an interview with Outright’s singer Jelena Goluza

In the lead-up to the hardcore band’s new release, Outright’s singer Jelena Goluza talks music, inspiration, and elections

 

A melodious ferocity runs through the new album by metallic hardcore band Outright. Keep You Warm will be released July 15th through the Australian band’s own label, Rage and Reason Records. I took this release as an opportunity to hear directly from the band’s vocalist, Jelena Goluza.

 

Damon: Jelena, thank you for your time! I read that the band formed around 2010. Since then, the band has released a couple of EPs and is about to release its second LP. You have also toured with bands like Propagandhi, Refused, and Rise Against. How has life since 2010 shaped you? How do you think experiences have affected the band and the music?

 

Jelena Goluza: I think playing in this band has provided a lot of catharsis over the years. Having a voice and the energetic output has enabled us to express a lot of what we’ve been through or feel. While this still comes through in our new music, there’s also more reflection and introspection that comes with having the space to push beyond the urgency to focus on other things. 

 

Musically, and with many line-up changes over the years, we’ve evolved to play a broader range of heavy punk that leans both to metal and melody at times, faster in some songs and much slower in others. It’s nice to stretch our legs. In the past 12 years, we’ve had the opportunity to play anything from small art spaces to enormous arena shows, and we’ve learned to fill each space differently and take our own special memories from them.

 

D: How has the experience and work of being in a band changed?

 

JG: As a band member and our label owner, I’ve definitely experienced the impact of increasing digitisation, and it hurts. Normally, record sales would cover all the costs for production so we can keep doing what we do, but online streaming has taken all that away. There’s also the added burden of having to invest in more video clips just to have that online presence. I mean, it’s fantastic to be creative in more ways and to work with brilliant filmmakers to do that, but the financial pressure is hard to manage.

 

We’ve noticed time management and touring gets harder as we get older and carry other responsibilities in life, but we wouldn’t take it on if it wasn’t fun and meaningful for us and important to back up what we do in the studio.

 

D: The album is remarkably focused—the songwriting and performances keep up a sense of passion and enthusiasm. And I like how the aggression is balanced by guitar melodies. For example, “Truth Teller” has a nice mix of urgency and drama, and I really liked the parts that come at 1:07 on “Tied Through Time” and 2 minutes into “Tyrants Vultures.” Please describe the song-writing process. How do you and the band write songs? What comes first?

 

JG: Thanks for being so kind. It’s nice when other people pick up the same bits we love in those songs. The riffs come first. Always. Someone will come with an idea, we workshop it together, and then when it finds some form, I’ll write lyrics to match the mood and we go from there, adding layered guitars and backups. I always love seeing what random changes get made at the last minute in the studio, too, just to lift the track some more. We compile a library of ideas, which is really useful for those times when we can resurrect a scrapped idea that ends up being perfect for something else. It was interesting adapting to a virtual song-writing process while our city was in lockdown for many months due to COVID, but I’m proud of how we made it through.

 

D: What non-musical works or forms of art and media influence you and the music?

 

JG: Aboriginal artists like @coffinbirth teach us a lot about the First Nations experience and inspire our solidarity and action. Our song “Tied Through Time” is informed by reflections of the Bringing Them Home report on its 20th anniversary. Forced removals in modern child protection policies are known to cause what is now considered a second stolen generation event among First Nations peoples in Australia, yet Aboriginal people remain the longest-surviving civilisation in the world and should be celebrated.

 

The song “Silent Spring” is inspired by Rachel Carson's book of the same name published in 1962. It taught us about the environmental impact of pesticides, and we’ve since learned the risk and tragedy when we don’t pay attention to science, even for our own survival.

 

Our video for “The Hammer” takes the premise from Maleus Maleficarum and flips it with the influence of various films and plays based on the history of witch hunts.

 

More generally, we’re influenced by intersectional progressive literature and commentators, artists like Weiwei and Haring and political documentaries and podcasts.

 

D: What makes you feel good?

 

JG: Personally, exercise and nature always makes me feel good. I think what makes the band feel good is knowing we’ve tried our best and connected with others who relate to what we do. Everything always comes back to community-building, creativity, and catharsis.

 

D: In the US, where I am, news of Australia’s most recent election was largely crowded out by domestic stories and the war in Ukraine. What are your thoughts on Australia’s election?

 

JG: I think our recent federal election was a clear indication that our national community is rising up and speaking for people and the environment. We’ve seen more seats move away from the conservative party to greens and independents than ever before. People have witnessed the crushing impact and disappointment of conservative governments and become more engaged to set things right. I think there was also a strong backlash against the former government for how poorly it handled sexual assault in Parliament and industry, delayed vaccine roll outs, homophobic and transphobic policies, flood and bushfire prevention and relief, constitutional recognition for First Nations people, and corruption. Women spoke out with their votes louder than ever. Young people spoke out with their votes to make a difference when the older generations never acted on their behalf. It’s been the change we’ve been waiting so long for, and we’re invigorated to hold the new government to account to carry that change through.

 

D: What do you think of compulsory voting and Australia’s version of it?

 

JG: I think there are arguments for and against compulsory voting, but I’m satisfied with my experience of it in Australia. I feel it is the best opportunity to engage and capture the views of a wide population and get as close as possible to the level of representation required to comprise a democracy. Even though we have to deal with preferences, we can still vote to ensure our preferences also lean in the direction we want leadership in. This increases legitimacy and responsiveness more than other electoral systems can. Even though true democracy relies on higher levels of education, compulsory voting is at least a way to engage and inform more people about how policy and power affects them and equalises them in the weight of each vote. Some people think it forces people to vote, but there is nothing stopping someone from lodging a blank paper if they choose to disengage. That said, voting policies aren’t the be-all and end-all. Our entire political system needs to back that up, and its players need to constantly be held to account with transparency and integrity.

about the Rolling Stone article "Keith Urban's Hard Road"

Keith Urban achieved fame Down Under before relocating to Nashville, USA and hitting it big. Married to famous actress and fellow Aussie Nicole Kidman, he's a huge commercial country-rock success whose own celebrity status grew even larger recently through his casting on hit TV show "American Idol."

The famous musician is the subject of this short Rolling Stone profile with the foreshadowing subtitle, "His rise to fame, paved by talent, looks and drive, has led the country megastar to the darkest of places."

He is a legitimate songwriter and musician, but baby pacifiers have more edge than Keith Urban. The man seems charmed. So it's somewhat compelling to read about him that, "In truth, the hard times were harder than almost anyone except his wife knows, and more desperate, and more frightening, up to the point of should-I-live-or-should-I-die, with him favoring the latter. 'No, man,' he says later on, 'I didn't just walk into this gig.' And then he proceeds to open up a little bit about some of the stuff that happened."

When he opens up, we learn that Urban's darkest places are filled with piles of cocaine. From the profile:

He's going back in time, to 1998, seven years since he released his four hit records in Australia, five years since that girl called him a novelty, another long year away from success. He was at a house out in Franklin, about 20 miles south of Nashville, staring at a big pile of coke, about to embark on another one of his binges, which is how he used to roll–-a few days or weeks off, then blammo.

"I had plenty of stuff," he says. "I didn't seem able to stop. There was no stopping this time. I'd go to sleep, wake up a couple of hours later, go at it again, drinking to take the edge off. I remember thinking, 'I'm probably not going to make it until tomorrow.' And then I thought, 'Fuck it. I really don't care. It'll be a relief to not have to. I'll take an Ambien and at some point I'll pass.' I was taking everything. I remember thinking, 'Oh, good, this is the end of it, yahoo.' I was quite happy about it." He leans back in his chair, smiles and shrugs. "Well, I woke up the next day at lunchtime, in my bed, sweating, going, 'Fuck! Guess I'm not going to get to go this way.' I thought the choice to quit would be taken from me, which would be easier than me trying to do it on my own. There was coke left, so I went at it again."

And that is pretty much it. There is a discrepancy between this shoddy profile's melodramatic setup and this payoff.

How can you foreshadow "the darkest of places" and then omit the details that would really comprise a tragedy, like, how much money was he blowing every day? was his health failing somehow? what symptoms led him to think he was going to die? who was around him? was he alienated? did he have any troubles with the law? what were his days like? is there something particularly seedy about being "at a house out in Franklin, about 20 miles south of Nashville"?

Those kinds of details are missing. Instead we hear his claims that he "had plenty of stuff," didn't care, and was even "quite happy about it." (Buddy, if you have coke left in the morning, maybe you have more self-control than you think.)

Addiction is serious and I do not doubt that he suffered from it. Urban apparently had a coke problem, but that is as far this story goes.

Urban and the author similarly skip past dark places in the subject's childhood. About his father, Urban says:

"My recollection is that he was a physical disciplinarian. Ten years ago, I would have said, 'He never did anything I didn't deserve.' Now I realize it's not about deserving it." He leans forward, says, "I don't recall him ever telling me he loved me as a kid. I'd do a gig I thought was fantastic and the only thing he'd say is, 'When you speak onstage, you've got to slow down.' He never commented on anything else. And the way he disciplined me, he seemed to have forgotten about it as he got older. I don't think he was in denial, he genuinely had no recollection. 'Hitting you? I never did that!'" This comes as a bit of a shock, mainly because Urban has never publicly mentioned it before ...

Is this an allusion to child abuse? Urban uses the word "disciplined," not abuse. There is nothing dark about being disciplined.

The profile promises darkness and pain, but delivers only pithy allusions.


Notes:
I had to reread the article to verify that the author was not being sarcastic. I blame both the author and Urban for the misdirection.

Joey

Probably baby kangaroos shouldn't be called "joeys." Only an "Australian" would come up with that name.