annie Hamilton’s album Stop and Smell the Lightning from the 1st of November.

 
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