Band of Brothers
(The Courier Mail, May '03)

IF SINGERS Kylie Minogue and Kasey Chambers were the only two artists who turned up at last year's ARIAs, more than half the awards still would have been received in person.

Despite the Australian music industry being built on testosterone-driven pub rock, the Y chromosome lately has been overshadowed by the virtues of Kylie, Kasey, Natalie, Holly and now Delta. The chicks, it would seem, are providing the lion's share of success on the music scene.

There must be blokes out there waiting for the winds of change, ready to strike the minute those gals let their guard down – or at least fall pregnant.

Where are our next poets and pin-ups coming from? How do they feel about the current chick phenomenon? And is it harder to be "cool" if you are a bloke?

Being cool
SHANE Nicholson knows from experience that being a "cool" solo artist is harder than being a "cool" lead singer in a band.

"When I was in PVS (Brisbane-based melodic rock group Pretty Violet Stain), I was so into what we would wear and how we should look. We'd have meetings about it," he laughs. "But when it's just you – just your name – you're much more concerned about looking like a dick."

The 28-year-old singer/songwriter's debut album, It's A Movie, is an elegant blend of contemporary folk, roots and rock. As a result, the artist has more chance of winning lotto than getting airplay on commercial radio – but he's not worried.

"I wanted to make the album my way and I knew the risks," he says in a characteristically measured, almost timid tone.

"It does feel a bit lonely at times, but then again some of the most successful artists on the planet don't make it past two or three albums. I'd rather go along quietly and for much longer."

Besides, it hasn't all been bad news for Nicholson. As well as being compared to songwriting legends such as Neil Finn (their vocal similarities are unsettling), he has attracted support, opened shows for Natalie Merchant and Alex Lloyd, found a following in Canada and been wholeheartedly embraced by the Kasey Chambers camp.

Not only did award-winning producer Nash Chambers produce Nicholson's album, Kasey provided vocal support on the first single, jumps on stage with him at any opportunity, and after they went on a recent fishing trip together asked him to sing on the B side to her chart-topping True Colours single.

Given the similarities in their organic, soulful musical approach, Nicholson is enormously encouraged by Chambers' success.

"What's been so great about Kasey's success is that she has crossed over to the mainstream without being vilified – her credibility has stayed firmly intact."

So is it easier for women to pull off the crossover and remain cool?

"If you're an underground male artist you are really not supposed to look like you're trying too hard, and girls might have a bit more leeway there.

"They're supposed to wear make-up and dress up and look good in video clips. But then again – there's a lot more pressure on girls to be sex objects, so it's hard to say who gets a better deal."

But photo shoots and chart positions are not factors Nicholson focuses on.

"As long as my album does well enough for me to make another one, and another one after that, I'll be happy – whether people think I'm cool or not."

Those looks can't hurt
IF YOU are going to be a radio-friendly singer-songwriter it can't hurt to look like Charlton Hill. He cuts a striking figure striding towards me in an eastern suburbs restaurant in Sydney.

He's easily more than 1.82m, with perfectly-in-place features, penetrating dark-green eyes and thick black hair, which is over-styled to look unstyled.

The sophisticated production atmosphere of Hill's melodic singles Two's Company and Deep already have opened the door to commercial radio and top 20 chart positions.

The 27-year-old admits that treading the line of singer-songwriter credibility and blatant pop star hasn't necessarily been easy.

"On one hand, you don't want to have your head so far up your own arse that you don't do the things you know will get your music heard but, on the other hand, you're constantly asking yourself, 'Am I going too far with this? Is this going to actually do more harm than good?' "

At 15, he did a 10-month stint on the hit soapie Home and Away and was offered (and promptly rejected) a lucrative three-year contract to continue as one of the program's central characters.

"I knew, in the long run, I'd be better off going back to school and quietly working away on my music," he says.

It wasn't that soapie fame didn't have its advantages. "All of a sudden, instead of having to approach girls, they actually came up to you. It was mind-blowing," Hill says.

But even at 16, Hill had other priorities. Apart from being a keen surfer, he was playing bass for a Sydney northern beaches band and wanted to graduate from the University of New South Wales with an degree in economics.

"Around that time, my parents' house accidentally burned down. That's when I realised that the material things in life don't last and didn't mean that much to me. From that point on, I knew I was going to make my career in music," he says.

Hill's debut album, Waterline, tracks the years he spent trying to break into the London music scene.

His overseas experiences became songs – some of which have been used in pivotal romantic scenes on television programs such as The Secret Life of Us and the hit US supernatural soap Charmed.

So what does he think about the onslaught of female singer-songwriters on the music scene?

"I think it's great that women are getting a stronger and stronger voice in this industry," he says enthusiastically, "particularly because it's across all the musical genres and not just pure pop. Music should represent every different demographic."

Does he think there is less pressure on women to be "cool"?

"They probably have a lot more room to move as far as their image and appearance is concerned," he says.

"Female singers are almost expected to constantly reinvent themselves, so if a girl wants to have red hair for a couple of months, no one really blinks an eye – that's just so and so going through a red hair stage. If a guy does it, it's more likely to be, 'check out this tosser'. "

Flashing the torso
FIVE minutes into my conversation with Jeremy Gregory, I realise that he thinks he's the coolest person on the planet. Sitting opposite the 21-year-old South African-born singer, I get the feeling he thinks he is doing me a favour.

With his smooth caramel skin, dreadlocks and rock-star sunglasses, Gregory looks like a much taller version of Lenny Kravitz (he's 1.88m).

His first single That's What's Going Down is a harmonious marriage of R&B, reggae, funk and soul.

Gregory co-wrote the song and confidently exposes his greased-down torso for much of the song's video clip.

"It's just a fact that talented people who are good-looking are going to get opportunities in this business long before talented people who aren't," he says.

He also makes no attempt to underplay his ambitions.

"I want as many people to hear my music as possible," he says with trademark arrogance, "I'd love to have a No. 1 single around the world – wouldn't everyone?"

I suggest that I have met artists who don't ever plan to have a No. 1 single around the world.

"I think you'll find they're lying," he says.

Gregory was born in Durban, South Africa, and moved to Perth with his family when he was eight.

Raised on gospel music – "my parents wouldn't let us listen to anything else" – he didn't discover pop or R&B until his early teens, but was immediately hooked.

He came to the attention of Disco Montego brothers Dennis and Darren Dowlut, and then moved to Sydney to begin working with them on his debut album.

Needless to say, Gregory isn't at all intimidated by the chick phenomenon.

"The industry just goes through stages and right now girls are more popular," he says.

''I don't see that as having anything to do with my success. Besides – I'd rather look at girls too."

Get me out of here.

Charming lads
PICTURE this – four good-looking boys aged between 19 and 24 who love to sing get together, secure a manager and chase down a record contract.

Within a year, they release a meaningless pop song you can't get out of your head for days.

Sound familiar? When I turned up at a sandy beach south of Salamander Bay to watch up-and-coming vocal group Mercury 4 shoot the video for their first single Get Me Some, I was expecting to spend the day (and night) being bored and patronising. I ended up laughing myself stupid and wishing I was 16 again.

While Mercury 4 has all the clichéd ingredients of your garden-variety boy band, they have a few other things – such as genuine talent and entertaining personalities.

The lead vocalist is 23-year-old Cole, a former member of the Victorian schoolboys choir and keen golfer (his handicap is an impressive four).

Prior to Mercury 4, Cole performed with Melbourne-based vocal groups, was a part-time actor and sang on dog food commercials.

(The other three members mercilessly make dog noises as Cole explains that experience).

Rien, 20, is the funniest member of the group. His impersonation of Kath and Kim and a very drunk ballerina trying to disco-dance is unforgettable.

Brad, 19, is the prettiest and therefore most dangerous – don't let the angelic features and introverted manner fool you. It was while Brad and Rien were in a studio recording a backing track for a charity performance that they bumped into Cole.

Brad threw in his job at an advertising agency, Rien gave up work at his father's blasting company and the trio began auditioning for a fourth member. That's how they found the explosively Hispanic Jarvier.

Raised by a Nicaraguan father and Uruguayan mother in Perth, 21-year-old Jarvier has the confidence of a guy who's been a pop star all his life.

Not surprisingly, that's almost how long he's been preparing for it. He spent his early teens training with The Johnny Young Talent School and has been singing and performing in pop groups since.

Jarvier headed for Melbourne almost two years ago. Two days after his arrival, he was in a St Kilda cafe when he overhead two girls – whom he describes as "hotties" – talking about an audition for an all-male vocal group.

One of the girls called her boyfriend to give him the agent's phone number. Two days later, he was standing in front of Rien, Cole and Brad.

"He sang a ballad first and we could tell he had a good voice," adds Rien, "but it was when he broke into the rap that we were totally hooked."

The rest – hopes their record company – will be pop history. While watching the group test four tracks from their upcoming album at several high schools across Sydney, I am awed by the hysterical reaction of the female students.

Even the waif-like, too-cool-for-school models who appear in the group's clip, (mainly by prancing around in no-imagination-required bikinis) had completely succumbed to their charms by the end of the two-day shoot.

As far as the "cool" factor is concerned, Mercury 4 are under no illusions that the type of product they are peddling can be the target of vilification.

"We're not trying to be anything we're not," Rien says, "We're just four guys who can sing and love pop music."

While Charlton Hill, Shane Nicholson, Jeremy Gregory and Mercury 4 could not be travelling down more diverse musical or promotional paths, they are destined to keep the Y chromosome alive and well on the Australian music scene for some time to come.

- angela pulvirenti

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