23 September 2022 – album review by Jeremy Bean-Hodges
Big Scary’s new album Me and You is, at heart, an album about all kinds of relationships – and a celebration of the yin and yang of two people moving together. It makes sense; Big Scary is a duo of multi-instrumentalist Tom Iansek and percussionist Jo Symes, and over time they have drifted in and out of each other’s musical orbits as they focus on other projects within their co-founded music label. Iansek has been heavily involved in some of the beautiful writing and production on show for Maple Glider’s recent release, while Syme has overseen the setup of a recent label imprint.
Big Scary – despite the name – makes delicate, kooky, introverted music. They eschew pop’s usual wall-of-sound in favour of a style which is more stark and isolated, and as a result, they have a distinctive style that stands alone from other Australian pop acts. Whether it’s the thumping, funky bass from Get Out! (2021), or the lonely piano hook from The Opposite of Us (2016), Big Scary always show courage in letting their best instruments stand naked and unashamed in the mix.
Me and You constantly strives for beauty and tenderness, and while it’s slightly uneven in parts, when it does all come together, it’s hugely warm and affecting. The upbeat disco-esque tunes of last year’s Daisy are gone; in their place is the muted touch of piano and strings. There’s a sense of maturity and calm that has pervaded this most recent release.
The vocal contributions between Iansek and Syme are far more equitably distributed than in previous efforts. Syme was previously fenced into backing vocals; hers is a more earthy, unburnished kind of voice, whereas Iansek has a beautifully delicate register. For the first half of Me and You, they struggle to find a way to make the pairing really work; after Syme takes lead vocals on opening tune ‘F.A.’ (which stands for exactly what you think it does), it’s a shock to flow straight into Iansek’s plaintive, pitch-perfect falsetto on ‘Firefly’, rather like dunking a hot hand into iced water.
It takes until the fifth song, ‘Lonely Age’, for the duo to find a sweet spot for them both in a gorgeous duet. The melody is a standout, the arrangement is unobtrusive – it’s Big Scary at their understated best. From there, Me and You hits its straps; ‘Devotion’ conveys the emotional instability of the initial, heady rush of new love, ‘In My View’ finds Iansek channeling Jeff Buckley with no more than a piano to anchor the song. But the real hero song is the first single, ‘Real Love’.
‘Real Love’ is a standout not just in this album, but in this whole year. It’s gentle, it’s nuanced, and it’s beautiful. The meaning of ‘Real Love’ is slightly ambiguous, but I interpret it as a paean to the validity of different types of love that exist beyond romantic partnerships. More specifically, I suspect that it is a beautiful testament to the relationship between the two halves of Big Scary, as per the central tenet of this whole album. Centred on a pensive, leisured piano progression, it swells with the aid of strings and choir – a live version with Big Scary’s labelmates comes highly recommended.
With the exception of ‘Real Love’, whose talents are evident from the first ten seconds, Me and You is very much an album that sits with the listener rather than putting its assets up in flashing lights. I think that suits Big Scary just fine; despite the name, Me and You is little, and friendly, and lovely.
Me and You is out 23 September 2022.
