Dear Plastic

On the one hand, these complaints could be seen as mere trifles, uttered to fill the dead air in conversation, but there’s no denying the weather affects our moods and behaviour. This Thursday, on a winter’s night, Melbourne five-piece Dear Plastic launch their new single ‘Overwinter’ at Goodgod Small Club. Vocalist Scarlette Baccini admits the weather also influences her creative mind.

“Your physiology changes with the seasons, and it’s impossible for your brain to ignore it,” she says. “The weather can have a big impact on the mood of the music you want to write. On the other hand, there are certain themes I’m always drawn to, no matter what’s happening around me. So some things never change. You could put me on Mars, and I would still want to write a song about how sea creatures evolved spiny parts, or about murders.”

‘Overwinter’ doesn’t deal with murder, but it’s a fairly bleak look at the issue of locating meaning in a world that’s fundamentally apathetic. The song is rooted in a simmering, fuzzy bass groove, over which Baccini’s gentle vocal melancholia forms an engaging contrast. Throughout, the song seems on the verge of eruption, but the outburst never fully transpires, which compounds the overall tension. The climatic equivalent would be a day cloaked in heavy thunderclouds with the occasional glimmer of sunshine poking through. It keeps you on edge, at all times anticipating the storm’s arrival.

“We like making people feel uncomfortable for prolonged periods,” Baccini says. “Withholding the eruption leaves you with this great itchy feeling. I think that kind of tension was especially right for that song, because it’s all about dissatisfaction and searching for answers while life just creeps on around you without a care. The creeping is an essential element.”

‘Overwinter’is the fourth single taken from Dear Plastic’s The Thieves Are Babes LP. The record landed last October, and they’ve just re-released it on red double vinyl. Nine months on from the album’s release, Baccini’s perspective has significantly altered.

“The love-hate I have felt for that album is so strange and intense,” she says. “It’s a lot easier to feel at peace with it now than it was when it first came out. In the final throes of its creation, I was furious with it, and embarrassed. I wanted to change everything. When it’s only been finished for a few hours, or a few days, it seems close enough to touch. I wanted to keep prodding. But that’s how you ruin the magic, and I’m glad we let go when we did. I’m just sorry that my poor band pals had to suffer through my rage at the time.

“It’s been long enough that I’ve grown to love it more than anything else I’ve ever helped to make. It’s a true marker for that period in our development, and I am proud of that. I love that I can hear my voice a little younger, and our conflicting tastes. You can hear us playing. I’m so glad we left in plenty of juicy, raw stuff, and I finally realise that no-one else will ever hear it the same way I do anyway. A bit of nostalgia helps soothe the regret-rage, too.”