In 1999 there was plenty going on. The new millennium was just around the corner, Sydney was to host the Olympics, I secured my first full time job and spent Monday nights video taping South Park off SBS. DVDs were new, Star Wars was back at the cinema and GST was coming. It was a time when the internet was exploding and places like CD NOW (with a back catalogue even Brashs, Virgin, Sanity, HMV, Sandlers etc didn’t carry or import) got loads of my money. On the music scene, 1999 was a year dominated by Nu-Metal, boybands, big beat and chill out. Personally, I was in a distinctly ‘retro’ phase, buying up back catalogue of heaps of 80’s bands. But it was also the year an Australian act won my heart.
The band I’m talking about, of course, is Sydney band Lino.
Who?
Exactly!
Lino had a perfectly pop-tacular tune in Troubleshooting. They had another grimy ambient track in Drop. And then there was the whimsical little ditty Wasted.
That’s who!
I often stand accused of saying such and such is ‘criminally underrated’ but in this instance I stand firm. You see, Lino’s self-titled debut album is as close to pop perfection as I can get. And it’s always gladdened me that such a gem could exist but at the same time, saddened me that such a gem didn’t go supernova. When I first entertained the idea of this column, I realised that as the band existed between 1999-2001, their presence on the internet is almost non-existent. So in an effort to find out more, I recently tracked down singer Lisa Ffrench who kindly agreed to have a chat about her time in the band.
After a bit of email-tag, Lisa and I finally caught up and I was instantly won over by her effervescent personality. With nervousness on both sides, I launched right in, relieved and pleased that Lisa was happy to reminisce on her time with Lino, laughingly saying "the whole thing was hilarious". Her friends (and band mates) Andrew Lancaster and Jad McAdam had put together some music for a dance company. As they sat around listening to it, Lisa put some vocals over the top. Immediately the trio joked they should start a band.
That joke soon turned into action. A fascination of mine is how hard or easy it is for bands to create my favourite songs, and I was pleased to hear Troubleshooting (my fave) came very easy. In fact, the songs were done so quickly in Andrew’s studio, it wasn’t long before they cut a demo accompanied by some simple cute artwork and sent it out to the record industry powers that be. That was shortly followed by a knock on the door from Virgin / EMI offering them a record deal. The recording process was easy and fun, basically three friends hanging out. There was no pressure, no angst, no torture and since the demos were pretty much done, there was only a little bit of studio attention needed for the tracks. Again, Lisa stresses it was hilarious - they had done no shows, no gigs, no press, recorded an album with relative ease and here they were with a record deal.
When I ask if this prompted a ‘yes…we’ve made it’ moment, Lisa laughs again. It was all so unexpected. She was a choreographer working at Freedom Furniture; Andrew was a film director and composer; and Jad was studying, DJing and working in a record shop. If anything the speed with which it all happened lent a touch of absurdity. Lisa does stress though how fortunate they were to get the deal. They delivered the album with a minimum of fuss and were given freedom by the label to produce their own film clips and present the band as they wanted to. When I refer to the wonderful album cover, Lisa thanks me and says it stemmed from the demo artwork - cute Japanese paper dolls. When the album was to be released, a graphic designer (Mark Gowing) presented them with the concept of the wax-paper-ish, see-through album cover and they were won over.
Whenever I listen to Lino, I noted it felt like a soundtrack, and Lisa confirms that film (amongst other things) influenced the album. Jad was in to diverse music and would sample plenty of movies for sounds on the record, and in fact the song Han, is a tribute to everyone’s favourite smuggler Han Solo! Lisa confesses she was in to pop and bands like Portishead, Massive Attack and EBTG, but Lino was a sum of its parts, cherry picking from art, film, dance, pop and combining it all was plenty of fun.
Considering Australia’s current popular electronica scene, I suggested that had Lino come out a few years later, they would be more appreciated. Lisa mulled this thought and agreed that electronica in Australia certainly was more mainstream now, but it had nothing to do with them and she is comfortable that Lino was what it was - fun, nothing serious with no “this is it” moment. Lisa did let slip that hearing their song for the first time on radio was very, very exciting. As always, Triple J played and backed the start-up Aussie band, and rage aired the videos.
It’s with regret, Lisa answers my next question: she very much doubts the Lino album will appear on iTunes any time soon, and that the record company own the rights. Furthermore, Lisa is brutally honest - there’s no real call for it. Then there’s another laugh, and Lisa says maybe she’ll bring it up with Andrew next time they speak.
I tack left and ask Lisa what was the last album she bought/downloaded and she offers up Glass Animals’ Zaba after consulting her iPhone. Her desert island discs would definitely include Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Everything But The Girl’s greatest hits and the Grease soundtrack. Admitting she doesn’t sing or hum her own tunes whilst in the shower or stuck in traffic (she told Andrew she was doing the interview and joked she couldn’t remember many of the lyrics these days), Lisa confides with a blush her latest guilty pleasure is Michael Jackson’s Love Never Felt So Good. She is a woman after my own heart, deeply missing cassingles, which leads to a confession: my useless high school wood working skills went towards a cassingle rack to house all my tapes. Together we also lament the death of album covers and agree the lack of covers, liner notes and lyric sheets diminishes the overall music listening experience.
Having taken up more than enough of Lisa’s lunch break whilst she juggled countless meetings, I let her get back to being Associate Director of Programming at the Carriageworks. Admitting I had a blast at the Pet Shop Boys show there last year, Lisa revealed with another of her chuckles that she been able to go to lunch with the pair when they were in Sydney and confirmed they were lovely fellows. And all too soon our little interview was done. I tried hard not to come across as the fawning sycophant as I gushed my thanks for such a wonderful album that sits in my list of all time faves, but I don’t think I really succeeded. I think I ended up a bit like South Park’s Kyle telling Robert Smith The Cure’s Disintegration was the ‘best album ever’.
The one thing I forgot to ask was there any significance to the name ‘Lino’ - as I’m sure my mother-in-law will ask me why. But then again, all you really need to know is Lino was a great band and Lino is a wonderful album. If you can nab a copy off Ebay, you’re doing yourself a favour. Maybe sometime, I’ll organise a listening party at my place and revel in one of Australia’s best ever albums. You’re all invited.
