The middlemen

Jordan Ireland (left) of Australian band The Middle East talks about growing up in an army town, the downsides of the internet…

Jordan Ireland (left) of Australian band The Middle Easttalks about growing up in an army town, the downsides of the internet and the perils of whistling with TONY CLAYTON-LEA

Where are you?I'm in Manhattan – my first time here. I'm from a small town in the northeast of Australia, a place called, funnily enough, Townsville. It's subtropical. A big army town. By comparison, Manhattan is pretty overwhelming – we don't have anything like it in Australia. It's a nice place to see, but I don't think I'd like to live here. A bit of novelty, I suppose.

What's it like being a civilian in a town that depends on the armed forces for a good percentage of its economy?I don't know too much else, but I think it's a large contributor to why some people play so much music. There isn't a whole lot else going on, as far as going out and hitting the nightlife.

Joining up?I think I'm opposed to the armed forces, even though it's a nice idea fighting alongside your brothers. That's romanticised, of course, yet I like to think about it sometimes. Still opposed to the army, though.

READ MORE

There isn't too much of the band online. That's unusual. Do you think there's often too much online taste-making opinion on the band, and that you'd rather let people find out for themselves by seeing you live?Definitely. As soon as it becomes clear that some sort of band entity is being pushed to the point of the focus shifting to making money, then people can start to see that quite clearly. You know – when it's less about the music and more about the commercial side of things. There's a definite line that I don't want to cross.

Might there come a point when you'll have to reconsider your position?It's always a tad ambiguous, isn't it? To play music you more or less have to engage with the industry. I guess that's what managers are for – they're good at handling those sorts of things to enable the musicians to make and play the music they want to write. As a person, though, I really don't want money to spoil things. Ideally, I'd like it very much if people just listen to the music and take what they want to take from it. I'm not going to try and write a million-dollar riff, or anything like that.

What were your early ambitions?We started as a university band over the break one Christmas, and we played, practised, got some lousy songs together and kept going. It started being about playing music together and having fun with your friends. And ditching the lousy songs along the way.

When did the lousy songs stop and the good ones start?Well, that's a perpetual feeling, isn't it? There's a healthy sense in the band of wanting to get better all the time and to write different kinds of music. For me, I look at it in a positive light of always trying to do something fresh and not sticking to the formula too much. It can be depressing for us all when you start cursing the songs and saying how bad we are.

Do you have a good sense of your own quality control?I wouldn't know if I have that, but what I'm aiming for is being able to discern the bad from the good.

There is whistling in a couple of your songs. When you're on stage does it ever get embarrassing if there's an off-key moment?I'm not the one who does the whistling, but I don't think the person who does it gets embarrassed. I agree that getting the pitch correct is tricky, which is why I'm not the one who does it.

You've never been to Ireland before – what are your perceptions or notions of it?I see it in a very jolly, merry, frivolous light. I know this is a stereotype, but I imagine everyone is a bit tipsy, the landscape is all green, and there are pan flutes playing in the background. Lots of chat, too. Am I close?


The Middle East play Dublin’s Sugar Club tomorrow, and the Hot Press stage at Oxegen on Sunday, July 11