The Subways

Thu 26th Feb, 2009 in Features

“I don’t drink before or after I go on stage, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs. Sure, I scream, but it’s like an organised chaos, y’know?” The Subways main man Billy Lunn is revealing the finer points of how one manages to roar the place down after a particularly nasty bout of surgery for polyps two years ago.

For the uninitiated, a polyp is essentially a blister on one’s vocal chords, and that is exactly as painful as it sounds. Post-op, Billy couldn’t sing, let alone scream for about two months, resulting in a lengthy period of introspection during which most of the lyrics for All Or Nothing were written. Nowadays, Lunn rehearses some harmonies before going on stage to scream the place down. “There are actually certain techniques to it which enable you to do it night after night without harming your voice.”

It wasn’t always like this. In fact, Billy’s grateful to have the chance to tour the world again, because the first time, he was so wasted that he couldn’t remember a lot of his shows. “It’s sort of a sense of renewal…Charlotte [bass player] actually got fed up of telling me what hotel we were in and which city we were in at that particular time.” As such, Lunn’s made a point of taking pictures, updating blogs and staying on the straight and narrow so he has some legitimate memories of Australia this time around. “It’s always usually the important shit that I don’t remember, and the incidental shit that I do.”

One thing Billy does recall is the huge two and a half year slog that The Subways did in support of their breakout debut Young For Eternity, during which they got to play support for one of Lunn’s inspirations, Dave Grohl’s Foo Fighters. Quite a legendary screamer in his own right, the Foo frontman apparently offered little advice except for the warning that all support bands should stay away from his constructed 30 ft. ramp. “About three songs in, I thought, – œFuck it. In front 70 000 people, I’m diving off that god damn ramp!’”

What followed was Billy putting down his guitar and sneaking back to the dressing room, hoping Dave wouldn’t catch him. “I pulled the door handle and behind me I heard – œSubway Motherfucker!’ I turned around and I see Dave bounding down the hallway, and he’s quite a well-built chap…I sort of winced and thought, – œHere it comes, I’m going to get punched by Dave Grohl!’” Of course, Grohl is renowned for being the nicest guy in rock music, a title he lived up to in this instance. “He gave me this huge bear hug and said, – œThat set was fucking awesome. But don’t ever go on my ramp again!’”

But then, The Subways are not a band who usually plays by the rules. Bass player Charlotte Cooper gave up her classical woodwind training to play punk, Billy didn’t even play an instrument when he met her, and rather it was his drummer brother Josh who started the ball rolling. “Charlotte was hanging around looking really, really bored, so we handed her the bass and that was it.”

With huge tours and appearances The OC (where they played the infamous Bait Shop early in the series) the group made a name for themselves with their hyperactive, raucous performances, most of which involved Billy and Charlotte running around like absolute lunatics. “Yeah, we usually spend the first five minutes of a set hyping up by jumping backwards of the drum kit and whatever,” Lunn confesses cheekily. “But sometimes when you jump a bit too high, you land and temporarily forget where you are.”

Their recent spate of Soundwaves shows has been no exception. “We had a bit of a false start in Brisbane, where I forgot how bloody humid it was. After about three songs I was gasping. But since then the crowd have been getting really into it…we know we’ve done a good show when everybody’s screaming and sweaty.”

Screaming and sweaty is what Billy is on stage most of the time, to the extent that he and Josh have just stopped wearing shirts, period. “It’s like, I’ll jump into the crowd and someone will rip my clothes off, and Josh sweats so much that his T-shirts are completely unwearable afterwards.” Conversely, Charlotte “makes an art out of getting dressed for a gig,” remaining cool and collected in the midst of the testosterone mayhem around her. When suggested that he should patent a form of Velcro singlet that just comes straight off without ripping, Billy laughs in agreement. “That would be a good concept. You should patent that.”

Of course, the big question surrounding the Subways, and their new, Butch Vig-produced mega-album, is what happened between Billy and former lover Charlotte, of whom he not only speaks highly of but remains in a band with. “If anything, All Or Nothing is a celebration of what we went through and how we care for each other still. We can be in the same room and not kill each other because we’re a writing partnership…even on the day we broke up nothing was going to get in the way of this band or our love for music.”

This is a highly mature approach, considering Axl can’t even get in a room with Slash twenty years down the line. “Well, you know when you get to that point where you have beautiful women and huge houses and nice cars, everyone’s saying – œyes’ to you, so you just think – œFuck it.’ We’re not like that; we like to think of ourselves as pretty nice people.”

Even Dave Grohl won’t dispute that. With broken hearts and broken shirts, The Subways are just getting started.

The Subways continue their Soundwave tour of duty this weekend.