A Profound Chat
When you tell people you are going to put out a newsletter every month there may be a flickering feeling of overcommitment. A sense that you may have bitten off more than you can chew. You might start messaging random people on instagram asking for an interview. One of those people might be @dj_andrew_strumn_golfn_cooln.
This account is not random to you. It belongs to an artist you took note of after hearing their song in “Rage 5”, a monumental surf film put together by renowned filmmaker Toby Cregan. You attended the Melbourne premiere at Lulie’s Tavern which was packed with the city’s sceney-est holiday house surfers, coastal expats and posers. Overwhelmed, you focus on the pull-down projector screen in front of you while glancing over at core Rage team rider, Creed Mctaggart every 10 seconds.
Part after part, you are amazed by the surfing being presented on the pull-down projector screen. You are also captivated by the diverse soundtrack. A new song fades in, scoring a new scene of unhinged surfing. You lean in and listen to the lyrics of this song. You begin to smile. It’s hilarious.
What sounds like an off handed freestyle recorded on iphone memos is cut and stitched into a punchy beat. The off-dome lyrics cover topics such as tradies, ladies, sipping coffee, shadow hands, getting shadow banned, etc. Punctuated by charming fuck-ups in flow and cadence, the freestyle is delivered in a familiarly laid-back nasal drawl.
“I make songs for tradies, I make songs for ladies, ladies and tradies, ladies and tradies hanging out with each other"
The lyrics tread carefully around being a joke, sometimes tumbling, but also managing to be kind of subversive about it. The film credits roll and the name DJ Andrew appears on the screen - “Whole Scene”.
DJ Andrew, though boasting a mainly instrument-based discography, remains ambiguous about his name. Andrew doesn't tend to stay in one bracket for too long, remaining enigmatic about what kind of artist he wants to be. His new album Crying on Birthdays is a purposefully stripped back collection of songs made with his friends about romance, love, family and being sad. It’s sincere and funny.
He responded to my dm, and we organised to meet for a beer at the railway on a Friday night. It eventuated into me, completely sober, being poured a one-kneed trickle of sweet white wine from his mate's goon sack before entering. Andrew himself was civil and kind, donning a T-shirt emblazoned with a full spread print of ex-Carlton player, Charlie Curnow. When I asked about it, he claimed to not know what it meant.
The night was short lived, but we organised to link up again over phone to have a real chat. It was profound. Put some respect on DJ Andrew’s name.
Do you identify as a DJ?
Um, I think I use the term DJ to de-identify from everything else
Is it kind of ironic?
Well I think identity can be a trap, and I think I use something that's clearly not my identity to avoid the trap
Have you DJed before?
Yeah, when I first started music, DJing and electronic music was really the thing at the time it felt like my way to make a living as a musician. It was crazy.
Do you still do it?
Yeah, occasionally, I think the funniest thing for me to do next would be to become an actual DJ.
What's on your USB?
Just like trance music and acid house. Like, aggressive, melodic trance. Anything that's uplifting. I even like psytrace. I've actually been working with a band trying to play songs that are more trance like. It's pretty hard, but we're trying to make it happen.
The other day, your friends were talking about going to one of those Westgate doof things. What do you think about that stuff?
It's worth going for the spectacle once or twice. But I think you realise it's just a glorified drug den and I think drugs without guidance are kind of just dangerous and not healthy or good for anyone.
You basically just get narcissistic DJ’s trying to look cool and they're basically the leaders; Then you have drug addicts who have no kind of spiritual substance to what they're doing so I don't know. I don't really like it that much.
It’s cool to hear producer tags in your music given that a lot of it is acoustic. Do you think producer tags are important?
I think they're important in the context of emo rock or just like rock or pop music. I think it’s important that they appear where they haven't appeared before.
What jobs have you done outside of music?
Really scattered. I did Coles, Deliveroo, Domino's. A lot of delivering food. I worked at Australia Post. I was actually acting logistics officer for like a year which was a really weird turn in my life. And then, I’ve done labouring. Disability support is the main one now.
I think the title of your album, Antistyle, is kind of funny. Could you speak on that?
Yeah at the time I was inspired by graffiti writers who do anti-style and I more just took inspiration from how they view things. Inevitably, you kind of fall out of love with that sort of stuff because it's pretty antisocial I guess. I think there's value to being antisocial, but if you can't work out ways to be cohesive, then, it kind of ends up being self-destructive.
You have a tension between your ideals and reality. People either hold entirely onto their ideals and never face reality, or they think that their ideals are useless because they're not compatible with reality and they give up on them, but if it's not compatible, it just means you need to adapt it and make it stronger.
Do you like the idea of having clout as an artist?
Yeah, but you gotta pick the kind of cloud you want. If you have clout that you don't want, it's torturous. But if you have the clout you want, it's glorious.
Do you feel accepted by the music scene?
Yeah for sure, but I'd much rather rely on bringing my friends up with me, than relying on the masses to generate numbers so that I can be accepted. It's all friends based and… What is it? “A rising tide lifts all boats”, which I think is a thing.
Do you work with your friends a lot?
Yeah, as much as I can. I'd rather just have a clout economy with my friends. We can just make as much clout with each other as we want.
You said you grew up on the Central Coast. What made you move away? And how's it been adjusting to Melbourne?
Well, I moved away because I was pretty depressed, but I didn't really know why at the time. Now when I go back, it's kind of not too hard to tell. Living somewhere with high unemployment and… I guess it’s just boring.
It’s depressing because it's not just you struggling with unemployment and finding things to do, but just the environment of people who are sort of aimless isn't really inspiring. If my values were to have a big ute, and a house, and go to Bali, then I would really froth it. I really love it for them but it's just not exciting for me.
Do you know the Rage guys?
I know some of them. It's more through my older brother.
To say something about him, I think something really cool that kind explains me a little bit, is that, in our small town, I think my brother Matt was like, kind of one of the coolest of the cool and being the younger brother of the coolest of the cool, you never really have to worry that much about being cool or fitting in so you can kind of be a bit weird and get away with it in a way.
I don't have to second guess most of my actions socially and I think that's just kind of enabled the sort of creative freedom. I know that so many people are just constantly doubting their social appearance and where they sit with things. Something that I really try to encourage is that we don't have to worry about that kind of stuff because it feels great to not worry and I want that for everyone.
This question's from my friend Alex. What role do you think humour plays in your music and music in general?
I feel like as humans, we have the ability to understand things well beyond our capacity to affect them and I think humour is a really good way to cope with that gap. My experience with music is that it can kind of reveal the truth to you at times because it can bring you to emotions and stuff like that, but I think taking it too seriously, you can lose yourself in music too much. It can start taking your energy instead of giving you energy.
For me, I think humour and having little tricks in the music is a way of giving myself opportunities to not take it too seriously and never let it take energy from me. It's like having trap doors around so that I can escape if I ever need
Was there any particular music you were listening to when you recorded Crying on Birthdays?
Yeah, I would have been listening to Righteous, by Mo Beats on repeat. It's just like a hip hop beat. There’s not even rapping on it.
What inspired you about that?
Well… Not much, hey. [laughs] I was also listening to Shed by Title Fight. That's kind of an album that both my brothers listen to. Man, that's something that helps me feel connected to them. I don't really take inspiration from the music itself, I take more inspiration from feeling.
What did you do on your birthday?
I think I had some friends over and we played mafia.
Is that a video game?
Nah, it's just like a talking game where a couple of people are secretly made mafia and then each round, someone is murdered. And people just have to talk amongst themselves to try and work out who's mafia and who's not?
I think I've heard of this. At what point did you cry? Sorry, if that's a silly question.
No, I did cry though. Yeah, it was just after I’d done an overnight shift and I was tired and I gave myself a birthday present, which was to be allowed to feel sad about some things.
Wow, that's really nice.
Yeah, I mean, I don't know, I feel like there's a thing in our minds where we can say, oh, there's always someone who's more worthy of sadness. Which is generally true, but emotions aren't about worthiness, you just have them. Most of the time, everyone else is holding their emotions back, so using them as a metric is not really helpful.
This account is not random to you. It belongs to an artist you took note of after hearing their song in “Rage 5”, a monumental surf film put together by renowned filmmaker Toby Cregan. You attended the Melbourne premiere at Lulie’s Tavern which was packed with the city’s sceney-est holiday house surfers, coastal expats and posers. Overwhelmed, you focus on the pull-down projector screen in front of you while glancing over at core Rage team rider, Creed Mctaggart every 10 seconds.
Part after part, you are amazed by the surfing being presented on the pull-down projector screen. You are also captivated by the diverse soundtrack. A new song fades in, scoring a new scene of unhinged surfing. You lean in and listen to the lyrics of this song. You begin to smile. It’s hilarious.
What sounds like an off handed freestyle recorded on iphone memos is cut and stitched into a punchy beat. The off-dome lyrics cover topics such as tradies, ladies, sipping coffee, shadow hands, getting shadow banned, etc. Punctuated by charming fuck-ups in flow and cadence, the freestyle is delivered in a familiarly laid-back nasal drawl.
“I make songs for tradies, I make songs for ladies, ladies and tradies, ladies and tradies hanging out with each other"
The lyrics tread carefully around being a joke, sometimes tumbling, but also managing to be kind of subversive about it. The film credits roll and the name DJ Andrew appears on the screen - “Whole Scene”.
DJ Andrew, though boasting a mainly instrument-based discography, remains ambiguous about his name. Andrew doesn't tend to stay in one bracket for too long, remaining enigmatic about what kind of artist he wants to be. His new album Crying on Birthdays is a purposefully stripped back collection of songs made with his friends about romance, love, family and being sad. It’s sincere and funny.
He responded to my dm, and we organised to meet for a beer at the railway on a Friday night. It eventuated into me, completely sober, being poured a one-kneed trickle of sweet white wine from his mate's goon sack before entering. Andrew himself was civil and kind, donning a T-shirt emblazoned with a full spread print of ex-Carlton player, Charlie Curnow. When I asked about it, he claimed to not know what it meant.
The night was short lived, but we organised to link up again over phone to have a real chat. It was profound. Put some respect on DJ Andrew’s name.
Do you identify as a DJ?
Um, I think I use the term DJ to de-identify from everything else
Is it kind of ironic?
Well I think identity can be a trap, and I think I use something that's clearly not my identity to avoid the trap
Have you DJed before?
Yeah, when I first started music, DJing and electronic music was really the thing at the time it felt like my way to make a living as a musician. It was crazy.
Do you still do it?
Yeah, occasionally, I think the funniest thing for me to do next would be to become an actual DJ.
What's on your USB?
Just like trance music and acid house. Like, aggressive, melodic trance. Anything that's uplifting. I even like psytrace. I've actually been working with a band trying to play songs that are more trance like. It's pretty hard, but we're trying to make it happen.
The other day, your friends were talking about going to one of those Westgate doof things. What do you think about that stuff?
It's worth going for the spectacle once or twice. But I think you realise it's just a glorified drug den and I think drugs without guidance are kind of just dangerous and not healthy or good for anyone.
You basically just get narcissistic DJ’s trying to look cool and they're basically the leaders; Then you have drug addicts who have no kind of spiritual substance to what they're doing so I don't know. I don't really like it that much.
It’s cool to hear producer tags in your music given that a lot of it is acoustic. Do you think producer tags are important?
I think they're important in the context of emo rock or just like rock or pop music. I think it’s important that they appear where they haven't appeared before.
What jobs have you done outside of music?
Really scattered. I did Coles, Deliveroo, Domino's. A lot of delivering food. I worked at Australia Post. I was actually acting logistics officer for like a year which was a really weird turn in my life. And then, I’ve done labouring. Disability support is the main one now.
I think the title of your album, Antistyle, is kind of funny. Could you speak on that?
Yeah at the time I was inspired by graffiti writers who do anti-style and I more just took inspiration from how they view things. Inevitably, you kind of fall out of love with that sort of stuff because it's pretty antisocial I guess. I think there's value to being antisocial, but if you can't work out ways to be cohesive, then, it kind of ends up being self-destructive.
You have a tension between your ideals and reality. People either hold entirely onto their ideals and never face reality, or they think that their ideals are useless because they're not compatible with reality and they give up on them, but if it's not compatible, it just means you need to adapt it and make it stronger.
Do you like the idea of having clout as an artist?
Yeah, but you gotta pick the kind of cloud you want. If you have clout that you don't want, it's torturous. But if you have the clout you want, it's glorious.
Do you feel accepted by the music scene?
Yeah for sure, but I'd much rather rely on bringing my friends up with me, than relying on the masses to generate numbers so that I can be accepted. It's all friends based and… What is it? “A rising tide lifts all boats”, which I think is a thing.
Do you work with your friends a lot?
Yeah, as much as I can. I'd rather just have a clout economy with my friends. We can just make as much clout with each other as we want.
You said you grew up on the Central Coast. What made you move away? And how's it been adjusting to Melbourne?
Well, I moved away because I was pretty depressed, but I didn't really know why at the time. Now when I go back, it's kind of not too hard to tell. Living somewhere with high unemployment and… I guess it’s just boring.
It’s depressing because it's not just you struggling with unemployment and finding things to do, but just the environment of people who are sort of aimless isn't really inspiring. If my values were to have a big ute, and a house, and go to Bali, then I would really froth it. I really love it for them but it's just not exciting for me.
Do you know the Rage guys?
I know some of them. It's more through my older brother.
To say something about him, I think something really cool that kind explains me a little bit, is that, in our small town, I think my brother Matt was like, kind of one of the coolest of the cool and being the younger brother of the coolest of the cool, you never really have to worry that much about being cool or fitting in so you can kind of be a bit weird and get away with it in a way.
I don't have to second guess most of my actions socially and I think that's just kind of enabled the sort of creative freedom. I know that so many people are just constantly doubting their social appearance and where they sit with things. Something that I really try to encourage is that we don't have to worry about that kind of stuff because it feels great to not worry and I want that for everyone.
This question's from my friend Alex. What role do you think humour plays in your music and music in general?
I feel like as humans, we have the ability to understand things well beyond our capacity to affect them and I think humour is a really good way to cope with that gap. My experience with music is that it can kind of reveal the truth to you at times because it can bring you to emotions and stuff like that, but I think taking it too seriously, you can lose yourself in music too much. It can start taking your energy instead of giving you energy.
For me, I think humour and having little tricks in the music is a way of giving myself opportunities to not take it too seriously and never let it take energy from me. It's like having trap doors around so that I can escape if I ever need
Was there any particular music you were listening to when you recorded Crying on Birthdays?
Yeah, I would have been listening to Righteous, by Mo Beats on repeat. It's just like a hip hop beat. There’s not even rapping on it.
What inspired you about that?
Well… Not much, hey. [laughs] I was also listening to Shed by Title Fight. That's kind of an album that both my brothers listen to. Man, that's something that helps me feel connected to them. I don't really take inspiration from the music itself, I take more inspiration from feeling.
What did you do on your birthday?
I think I had some friends over and we played mafia.
Is that a video game?
Nah, it's just like a talking game where a couple of people are secretly made mafia and then each round, someone is murdered. And people just have to talk amongst themselves to try and work out who's mafia and who's not?
I think I've heard of this. At what point did you cry? Sorry, if that's a silly question.
No, I did cry though. Yeah, it was just after I’d done an overnight shift and I was tired and I gave myself a birthday present, which was to be allowed to feel sad about some things.
Wow, that's really nice.
Yeah, I mean, I don't know, I feel like there's a thing in our minds where we can say, oh, there's always someone who's more worthy of sadness. Which is generally true, but emotions aren't about worthiness, you just have them. Most of the time, everyone else is holding their emotions back, so using them as a metric is not really helpful.