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The Roots drummer then shared a link to that song with his millions of followers with a note: “Once in a blue moon, something moves me so much I’m willing to alienate friends when an undeniable project comes along… THIS is that project.” Animal Collective and Dirty Projectors – the US art-pop bands du jour at the time – heard Hiatus Kaiyote’s spine-tingling ballad, ‘Nakamarra’, and passed the tune to Questlove. “A Valiant is like a Kingswood, a trashy Aussie car… It’s a flex because it’s really daggy” – Nai Palm
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We’re trying to get to that moment where people are overwhelmed in joy, in confusion, in sadness, or in the magnitude of emotion or disbelief.”
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Mavin explained at the time: “That’s what we’re always aiming for as a group. Looking to stand out, Hiatus Kaiyote and their manager Si Jay Gould coined the genre “wondercore” to describe their heady blend of restless jazz, bohemian funk and new-school R&B. It’s a cherished piece of local Melbourne culture”. He sold “stacks of copies of ‘Tawk Tomahawk’ – I needed those boxes immediately.
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“It’s Australia’s most important soul record,” says Northside Records’ boss Chris Gill, whose shop is also on Gertrude St. The following year, they self-released their debut album, ‘Tawk Tomahawk’. Moss and Mavin joined them for a jam shortly afterwards and Hiatus Kaiyote were born in 2011. He didn’t see her for another year, then the two bumped into each other and became buddies. “I knew it was the kind of music I wanted to be involved in – complex yet beautiful and logical.” “It was one of her first-ever solo gigs, but straight away I was amazed by her voice and songs,” Bender says over email afterward. Bender caught Saalfield doing a solo show at now-defunct Fitzroy nightspot Gertrude’s Brown Couch. Hiatus Kaiyote have been a tight-knit gang for a decade now. Photography by Claudia Sangiorgi Dalimore Hiatus Kaiyote on the cover of NME Australia #19. The quartet laugh easily at each other’s wisecracks, surreptitiously show each other pictures on their smartphones and allow the loquacious Saalfield to field most questions about their third album, ‘Mood Valiant’ – certainly more relaxed than when they arrived in Brazil not knowing whether The Arthur Experiment was going to be a success. I made a rap album,” he grins, referring to the Bandcamp release he titled ‘Middle Aged Caucasian Existential Debut Record’. “I was the only one who lost their mind during lockdown. Beanie-wearing synth player Simon Mavin (also of The Putbacks) blows impressive smoke-rings and carries himself with a Best Supporting Actor charisma.īender, who is introduced by the band’s manager as “the one with the fisherman’s beard”, is happy to make himself the butt of band jokes. Speaking to NME via Zoom, the group are sitting around a sun-kissed kitchen table covered in smoking paraphernalia, takeaway coffee cups, a guitar pedal, black nail polish and a copy of The Saturday Paper.ĭrummer and percussionist Perrin Moss plays with a laptop cord.
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“I’m sketching ‘Crazy Rats For President’,” she declares, apropos of nothing, her hands barely keeping up with her muse. Singer, guitarist and iconoclast Nai Palm (real name Naomi Saalfield) is wearing an outrageous fluffy white headpiece that Jay Kay from Jamiroquai would happily swap for one of his sports cars. “We were like, ‘What does that mean? Is he bailing? What’s happening?’ We were terrified… and then we had to fly over there,” Bender shakes his head.īender and the band are kicking it at his house in Preston, where Hiatus Kaiyote have a studio known affectionately as The Villa. But on the eve of Melbourne jazz-funk shapeshifters Hiatus Kaiyote’s flight to Rio de Janeiro to work on their long-gestating third album, they received that confusingly brief missive from legendary arrangements master Arthur Verocai, who had been called in to help the band level up with his Latin-tinged orchestral touches. Generally, before flying 13,000 kilometres across the world, you want the last message from your overseas host to fill you with confidence. “‘Um, there’s a lot of instruments in this song already, I’m finding it quite hard to arrange anything for it’.” He pauses for a beat. “Right before we left for Brazil he wrote this cryptic email,” splutters Hiatus Kaiyote bassist and cellist Paul Bender.
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