Words – @killer.solo.music
Bunnings sausages, broken bodies, philosophical death metal and seven-and-a-half new songs. Killer sits down with Pat and Hemi from Nembutolik and discovers that Frankston might actually be beyond saving.
There are certain things in life you should never do. Lick a public toilet seat. Trust a fart after a vindaloo. Ask a bloke from Frankston what happened last Saturday night.
And apparently, interviewing Nembutolik belongs on that list.
I was asked to have a chat with vocalist Pat and guitarist Hemi. Simple enough. Two musicians, a few questions, perhaps some insightful discussion about the Australian heavy music scene. Maybe even a little journalism.
What followed was the conversational equivalent of a stolen Ford Falcon crashing through a Bunnings sausage sizzle while Albert Camus watched from the passenger seat.
Welcome to Frankston, motherfuckers.
The Bunnings Sausage Economy
It turns out that life in an underground death metal band isn’t all glamour, groupies and cocaine off the bonnet of a Commodore.
Mostly, it’s working your arse off to afford the privilege of spending every remaining cent on merch, recording and getting yourself to the next show.
As the boys explained, the financial reward for playing heavy metal is occasionally being able to afford fast food.
Pat had sardines on toast for breakfast. I had recently celebrated finding enough loose change for a Bunnings sausage.
For a brief, beautiful moment, three grown men bonded over processed meat and economic despair.
Somewhere, a financial adviser burst into flames.
Naturally, this led to discussions about creating a video game involving drunkenly packing a tour vehicle, followed by increasingly questionable ideas about driving.
We were barely into the interview.
Frankston: Where the Mosh Pit Has a Criminal Record
The conversation eventually found its way to the Frankston heavy music scene, which, judging by the stories, operates somewhere between a thriving cultural movement and a workplace health and safety investigation.
The boys spoke enthusiastically about the all-ages scene and the young punters who throw themselves into practically anything with an amplifier.
There’s genuine affection for the community. And plenty of evidence that nobody involved has ever read a safety manual.
Pat recalled being struck with a can of Hard Solo at an Algor Mortis show. Another story involved a particularly enthusiastic individual continuing to dance after being removed from a venue.
No music. No audience. Just one bloke refusing to let the party die.
Honestly, that’s the sort of dedication I respect.
Then came the banana suit……..
After absolutely destroying his sciatic nerve, Hemi somehow ended up back onstage at the next gig, held together by duct tape, questionable medical decisions and sheer fucking stubbornness.
While wearing a banana costume.
Attached to a trestle table.
At this point, I stopped being an interviewer. I imagine this is how an exorcist feels moments before the ritual, when he realises the demon isn’t fucking leaving.
Death Metal, Existentialism and Other Healthy Hobbies
But here’s where things got genuinely interesting.
Pat, it turns out, is a pretty deep thinker. He’s got a genuine interest in philosophy, absurdism and the darker corners of the human condition.
And while death metal has never been short of bands writing about imaginary horrors, Pat’s lyrics come from somewhere much more real. As he explained, they deal with “horrible experiences and things that happen to human beings in real life.” He just prefers to wrap those experiences in metaphor rather than spell everything out.
Before I knew it, we were talking about Albert Camus, existential philosophy and how absurdism can actually help you make sense of your own mental health.
How the fuck did we get here?
Ten minutes earlier, we’d been talking about Bunnings sausages and bananas stuck to walls with duct tape. Now we’re contemplating the absurdity of human existence.
And somehow, none of it felt out of place.
That’s the thing about Nembutolik. For all the ridiculous stories, questionable decisions and general fuckery, there’s a bunch of blokes underneath it all who genuinely give a shit about their music and the people around them.
We also got into Necrosonic, the joys and occasional nightmares of touring, and the wonderfully dysfunctional little world that is Australian underground metal.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Seven and a Half Reasons to Be Concerned
And somewhere among the madness, the boys casually revealed they’re heading back into the studio.
How much new material?
Seven and a half songs written.
Not seven. Not eight.
Seven and a fucking half.
Apparently, the remaining half is still being assembled from whatever dangerous substances are leaking out of the groundwater.
The band haven’t made a formal announcement about the material, but the creative machinery is clearly moving.
Which means more Nembutolik is coming.
God help us all.
The Verdict
I went into this interview expecting chaos.
I got chaos.
But I also got a reminder of why I love talking to musicians in the first place.
Behind the absurdity, the ridiculous tour stories and the complete disregard for conventional interview etiquette are two blokes who genuinely love heavy music and the community around it.
Nembutolik aren’t just a collection of outrageous stories held together with gaffer tape. There’s substance beneath the madness, and it’s worth hearing.
So grab a Bunnings sausage, keep your limbs inside the vehicle, and join us for a conversation that probably should have required a signed waiver.
The full interview with Pat and Hemi is on KillerTube Australia.
This is the gospel.
I bite crowd surfers.
– Killer.
