Frank Yamma is an old soul. The Adelaide-based songwriter’s disarming vocal timbre depicts a life of rugged experience, which belies his 44 years. This impression is enhanced by Yamma’s oft-sorrowful, figurative lyrics. In conversation, Yamma is a man of few words. It’s not that he’s blunt or uncooperative; he’s just not interested in wasting breath. When reflecting on his new recordUncle –which follows 2010’s celebratedCountryman– Yamma simplifies: “Uncle’s quite different thanCountryman.It’s like the next step. It’s similar toCountryman, but it’s different toCountryman. It’s another level, I reckon.”
Both of these records are powered by Yamma’s unassailable vocals and the detailed unravelling of his unique perspective. At certain moments – such as on Uncle’s opening number, ‘A Black Man’s Crying’– this binary spawns sublime poignancy. Attempts to articulate the precise cause of prodigious artistry are hardly ever useful, but Yamma is willing to interrogate his own songwriting process.
“I find a scale and then I have to fit the words into the scale,” he says. “Singing in a scale, [I have to choose] what words are going to be in that particular area. It makes me think really wild. I’m thinking, ‘I’ll give this word, I’ll give this word.’ [It’s] bits and pieces and when I sing it together, it just sometimes really makes me feel good.
“Sometimes it’s surprising,” he adds. “You see some things all the time and it sounds like you, or it’s waiting for you to write it down or something. This happens sometimes as a surprise, like, ‘Oh mate, I can’t get this thing out of my head,’ so I put the words in a pattern and I have to find the music for it. All the things happen in that moment, so you have to grab it before it slips away.”
After growing up in Central Australia, Yamma is now a city-dweller. However, he still appreciates privacy, which could explain why his songs frequently seem like intimate self-portraits. That said, he’s always aware of who’ll be listening.
“First of all, when I’m writing a song, I think about the audience and the response from the song. That’s the main important part. I just don’t like writing songs for myself. I need the audience to listen when I sing onstage.”
Yamma’s preference for time alone hasn’t deterred him from hitting the road in recent years. As well as travelling around Australia, he’s performed at numerous festivals in the UK, Canada and Europe, and in October he took part in the invite-only WOMEX world music conference in Spain. Rooted in his stunning vocal apparatus and unvarnished lyrical revelations, Yamma’s live performances are known to induce sincere vulnerability in audience members.
“The great thing about the audience,” he says, “is [it makes you think about] how you’re going to feel comfortable when you sing the song onstage. All that stuff, that’s got to be prepared for the audience to listen.”
Sydney fans will get their turn when Yamma launches Uncle this Thursday at Newtown Social Club, co-headlining with rising Australian songwriter Radical Son. Both Yamma and Radical Son’s David Leha are frequently described as ‘indigenous artists’. It’s true Yamma comes from Central Australia and identifies as a Pitjantjatjara man. However, he says this biographical detail needn’t define his artistry.
“I know what I am, but plus, I’m just a muso who wants to play music. I know my background and I’m proud of that. It’s alright to be an indigenous music singer, but you have to share it around for everybody to listen to what you’ve got. That’s important.”
Uncle out now through Wantok/Planet. Catch him alongsideRadical Son atNewtown Social ClubonThursday December 11, tickets online.
