Auckland band the Tutts took time off from their hard partying (sort of) to make their debut album. SCOTT KARA visits them at home
KEY POINTS:
It must be the Tutts' house. There's a recycling bin on the verandah overflowing with beer and wine bottles and answering the door on this sunny Wednesday afternoon is shaggy-haired singer Scott Allen who's got a Steinie in one hand and a ciggy in the other.
These guys, by reputation at least, like to party. And make synth-soaked rock'n'roll for the dancefloor to back it up - you might remember the catchy, arse-shaking guitar riff of K from a few years back?
Walking into the lounge of Tutts central, where a giant TV takes pride of place ("That's not a TV, that's a computer as well," says Allen), guitarist Mat Robertson, an easy-going chap with a far scruffier mop than Allen's, shakes hands and asks if I fancy a beer.
A friend of the band's is about to leave following a heated debate over the upcoming election. Left-leaning Allen farewells him with a cheeky "Sieg heil", explaining later that the mate is a doctor who will be voting National.
Robertson is undecided which way he's going to vote but likes the idea of tougher sentences.
"He's for the death penalty," offers Allen wryly.
"I'm not," scoffs Robertson, before launching into a loose strategy about how two strikes and you're out for tough crimes is fair and ecstasy dealers should not be dealt with in the same way as rapists.
But we're not here to talk politics. We're at the pair's Arch Hill flat, which they share with the Tutts' other guitarist Dan McLaughlin, to talk about the Auckland band's debut album Get In the Club. It's been a long time coming and since K was released two years ago you could be forgiven for forgetting about the Tutts.
There's been hardly a peep out of them. However, a number of things happened. Firstly, and despite those bottles on the verandah, they've have been partying far less and made the decision to break away from the social scene that had built up around them and bands like Motocade.
"We partied heaps," says Robertson, "because we had a little bit of recognition and we lived in a place which just happened to be the place where everyone went. It was cool being part of it but we didn't really want to be cool guys because we thought, 'Let's try and do an album first'. So we just stopped going out."
"It was two-part," reasons Allen. "It was needing to knuckle down and concentrate on the music and getting the album done as well as being pretty disgusted with the general nightlife and vibe at the time that was getting a bit old."
Following K's success, which included being nominated for single of the year at the NZ Music Awards, they had an album deal ready to go but the band baulked when they were "politely asked to make an album of 10 Ks".
Robertson: "And we just thought it would be rushed out and it wouldn't be ..."
" ... up to standard," adds Allen.
So they took time out to record the album in their own time and how they wanted.
Plus, Allen also saw K as a "sideways discretion" for the band because he had no idea where the poppy, upbeat song had come from.
"It's not our natural way of writing because we're a bit more groove and dance orientated rather than straight pop," he says.
In fact, it was dance music that the pair heard out at clubs which first cemented their musical vision and, as the album title suggests, this influence comes through on Get In The Club.
"We'd be sitting at the back of a club, munting out, and hearing [he does his best oonst oonst sound] and be going, here it comes, here it comes..." says Allen.
"And in the morning," continues Robertson, "everybody would be walking around [he does his best gurning impression] and we'd be playing guitar, and they would be like, 'What are those dudes doing playing guitar, man, that's not cool, you gotta DJ'."
But what they couldn't fathom at the time was why people went to clubs to "dance their arse off to really run-of-the-mill producer made crap".
"So we formed the idea that we wanted to make dancey real music," he says.
And the results are songs like camp chugger Seven and sashaying synth rock anthem Whiteout, which at times wouldn't sound out of place in those clubs Robertson and Allen were gurning at a few years earlier.
Elsewhere the album's first two tracks, Western Zeal and Grow Up, are heavy and menacing and make a clear statement.
"We definitely wanted people to know that we had a different sound and we tried to keep it dancey throughout the album but it's also moody," says Robertson.
"What ended up happening with the album," continues Allen, "is it starts off and shocks you with these kind of darker, harder songs and then slips back into a K-type put on your dance shoes".
The heaviness also has a lot to do with the influence of producer Nick Roughan, a former member of late 80s/early 90s band the Skeptics who has worked with Shihad, Dimmer, and Headless Chickens.
"We were the pussy guys, and just to keep it on even terms he'd keep it harder," laughs Robertson.
"If anyone thought they were going to get an album full of Ks maybe they'll be disappointed - but hopefully they'll like the other stuff."
LOWDOWN
Who: The Tutts
Debut album: Get In The Club, out now
Playing: Vesbar, Auckland, today, 8pm; Zen Bar, Auckland Oct 31, 8pm; Flow, Hamilton, Nov 15, 8pm.
