For a band that’s counting down the days to the release of their debut full-length album, serving up a live set featuring mostly new songs must have seemd slightly unorthodox to those who attended The Areola Treat’s gig last February.
There is, of course, a logical reason behind it, and it largely boils down to the fact that the album, Pleasure Machines, had been finished and awaiting a release date for well over a year.
The band, on the other hand, pushed ahead regardless, to the extent that they’ve now written enough new material for another album, maybe two.
I’ve no doubt they’d love to talk about the new songs but that isn’t what I’m here for. Right here, right now, it’s all about the new album and the band’s journey to here.
Their rehearsal room hasn’t changed much since it used to house Lumière, guitarist Adrian Mizzi and drummer Chris Busuttil’s former band, and home-made décor and collectible curios remain the furnishings du jour.
When I arrive, Busuttil is sweating buckets and guzzling litres of water, the result of another intense rehearsal-in-progress in the run-up to this Saturday’s live performance during which the album will finally see the light of day.
They’ve a couple more songs still to go through, so I sit in and enjoy the private performance, which, to my delight, ends with Boulevard Werewolf, an outright epic tune and a personal favourite.
The rehearsal over, the band huddles around for a chat about what they’ve been up to since the release of the debut self-titled EP in 2008.
“Well, besides releasing the EP in 2008 we also played three gigs in Belgium and practically wrote all the songs that appear on Pleasure Machines,” Mizzi responds, summing it all up quite economically.
The following year, the band went back to Temple Studios (where they had recorded the EP) and recorded the album, following which, former Retrophyte Steve Shaw stepped into bassist Matthew Cuschieri’s shoes.
After what Shaw describes as a ‘crash course’ in learning Cuschieri’s basslines, the band went abroad on a mini-tour, an experience that must have helped the new addition to settle in.
“Actually he blended in quite well from day one,” says Lisa Micallef Grimaud, the band’s vocalist and only female member, “although he was a bit shy, musically speaking.”
Busuttil averts his attention momentarily from the roll-up he’s fumbling with. “I think what helped Steve most was that he learnt the songs directly from Matthew.”
It’s an opinion shared by all of them, Micallef Grimaud in particular, who says she sometimes has to look twice to check that it’s Shaw playing bass, as he captures the former bassist’s feel so precisely.
This may be the case as far as the band’s previous repertoire is concerned, but the new material is a different kettle of fish, as Mizzi explains: “The songs we’ve written since Steve joined are different… darker, even, so I suppose he’s affected the band’s new sound that way.”
They attribute the changes in their sound to the use of yet more different tunings, which kind of instils an air of complexity that glaringly contrasts with The Areola Treat’s original mission statement of “going with the simple approach”.
Nevertheless, this fresh point of departure helped in that it gave all four members a common starting line; one that enabled them to get comfortable all over again and tune in to what the new line-up could collectively create.
Aware that the newer songs are subtly infiltrating our conversation, I steer my attention back to the album, specifically what had caused the delay of its release for so long.
It’s a story they must be sick of telling, but Mizzi tells it one more time anyway. “After spending time negotiating with various interested labels, the one we almost signed with decided they only wanted to put out a digital release, while we were determined on having a physical release included too.”
As he puts it, labels nowadays seem to be looking for the cheap option. “We felt that if the label really wanted us, they would be prepared to show it by investing in us; instead, all they offered was to put our music in their online store. Whether it sold or not didn’t affect them because those songs cost them nothing, so we decided that since we had financed the whole album, we could take care of business ourselves and keep the rights to our music too.”
One thing they admit they strongly fear is the looming threat to the existence of CDs, which sparks off an interesting debate that takes in anything from the thrill of scouring record shops to the incredibly personal experience that handling vinyl records offers.
Current trends by upcoming bands attempting to secure a surefire way of overcoming the download phenomenon are also discussed, but the bare truth remains that the world has become too attached, too dependent on technology.
Incidentally, it turns out that this technological ‘influenza’ also lurks at the heart of the album’s concept and a good number of the songs contained within it.
Referring to the album’s unusual cover art, the imaginative work of Chris De Souza Jensen, Micallef Grimaud explains that “the title Pleasure Machines is reflected in the illustration, but beyond that, there is also the concept of seeing ourselves as slaves to the sound in the way we are focused on making music for others to consume, and as slaves to technology because of all the gadgets that have become an extension of our bodies.”
She elaborates about the extent to which we all become part of the machine, sometimes unwittingly, via so many things society imposes on us on a daily basis.
“On the other hand, some of the songs are about various emotions that have infiltrated our lives through external factors, and they mainfest themselves to the point that we no longer have control over them.”
Subject matter aside, the 12-track album’s musical trajectory is interesting in that it resuscitates the EP’s punk-laced edge, at least for the first song or two, only to drift off into a more pronounced and fluid post-punk feel that indelibly marks Devil’s Hall Jukebox and elsewhere, Matter of Taste, matter of Lust, easily two of the album’s most remarkable tracks.
The alternative twist, crafted as much by Mizzi’s measured but effective guitarwork as it is by Shaw’s sturdy, sleek basslines and Busuttil’s punctuating rhythms is present throughout, with stronger melodic traits colouring the catchier tracks, namely 100 Silhouettes and the current single Nothing There.
Of particular note, Micallef Grimaud’s incredible ability to flex her vocal range and timbre is an attraction in itself, switching from punky to sombre to edgy; gothic at times and ultimately poignant on the intimate closer Lipstick Traces.
The truth is, there is much at play on Pleasure Machines. Traces of the references that defined their previous work do surface in places, but there’s a new vigour, a broader vision here that elevates these songs to another level – one that reflects a band mindful of where it’s at, and more importantly, as we’re bound to find out soon enough, where it wants to get to.
The Areola Treat will be performing at The Black Pearl in Ta’ Xbiex on Saturday. Upcoming indie band Clandestines will be supporting and DJ Bob will be spinning tunes before and after the live acts. Doors open at 9.30 p.m. and entrance is €7 or €11 inclusive of the new album. www.myspace.com/theareolatreat
bugeja.michael@gmail.com