When I was younger, I discovered most of my music from watching music television and award shows like the Grammys and Channel V (RIP). In 2002, my 12-year-old self sat on the floor to watch the ARIAs like I had in the years before, but this time around, I had no idea what an important musical milestone this would be when Rove McManus introduced Silverchair.
The won the award for Best Rock Album that night, for Diorama. It was also up for Album of the Year, but lost out to Kasey Chambers‘ Barricades and & Brickwalls (an absolute robbery only matched by Shannon Noll‘s 2003 Australian Idol loss, in my opinion). After watching them perform The Greatest View on the night, I immediately went out to buy the album, but it seems I wasn’t the only one who had suddenly developed this urge to own a copy of that song, and album. Within 2 months of their ARIA perforamance, they sold an extra 250,000 copies in Australia, sending it back into the top 10. Originally, sales where burdened by the fact that after the release of the album in March singer/guitarist Daniel Johns developed reactive arthritis and was unable to promote or tour. But thanks to this performance, they finally achieved the recognition they, and this album deserved.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6VuIJtbcqs
Starting the record with the fifth single Across the Night, I instantly realised I wasn’t listening to the same band that released Frogstomp 7 years prior. They had matured and progressed musically that was so noticeable I could even appreciate it back then as a 12 year old. Composer Van Dyke Parks, alongside Johns, arranged the orchestral components for this song so perfectly that it illustrates the ethereal and poetic lyrics of Across The Night even more so than the elements the band themselves provided. The mix of these parts coming together into such a beautiful song is part of the reason of why I love it, and this album so much. One of the reasons why Diorama is so important to me is because of how the lyrics dealt with the difficulty of depression. I was 12 and I remember sadness that I didn’t seem to see in any of the peers my age, and I found a complicated understanding when at the end of this song when Daniel Johns belts, “I don’t want to be lonely, I just want to be alone.
Many of the lyrics in the album deal with these complicated ideas of depression, escapism and dealing with expectations. This wasn’t new a new concept for Silverchair, but in Diorama they where far more complex. I think I may have driven my grade 7 classmates mental by making them listen to Luv Your Life so much. No one else seemed to understand the song, but I was continually the only one to bring a CD to class when we were allowed to listen to music, so they suffered through it. That was, of course, until the constant repetition of the track led to a class vote to ban the song. This only strengthened my love, or obsession with this song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoL5Q72HZWg
There are a few songs on the album that still held to the heavier side of Silverchair that grunge fans held so dearly, and tracks like One Way Mule and The Lever actually lead me to an appreciation of heavier music that I previously hadn’t been interested in. One Way Mule leads with a heavy guitar riffs, solid percussion and grittier vocals without jolting the flow of the album, and still showcases Daniel’s writing ability with lyrics like “Love me for my mind ‘cause I’m a dangerous heart, when I’ve got time to kill I’m coming back to you.” Damn Daniel!
Diorama will always be the first come to mind when someone asks me what my favourite album is. It helped me understand more complicated music, and encouraged me to search beyond the Top 40 radio hits I had normally stuck to. It lead me to The Beach Boys, through the use of vocal harmonies in songs like World Upon Your Shoulders; I delved into later records The Beatles from the way songs where structured into multiple parts in Across The Night; and I became interested in singers like Kate Bush who used falsetto through the vocals in Too Much of Not Enough.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTtPKYne2hM
It’s almost been 15 years since Diorama was released, and I haven’t stopped listening to it. Like any good relationship, it only gets better. I am forever getting into arguments with grunge and 90’s Silverchair fans about how Diorama is one of the greatest albums of all time, and I can guarantee I will for a long time.
Read more: Flashback Friday: Silverchair’s Frogstomp
Image: Andrzej Liguz/moreimages.net
It’s hard to explain the impact that Silverchair‘s debut album Frogstomp had on my life.
It’s equally hard to explain to most people that a garage grunge album penned by a trio of young teenagers from Newcastle, Australia, has had more impact on my life than almost any other album in existence. But bear with me as I try.
This album quite literally changed my life. I would’ve been 12, perhaps 13, when I first received it. As a kid, I’d visit my dad’s office on occasion, and this woman who worked there one day handed me a stack of CDs that she thought I’d like. Among them were The Doors, The Velvet Underground, Nirvana and of course, Frogstomp.
I chose to play Frogstomp first, and I have the most vivid memory of the whole event. Sitting at the edge of my single bed in my parent’s house, I popped the CD into my little stereo, and waited.
Then this happened:
That riff. That bass riff, followed closely by the distorted crunch of that guitar. That did something to my brain and I’ve never been the same way since.
I’d never been exposed to that kind of music before.
Every song on the album spoke to me in one way or another. From the melodic angst of Tomorrow, to the absurdly disturbing Pure Massacre, to the aggressively sad Leave Me Out and the brooding Suicidal Dream. Surely enough, it wasn’t long before I was wearing all black, learning the guitar and wholeheartedly embraced the ‘weird goth kid’ stereotype at my preppy private school.
Frogstomp isn’t a musically brilliant album in the way you might consider a Pink Floyd album genius. The riffs are simple and heavy, the lyrics bordered on ridiculous (Tomorrow still baffles me,) chords were basic enough that I learnt to play the entire album within a few months. But they were raw and powerful, they bled with teen angst and rebellion. Anger, frustration and all kinds of confused emotions seeped from the pores of each and every track – exactly what a newly teenage Lauren had been waiting for.
It’s corny, but at the time – and remember this was before social media, before I graduated from an alarmingly close-minded, religious private high school, before ‘real life’ happened – this album was my first exposure to something alternative. I suddenly discovered that being a confused, socially awkward weirdo was okay, because I wasn’t alone. And this thing called rock music was there as my personal, sonic punching bag.
My parents hated it.
I think that opening riff of Israel’s Son is still my favourite on the album. Closely followed by the similarly sadistic Undecided, that distortion blasted into my ears. “They wonder why you need someone, you get no freedom at all / they want you to drop down and conform / they make your self esteem fall,” Johns growls on the latter. It’s childish and almost laughable now, but at the time – oh boy.
The emotional Shade, with it’s non-distorted riffs and deep bass line, sang of communication. “If you’re hurt, why don’t you tell someone? Don’t feel bad, you’re not the only one. Don’t go hiding in the shade…” To this day, I wonder if the band knew how important lyrics like that were to people like me. Conversely, Suicidal Dream was dark and demented – luckily far enough away from my own life experiences that it was no more than just lyrics. “I fantasise about my death, I kill myself from holding my breath. My suicidal dream, voices telling me what to do, my suicidal dream, I’m sure you will get yours too.” It’s also an interesting look at musical censorship, really. I don’t think many acts would get away with screeching “SUICIDAL! SUICIDAL!” over and over again in today’s environment.
Posters of a once blonde, scraggly-haired Daniel Johns and co adorned my walls. I’d started reading up on the band and their influences, which in turn led me to really get into the likes of Black Sabbath, Nirvana, Mudhoney and so on. it wasn’t long before this album solely put me on the trajectory to the person I am today. Grunge and heavy alternative rock will forever be among my most beloved genres, and Silverchair will forever be one of my favourite bands. (Their first three albums, at least.)
Luckily by the time I heard Frogstomp, Silverchair’s next two albums – Freak Show and Neon Ballroom were already out. While they didn’t have quite the same impact on me as their debut did, they were just as relatable and as such, powerfully meaningful. It was really interesting to see how they had progressed musically, and, in turn, my own musical tastes started expanding. From the heavy metal Freak to the expansive, orchestral Emotion Sickness, the band were also releasing songs that dealt with more intense, more specific and far darker subject matters. It was as educational as it was enjoyable – Anthem For The Year 2000 was a pseudo-political warcry, Abuse Me took a tongue-in-cheek look at bullying, and Ana’s Song was a soft-spoken, heartbreaking track about eating disorders. The media later revealed that Johns himself had been dealing with anorexia for some time, only cementing the raw, honest emotions that traipsed throughout their entire back catalogue.
It’s amazing to think that this album is now in its 20th year, and yet I only love it more each time I listen to it. Not only was it the album that got me into music, and I wouldn’t be here writing this today if not for it, but it spoke to me – and probably thousands of other young adults – in a way that most other albums couldn’t. Particularly because it was Australian, because it was understandable, simple, so full of angst, not to mention occasionally hilarious. Sure, there was no Bohemian Rhapsody on it, no Comfortably Numb-level guitar solos, no Radiohead-style lyrics that sent you into an abyss of cryptic despair, but there was no need for it. It is what it is, and it meant the world to me.
Today, we celebrate the 20th anniversary of Frogstomp with a fully remastered edition available, complete with live versions of each track, DVDs and even vinyls for the truly dedicated (like myself.) Stream it on Spotify here, or purchase on iTunes here.
There’s not much I can say that’ll properly explain my love for Silverchair’s debut album Frogstomp. Not only is it, in my opinion, one of the best Australian rock albums ever, but it’s also, literally, the album that got me into music. I was around 12, maybe 13, and this was the first album I properly listened to, and it made a big difference to my life. From the very first bass tones of Israel’s Son, and that distorted crunch a few bars in, that was it.
Even today it’s insane that these guys recorded this album when they were only in their mid-teens. Now, people are getting to know the new Daniel Johns – the electro-soul crooner whose just dropped his brand new EP, Aerial Love. But if I’m being honest, my favourite Daniel Johns will always be the Daniel Johns who roared and screeched his way through Tomorrow, Pure Massacre, and Leave Me Out.
Had this poster on my wall until I was like 17
Anyway, on March 27 we will be celebrating the 20th anniversary of Frogstomp. Sony Music are honouring it in style, with a remastered two-CD edition, a DVD, vinyl and digital releases all coming out next Friday.
SO it is my absolute personal pleasure to be able to give away five copies of the CD DVD package.
Entering is simple:
- Like Howl & Echoes on Facebook & share the post
- Email giveaways@howlandechoes.com with “FROGSTOMP” in the title, and your name in the email.We’ll be announcing the winners on release date (March 27)
In the meantime, enjoy the hell outta this epic slice of Aussie rock:
Alright, let’s do this. Over the years artists come and go, change their style, reinvent themselves, record great album and terrible ones. Sometimes they win fans, sometimes they lose them, some burn out and some fade away. And then there’s the artists that sell out.
Here are ten artists who did just that.
Aerosmith
Whether you’re gonna admit it or not, Aerosmith recorded some absolute classics – don’t tell me you haven’t drunkenly sung to Walk This Way, Dude (Looks Like A Lady) and Love In An Elevator.
Unfortunately, any shred of respect anybody ever had for them died a long time ago. Examples: Steve Tyler’s godawful film ‘career’. Guitar Hero: Aerosmith. Steve Tyler being a judge on American Idol.
Aerosmith have become a bunch of dicks who not only stole their highest ever selling song from Celine Dion, but are forever the soundtrack to Ben Affleck waxing philosophical about fucking animal crackers. While Tyler’s daughter Liv gets it on.
Queen
I fucking adore Queen. Freddie Mercury had the greatest voice of anybody, ever, in rock history. They’re one of my all time favourite bands. Unfortunately, after he passed away, things took a turn for the worse. Way, way too much time has been filled by the remaining members attempting to relive the glory days. Remember that time Queen re-did We Will Rock You with boy-band 5ive? Or the time Taylor and May performed Bohemian Rhapsody on the X-Factor, and We Will Rock You on American Idol?
I’m leaving Adam Lambert out because admittedly, I was blown away when I saw them play together a couple months ago. But the fact remains that this event should not have existed. They should have disbanded permanently when Freddie died.
Sex Pistols
Oh my god, the Sex Pistols. Arguably, they were always sell-outs, considering that their whole punk image was meticulously sculpted by endless asshole Malcolm McLaren. The Sex Pistols were a lot more similar to 5 Seconds of Summer than anybody cares to admit.
Here is the leader of the punk revolution advertising British fucking butter.
OH AND DON’T FORGET THE TIME HE WAS ON JUDGE JUDY
Iggy Pop
I really like Iggy Pop, but there’s no denying that he deserves a spot on this list. The man who used to slash himself to bits in the name of rock ‘n roll; the man who had an enticingly gossip-worthy relationship with Bowie, the man who had my all-time favourite awkward conversation with my beloved Tom Waits, the man who will almost certainly live forever alongside Lemmy and Keith Richards was not only on American Idol, but in an ad for CAR INSURANCE. What a glorious dickhead.
Chris Cornell.
Anyone who has known me for while knows that behind the hip hop, bass-heavy electronic, ambient, soul and everything else I listen to daily, will know that my heart lies with rock ‘n roll and grunge. I freaking adore Soundgarden and Chris Cornell has the third best voice in the genre, after Staley and Vedder.
Then in 2009, this happened:
I have no words. I remember seeing this video at some cafe with my family. I nearly cried. I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t.
He also co-wrote a song for someone off American Idol. That seems to be a bit of a trend with the artists on this list, hmmm.
INXS
As an Australian, I am very proud of INXS. Sitting somewhere between Duran Duran, The Police and Tears For Fears, with a frontman blessed with the charisma, good looks and swingin’ hips of Jim Morrison, INXS did a hell of a lot for Australian rock music. Then, Michael Hutchence died.
But they didn’t stop there. INXS went further than the other guys on this list when it comes to being involved in reality TV. Remember Rock Star: INXS? The entire reality TV season dedicated to finding them a new singer, and for some reason Dave Navarro was there?
I want to shirt-front every single person in this photo
It really made me cringe. Okay, so Queen recruited a guy from Idol. But INXS made their own fucking show entirely about it. It was SHAMEFUL AND HUMILIATING. JD Fortune, the dude who won? How could he be anything even remotely close to Hutchence? Why did they even try? Seriously. Why.
This guy
Or this guy.
Are you fucking kidding me?
If your next question is “Did you just spend half an hour staring at photos of Michael Hutchence and listening to ‘INXS Remastered’?” Then I think you know what the answer is.
Eminem
This is a tough one because I really, really love Eminem. I love that Rick Rubin worked on MMLP2 – Hell, I love that it was called MMLP2. But the fact is that he has sold the fuckkkkk out.
Firstly (and I realise many may disagree with this.) One of the first things anybody learns about Slim Shady is that he really fucking hates his mum – and for good reason. I hate Debbie. You probably hate Debbie. I can personally guarantee that at least a few million people have yelled the words “FUCK YOU DEBBIE” with absolute glee, over the past decade or so. We learn so much about Debbie from Em’s songs. Her crippling pharmaceutical addiction. Her lies about her health for government benefits. Her gross mistreatment of baby Marshall, and kid Marshall, and teen Marshall to the point where he had to constantly, aggressively, violenty rap about it. And then, WHAT THE FUCK. HE APOLOGISES. THROUGH SONG. AND THEN THROUGH REAL WORDS. THEN THEY HUGGED.
MY LIFE IS A LIE
On a more legitimate level, Eminem has progressively become soppier, poppier and generally worse. The dumb pop stars he used to make fun of? Now he features them on his songs. In general (with some exceptions – there were a handful of brilliant tracks that shone through MMLP2) his music has been steadily stumbling for around four albums now. Particularly in his over-usage of annoying female-led helium-high pop choruses, over-produced backing rhythms, and far, far too many ghost writers. It really makes me sad.
Jay Z
Magna Carta Holy Grail was an ad for Samsung. And it was a terrible album anyway. He’s an unbelievably successful businessman. He should stick to that. He should not pretend to be any kind of credible rapper anymore because he’s not.
That’s all I’ve gotta say about that one.
I bet he thinks its ironic.
Ice Cube
Staying on rap train for now – unlike Ice Cube. Some might argue that Ice Cube didn’t necessarily sell out, more that he re-branded. He is a pretty good actor after all, and in all honesty, 21 & 22 Jump Street were actually fucking hilarious. But when you think about the fact that this is the guy who did this
And then the fact that he did this
You will realise that it’s possibly the lowest moment in hip hop history.
Silverchair
Finally, Silverchair. So, Silverchair were the first band that ever got me into music. I have an extremely vivid memory of hearing Frogstomp for the first time, around 12 years old. It changed my life and I’m not alone in that sentiment. Frogstomp, Freak Show and even Neon Ballroom are some of the best Australian rock albums – and in the case of Frogstomp, one of the best rock albums in general – for the last three decades.
Then, Diorama happened. Then The Dissociatives happened.
Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Anyway, there you have it. I’m going to go weep into my copy of Superunknown now.