Adelaide punk band The Empty Threats talk the making of happy birthday, featuring a sheep ranch, fever dreams, and Magic: The Gathering.
It’s release day for The Empty Threats. The Adelaide punk band’s second album, happy birthday, came into the world kicking and screaming earlier this morning, busting with insatiable energy and palpable joie de vivre.
To celebrate, members Stu Patterson, Grace Vandals and Lenny Regione are tucked into a quiet corner of Sydney airport, on the phone with me.
happy birthday’s release represents a new beginning for The Empty Threats. After forming while the original members were in high school – the name was inspired by a Year 11 history teacher who was all bark and no bite – the group has acted like a perpetual stew, gaining and losing many parts across its decade of operation.
“I wouldn’t even say that we were a band back then, we were just bludging school and jamming in one of the band members’ parents’ front rooms,” says Patterson. “I think it’s kind of just evolved over the years, and I think the band has also kind of taken on many different roles and sounds and kept developing. Instead of stopping, we just got new members and then went into another era.”
“I think the members of the band have had a lot of practice with welcoming new voices and new influences and just rolling with the punches – really kind of being open and owning each new chapter of the band,” says Vandals, a jazz singer who’s one of the most recent additions. “It’s been cool to watch and be a part of.”
Now, The Empty Threats are six members strong, with a whole new cast of characters except for original drummer Michael Bond. Recently, they’ve been everywhere, crisscrossing the country to bring their equally magnetic and chaotic live show to a stage near you. But about a year and a half ago, the motley crew decided to embark on a two-week writing trip to build the foundations of an album.
“I think it may have been a collective idea, but it was my idea to send us to the middle of bum f**k nowhere,” laughs Patterson. Their family friend had an overgrown sheep ranch in the Flinders Ranges, an isolated mountain region five hours north of Adelaide.
“I think it’s the highest spot in South Australia as well, [the] highest homestead. So it’s got quite a bit of elevation and gets really cold. There’s no power unless you turn on the generator. We’d only save that for when we’re songwriting, so we’d just kind of rely on gas stoves and the potbelly fire pit to keep us warm,” they say.
“I think we definitely had some moments at the start where it was just like, ‘Oh God, what have we gotten ourselves into?’ But yeah, I reckon there was a really nice middle period where things just started clicking.”
What came out of it was a bucketload of new material, including 10 songs which ended up featuring on happy birthday. “There [were] a lot of strange jams that we put in there. There [were] a couple of, you know, mushroom jams that we would have that were just kind of like, ‘All right, this is just going to stay in this room and nobody’s ever going to hear this,’” Patterson says.
“Wasn’t there a song we came up with when we were all tripping that we did actually use?” asks Regione. “Should we be saying this?” ponders Vandals. “Yeah, I don’t know if we should be saying this, but we’re saying it,” Patterson declares.
On The Empty Threats’ finished album, which was recorded semi-live at Interim studio, the feeling of cohesion is strong. Poppy hooks evolve into full-throttle madness. Voices call and respond, synths whirr and woodwinds squeal as an enduring pulse keeps it all on the rails.
At times, it’s lush and ethereal; at others, gnawing, raw and hot-blooded, sometimes in the same breath. It’s a result that could only have come from such an unusual process.
“I reckon we got some routine blended with a nice bit of fever dream,” Patterson says. “Whoever got up first would put on the fire and put on the coffee, and then we’d have coffee and breakfast. We would take turns making breakfast, and then we’d rehearse for a few hours and song-write. Then we’d have lunch, and then we would maybe write for a bit more and go for a little walk. Then someone would make dinner, then we’d play Magic: The Gathering.”
With a few “competitive souls” in The Empty Threats, the card game game became a group fixation. “I didn’t expect you guys to like it at all,” says Regione.
“But then the next morning, I was the last to wake up, and I came into the main room, and all of them were playing Magic. They said, Oh, Lenny, before we write songs, do you want to, like, play some Magic? [I was like] ‘What the f**k’s going on?’” he says. “I think the specific kind of neurodivergence that we have in the band, Magic really speaks to that kind of mind.”
Now, with happy birthday officially out in the world, The Empty Threats will be touring the album far and wide, playing a few dates in Australia before heading off on a mammoth trek across the UK and Europe.
As a band that’s well known for their unruly conduct on stage, I ask what fans can expect at the upcoming shows. Vandals tells me a story about their most recent gig at Adelaide’s iconic Crown & Anchor pub. “Stu pulled out a special move, basically just stripped down to a G-string. A custom The Empty Threats G-string,” she says. “So, that might make another appearance in Europe.”
“I’ll take it off and throw it into the audience,” Patterson laughs.
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