Interviews
Track By Track : Cousin Tony's Brand New Firebird, 'Smiles Of Earth'
Ben Preece
25 Aug 2022

Melbourne indie rock stalwarts Cousin Tony’s Brand New Firebird return with their new album Smiles Of Earth, another quality addition to their ever-growing cannon and perhaps their most stylistically cohesive, organic and collaborative statement to date. The record oozes warmth for an uncertain time with the increased use of horns across the gamut of these 10 songs, ranging from observational, whimsical and aspirationalq to quirky to deeply moving ruminations on love lost (and found).
Frontman Lachlan Rose explains: “Like most albums, Smiles of Earth has been a labour of deep love. Thwarted by lockdowns and the creative process itself, we attempted to make this record in numerous ways. Thanks to the patience and dedication of the band members, as well as the nurturing talents of producer Stephen Charles, the album was finally realised at The Aviary in Abbotsford, Melbourne. The inner themes of peacefulness and positive perspective truly levitated the performers throughout the recording process and they embodied its spirit wholeheartedly. I think that spirit is now undeniable in the sound of the album. In a word, this album was written to make you smile.
“As the name leans towards, Smiles of Earth comes from a place of inherent peacefulness. Inspired by Albert Camus’ ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’, the phrase captures the natural beauty of the world we live in, which is ever-present but not necessarily always appreciated. While the songs certainly explore the struggles involved in obtaining these positive perspectives, the overall feeling I wanted to leave people with was the choice. The choice between meaninglessness and beauty”.
Those already familiar with the band already understand the earnest charisma of musically gifted singer, songwriter and frontman for the band. Here, he takes us through a track-by-track look at the creative processes and inspiration behind this excellent third record.
GABRIEL’S HORN
There’s a lot going on in this opener. Firstly - it was always the opener. I was obsessing over Led Zeppelin’s ‘Kashmir’, particularly the way John Bonham plays an unwavering 4/4 beat under Jimmy Page’s iconic 3/4 chord progression. I had this 7/4 xylophone hook I was wrestling to make sense of. I thought of ‘Kashmir’ and realised our drummer Rick Reid should just play this simple as shit 4/4 beat through the whole thing. The song just snapped together into this ridiculous ’80’s TV show theme or something. I had that saxophone hook in my head and started visualising this sexual angel man (Gabriel) just blowing away while the world crumbled around him. When I explained it all to Rick as we were recording, he kind of just assimilated all of that information and said “Right. A homoerotic anthem for the apocalypse. Got it.” I’ll always love him for that.
There’s a lot going on in this opener.
RED DIRT ANGEL
An Australia dreamscape, ‘Red Dirt Angel’ was the first song that opened up the doors to Smiles of Earth. Somewhere during our lengthy Melbourne lockdowns I began dreaming constantly of the outback. The red dirt angel was a faceless usher who continuously led me through the arid, red-earth deserts of Australia. I longed to be behind the wheel of a filthy car with no real destination. For one reason or another, that visual represented ultimate freedom for me, which is the one thing none of us had. The song followed shortly. It’s unapologetically Australian, euphoric and a contribution to the wonderful world of road trip music.
WHEN THIS IS OVER
As far as artistic offerings go, the last thing I felt people needed was a reminder of the pandemic and its consequences. But as it unrolled and began to affect my loved ones so deeply, I started to formulate this hopeful sound that served as some kind of anthemic beacon of times to come. Hearing people talk of their plans to travel, connect, socialise, and party was devastating in its hopeful simplicity, and the phrase “when this is over” was used all too frequently. It wasn’t about dragging people down to the depths of my isolation, but painting this hyper colour vision of the connection - romantic, spiritual, emotional - that awaited us on the other side.
BLUESTONE
For me, ‘Bluestone’ is a song of acceptance. Heartache and grief reach a certain stage at which you can finally turn around and view it with gratitude for the way in which it has shaped you.
