We get the down low on Royal & The Southern Echo’s addictive debut.
When writing Correspondence whilst living in Berlin, Brisbane singer-songwriter Bryce Schneider AKA Royal & The Southern Echo, was attempting to bring a bit of warmth into his world. Creating bright indie-pop tunes was his way of remedying the depression that creeps in after seeing barely any sunshine for months – though fortunately we are still finding the tracks uplifting and incredibly well crafted on the sunny days too.
Correspondence is a layered and introspective EP that sounds more like the music of a seasoned artist who is well aware of his strengths and how to illuminate them, rather than a debut. Combining elements of pop, folk, and rock, Schneider delivers a lovely mixture of smooth grooves, heartfelt balladry and darker moments that has clearly resonated with listeners around the world (the EP has already amassed over 300K Spotify streams).
But what does it all mean? Have a listen to the EP, then get the story behind the tune from the man himself with our track-by-track below:
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1. ‘Sunburnt Shoulders’
This is one of the first songs I wrote for the EP and for Royal And The Southern Echo as a concept. It’s also one of the most naive on the record, so it made sense to open everything up with it. It was the first song that I worked with (producer) Miro Mackie on and by the time we got to the big pre-chorus guitar splashes I knew I had made the right choice and found a sonic soulmate. Lyrically it’s the story of two people falling in love and going past the honeymoon stage – and maybe beginning to believe in the possibility that a life together could work. The idea that, “hey this could be it, you could be the one – I kind of want to live with you and do all that adult stuff.”
I love the way Ryan Strath’s (Holy Holy) drums propel the song along in a big shuffle, it makes the bridge really take off when everything goes straight 4/4. The other voice you hear in there is none other than Harriette Pilbeam of Hatchie fame. Miro and I had pretty much finished the recording and we kept thinking that the song just “needed something”. He had a bit of a light bulb moment and said “You know what, Harriette would absolutely knock this out of the park” – and a phone call and a couple of hours later she had nailed her takes and it was all ready for the world.
2. ‘Hunt Your Love Down’
I wrote Hunt Your Love Down with the third worst hangover of my life the morning after a dinner party that went wrong. I was trying to win back the affections of my eternally off again on again partner and I thought, “hey I’ll show her I’m an adult and throw a dinner party” – ‘cause that’s what adults do right? Throw dinner parties. Anyways we all had too much wine and it descended into madness and it ended up worse than it was before, but I did cook a damn good meal. Musically the whole thing comes from that acoustic guitar rhythm which is halfway between a country thing and a Latin feel. The horn section idea is something that was in my head from the very beginning of writing the song and I think there is something really romantic about the way it kicks into that harmony at the turn around at the end of the bridge.
The John Steel Singers’ (Scott Bromiley & Pete Bernoth) boys really knocked it out of the park. That was one of the best things about recording the EP at the Plutonium studio – there were always talented folks floating around that we could rope into playing on the record. This song will forever remind me of the rickety old sharehouse it was written in in Woolloongabba. It had about nine rooms with three of us living there and the biggest cactus I have ever encountered.
3. ‘Technicolour’
This is the only song on the EP that doesn’t have an acoustic guitar somewhere on the track. This is the last one I wrote for the EP and it is a great bridge between where I’ve been and where I’m going. It came after a long period of writer’s block and it definitely all started with that bass riff. I vaguely remember having the verse melody (the “I know you smoke too many cigarettes” bit) in my head while walking home from somewhere, then sitting down with the bass and it all came together. It was written in about 5 minutes or so and I didn’t really do much editing either musically or lyrically once it was down in demo form.
My favourite part is the slide guitar, both in the chorus and the solo – no one plays slide in pop songs anymore and it’s a hell of a lot of fun. I think I use it on this song to give some wooziness to it – everything else is played pretty straight. There’s a lot of little half bar stuff here and all of the drumming is world class – Gabriel Webster (The Creases) nailed it. I played him the song once and he totally got it straight away. I’m really lucky he’s playing with me live these days – the gorgeous sunshine man has such tasteful feel and the chops to back it up. The sentiment is all about change, and maybe poking fun at myself a little bit. I wrote it for a person who really inspired me to change my life, be less of a ratbag and just enjoy things a little more. I’d say it’s kind of like my thank you note to them, and wherever they are now I hope they get that.
4. ‘Wait and Wander’
This one is one of the original songs written in Berlin when I was considering what Royal And The Southern Echo could be as a concept or project. I’d say this was written at one of the toughest periods I’ve ever gone through. I was broke, depressed, tired and cold. I had convinced myself that Berlin was going to be an amazing, beautiful, transformative experience (which it did turn out to be in the end) but at this point the outlook was pretty bleak. Someone had even spilled beer on my laptop so I couldn’t even record or demo songs properly.
I remember having a moment thinking, “you don’t have to do this, you can just go home, nobody will think any less of you, you gave it a shot and it didn’t work out” – but for some reason riding the tram that day a little voice inside of my head said, “no you’ll be alright, you’re not going home, you’ll come out of this”. That voice inside my head was right and I ended up having a great time for the majority of the time I spent in Germany, and I learned a lot of really important lessons. The song is almost like a little country tinged singalong – I used to love playing it acoustic in Berlin bars and having the crowd sing with me. I guess it’s a bit of an anthem for a city where most people are from somewhere else.
5. ‘New Lows’
‘New Lows was’ one of the toughest songs I’ve ever written. Not because of the lyrical content or anything, mostly because it just wouldn’t come together. I think I played around with the chords for nearly 6 months. It’s a straight up and down strummer of a song that tells the story of a road trip and I’d say it centres on the idea that yeah things can be tough – especially in relationships; but at the end of the day those tough moments are punctuated with laughter and smiles and fun. Life might be a rollercoaster sometimes, but if you’re with the right person they’ll help you laugh and live through the lows.
This one also has what I’d call my ‘signature’ guitar sound – if I ever have one, which Miro and I have named the ‘Boys of Summer’ sound (it’s a vintage CE-2, a nice compressor and a Space Echo for those playing at home). We actually stumbled across that sound while recording ‘Sunburnt Shoulders’ and you’ll find it peppered across each song on the record. This has some of my favourite bass playing on the entire record by Graham Ritchie of Holy Holy. Graham and Strathie play together so fantastically on this one – it was a pleasure to build everything else on top of such a nice bed.
6. ‘Deep Water’
Deep Water is the very first song I wrote for what was to become Royal And The Southern Echo. It’s one of the rare times where I can actually remember the exact moment where the idea for the song came to me. I remember sitting on the edge of my then partners bed in a flat in Neukölln and going over that ‘gunslingers’ line over and over. Berlin has a big open mic night culture, and if you’re a guitar playing songwriter you’ve kind of gotta get down and dirty in the open mics before you can book your own shows. One thing that struck me was that even though everyone was really supportive of each other there was always an air of competition, everyone kind of itching on their trigger finger.
After toying with that original imagery, later in the day I walked down to my flat a few streets over – which was a tiny place in the bottom of a big old brick apartment building with a huge internal courtyard. I remember the sun had finally come out after about 6 months of winter, and I sat in the courtyard with my acoustic, with the sound bouncing off the brick walls. It pretty much wrote itself at that point, and lyrically it deals with the idea of being away from home for a long time, and feeling like you’re kind of treading water in this new place – that all the things you promised yourself about moving away aren’t necessarily coming true.
I’m a city kid, but I just remember feeling a need to be near the ocean, and my put my head under the water. Musically this song is all about the build, and delivering each section of the story with more intensity. I love when the middle 8th really takes off and all those tight, muted guitars open up into these big crashing swells. The gang vocals were a stroke of luck – I can’t remember the reason why, but Mon from Sweater Curse, George from Babaganouj, Izzy from Izadora, Jordan from Zaped/Trace Decay were all around the Plutonium – so along with Mitch Exton (who was playing with Royals at the time) and Miro, that’s who you hear on the track.
