Falls

With the echoes of their Folk Club still sounding through Sydney, and their debut album, Omaha, set to be one of the year’s most resplendent releases, Melinda Kirwin and Simon Rudston-Brown are sitting pretty. Through writing, international touring, relocating to Los Angeles and the end of their romantic relationship – if not their musical one – the pair have been collecting stories from shore to shore.

“Somewhere along the way I think we just got braver,” Kirwin reflects. “Our first EP was our stepping out, taking songs from what had just been the two of us in a live context and seeing where we could go. This time we really pushed the limits of what we did with our sound. Not playing things too safe, to try and create something that was uniquely us.

“I don’t think it was the change in our personal dynamics that caused it. You can’t erase the history we have; we’re like each other’s family. The reason we’re still doing this together is because it’s the one thing that has always been easy – it’s never been hard to write or play together. Even when all that other crap was going on, the one thing we could still get in there and do was make music. So I feel this record is us taking that next step. Being brave. That’s why it’s also a little terrifying.”

It has certainly been a remarkable road. Falls found their feet playing at the Hollywood Hotel in Surry Hills, and as their recent homecoming performances attested, there remains an impassioned fan base at their old stomping ground. Their own music notwithstanding, Falls left a rather indelible mark on the Sydney folk movement through Folk Club, and while a variety of singer-songwriter nights have since taken root, the scene owes a lot to Kirwin and Rudston-Brown’s vision.

“Folk Club really came about because I’d seen what Mumford & Sons were doing with Communion over in London,” says Kirwin. “It was so exciting to see this community of musicians all supporting each other, working and creating something really cool. It felt like something that was missing here at the time, and I feel like that has changed so much in the last couple of years. There’s been a real shift, and there are so many folk singer-songwriter nights that have emerged since Folk Club, and that’s so exciting. When we started, we really didn’t know if it would work, and by the end of the first year, we really did see this community emerge.”

While Falls certainly aren’t claiming full responsibility for the resurgence of folk music in Sydney, there is little doubt they’ve played a significant part in the strength of the scene today. However, as new folk artists continue to emerge, there is a strange imbalance that threatens to appear; a potential homogeneity of sound as fans who grew up listening to the likes of Mumford & Sons, Laura Marling and Boy & Bear begin showcasing their wares.

“I think that’s where the danger creeps in,” Kirwin says. “I think the term ‘folk’ gets a little distorted, because it does become one sound rather than many. Something we tried to do with Folk Club was have artists we felt fit under the umbrella but were all quite distinct. We felt like the bands that played weren’t really imitating anyone. But what does start to emerge, and I think this is across most scenes, is that when a band starts to become popular, lots of mini-versions of that sound start to appear. But I think it’s the opposite of what music is. The reason why those bands were so successful is because when they first appeared, they were the only ones who were really doing that. So I think it’s important even within the genre to stay distinct, and I think a lot of it still is. Hopefully the sound of folk music can be used to evolve into new music.”

Before unshackling Kirwin from our interview, I ask about the genesis of my favourite song from the album, ‘When We Were Young’ – a track that has been taxiing about my head now for weeks.

“I notice a lot of older people at bus stops and on the subway, and you speculate about their stories. There’s a guy who lives in my old building, Arthur, who works at the strip clubs in Kings Cross. And he is one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met in my life, and I wish I could see who he was when he was that young guy working down at the Cross. He says he wishes it hadn’t been his life, but he’s too old to do anything about it now. But I would just be so fascinated to meet him as a young man.

“I’ve had a similar experience in LA, with an old lady who lives downstairs from me. The first time she asked me for help with Facebook, she showed me some photos of when she was young. And she was saying, ‘Oh, I used to be so beautiful!’ She wished she could still show me a version of herself when she was at her most vibrant, and that’s what the song is really about. It’s not about us personally; it’s about the people you meet along the way.”