On first impression, it seems like James Keogh likes to keep his cards pretty close to his chest. It’s album release day when the 30-year-old behind the Vance Joy moniker talks to the BRAG, and he seems resolutely unflustered, even under the glare of two huge lights, two cameras, and the watchful eyes of a roomful of journalists. He doesn’t break a sweat. His brow is smooth, unbroken by frown lines – while we’re getting set up, he takes the time to show off his socks, a colourful, custom-made pair given to him by a friend, as the chaos swirls around him.
Basically, spend enough time in Keogh’s presence and you’ll find yourself wracked by the overwhelming desire to say something completely off the wall and nuts, just to see if you can throw him; just to test what it takes to pierce the veil of calm he projects.
Even his answers seem a little guarded, initially. His new record, Nation Of Two, has only been out for a few hours – is he worried about how it will be received? “Not really,” he says, his eyes flashing politely. He’s spent the morning on Sunrise, the morning television program, so he hasn’t had much time to really think about the record, he says. Surely he must some doubts and worries though, particularly given the pressure on him to follow-up the success of ‘Riptide’, the song that made him an international star? But no, he doesn’t think so. He’s just happy to make music; happy to be heard.
And so, after maybe 20 minutes in his company, you finally realise the truth. Keogh isn’t trying to hide anything from you. He’s not playing anything down, or trying to beat you at a poker game you don’t even initially realise that you’re playing. He is just firmly and distinctly committed, and it’s his self-confidence, paradoxically, that makes him appear so cautious and reserved. He picked out a career as a musician for himself years ago, back when he was a young law student and athlete, and now he’s following that dream. Nothing’s going to slow him down, or put a dampener on his spirits – not the eye of the camera, or the warmth of the lights, or the questions of a journalist who’s only just realising that Keogh is the real, authentic deal.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
The BRAG: Does the album still feel like yours when you release it out into the world? Or does it belong to everyone now?
Vance Joy: I think it belongs to everyone. People will gravitate towards the songs they gravitate towards, which is cool. And if I look on my hashtag, then I can see which songs people have listened to and posted about. Especially right at the start, I like doing that. You can go, ‘Oh, people have listened to that particular song.’ It’s nice. It’s nice feedback.
Do you get a sense when you’re writing the album of like, ‘Oh, this is the big song – this is gonna be the single.’
Not really. I let it happen. The songs are just happening, and you’re just feeling your instinct around them. If the song is good, and if it feels like it has enough ingredients to make it a worthy tune, you go along with the feeling of it. It calls out for the style that is required, even when you’re doing the production.
They’re either gonna be like, ‘Thanks, I love it’, or they’re gonna go, ‘Thanks, I really love it.’
And you do, you get that feeling of like, ‘This is fun, this feels great to sing.’ And you get the sense of whether it’s upbeat or not too, because usually the criteria for a single is that they have an upbeat vibe. But there’s songs that you write that are ballads, and don’t really have much production – they’re just your voice and a guitar – and you go, ‘This is cool.’ And people sometimes go, ‘Wow, that’s the song that I like most out of all of them.’
And that’s surprising. You go, ‘I never envisaged that song would have that life, or be special.’
Who are the first people you show songs to?
I show it to my mum and my dad, my sister… They’re the first wave of people. And then after I show it to them, I usually show it to my managers – I’ll usually just send them a little voice memo. And that’s usually when I’ve realised, ‘This is a song that makes sense; I’ve had some positive feedback from this one.’ And it’s nice, [my managers] will never be like, ‘Oh, that song sucks, write more songs.’ They’re either gonna be like, ‘Thanks, I love it’, or they’re gonna go, ‘Thanks, I really love it.’
It’s up to you to decide which one is more genuine. Not that they’re ever not genuine – but sometimes you do get a really strong initial response, and you realise, ‘Oh, they do really like this one.’
So when you first started out and you didn’t have managers to show it to, did you know when a song was finished?
Were you like, ‘Yep, this is it’? Luckily, I’ve always gotten a pretty good sense of when a song’s finished. Although sometimes you write a song, and you do get the sense of like, ‘This isn’t finished quite yet.’ I had that with ‘Mess Is Mine’ [from 2015’s Dream Your Life Away.] I had an idea for a chorus, and there were parts spread around. So in the recording process we put all the parts together and made a song that made sense.
But usually I feel like when I’m recording that first voice memo and sending it off, then it’s done. You just have to trust yourself. And you kinda know, because you go, ‘This is the verse, this is the chorus, this is the little instrumental bit, and then it goes back to the chorus.’ And that’s it.
Have you ever had a time when you’re writing a song, and you’ve just gone, ‘This is awful; I have to abandon this’?
It’s almost like it doesn’t even get to that point. That’s something that maybe happens in a songwriting session, because you’re going, ‘Okay, let’s push through this, let’s write this song today, the chords are going to be A minor, B and G.’ You’re forcing it out to some degree. And in those cases, instead of abandoning something before it comes out, you give birth to some weird song. And you go, ‘Okay, I don’t need to hear that again.’
You just have to trust yourself.
But when I’m writing by myself, the stem of an idea gets collected on my phone, but I never feel like I’m spending four hours trying to get something out, or sit there going ‘I’m going to rhyme ‘grass’ with ‘glass’.’
I never feel like it’s work. I wouldn’t commit the time to a bad song. The writing process only happens you think something is worth pursuing, so you pursue it. And then maybe only later you go, ‘That sucks, or that’s cool.’ But when you’re in the moment – you’re there with the song – you always get this sense of like, ‘Oh, wow, this actually feels really cool.’
Vance Joy will play the Hordern Pavilion on Friday September 14, and Nation of Two is out through Mushroom/Liberation now.
