The Empty Threats: Something To Say

The Empty Threats aren’t scared to tell you how they really feel. Ahead of their debut album, Monster Truck Mondays, the band talks politics, upsetting Jimmy Barnes fans and ‘the Adelaide sound’.

Words Zara Richards // Nick Astanei

“An album as an Adelaide band feels like a big deal,” says The Empty Threats guitarist, Matt Schultz. We’re sitting in the back of the Grace Emily beer garden alongside fellow band members, singer Stu Patterson and bassist Lenny Regione, discussing the imminent drop of their debut album, Monster Truck Mondays.

“It’s exciting,” says Matt. “It feels like it’s been a long time working on it.”

Since 2017, the queer post-punk quintet has been carving out space in Adelaide’s music scene with their fervent live performances and distinct blend of ’80s Australiana and loud noise-rock. Successful singles, EPs, sold-out gigs and national tours have followed their debut. But when it came to their first LP, it took the band two years to figure out exactly what they wanted to say and how they’d like to say it.

“I feel like it’s a good snapshot of where we were as a band and where we were as people,” says Stu. “[There was] a lot to write about and speak about.”

The writing process for the album began in 2021 amidst a period of intense social upheaval during the global pandemic and, as Stu puts it, “everything in the world blowing up.” Global events, coupled with the band’s beliefs and lived experiences, form the basis of the ten-track record. In 37 minutes, Monster Truck Mondays navigates colonialism, capitalism, body autonomy, greed and love through a series of urgent, whip-smart songs that feel like an honest reflection of Australia’s cultural climate.

“We wanted it to be as politically charged as possible,” says Stu. “We talk about some quite serious topics. [It’s] more in your face as well. I find it easy to sing about something when there’s a strong topic and you feel quite powerful about it.”

‘Boy in the Gutter’ was one such song. Written following the shock overturning of Roe v Wade in the United States, Stu channelled their anger into a punchy two-minute track that outlines the systemic issues that led to the removal of bodily autonomy. “‘It was Roe v Wade, god’s gracious gift / Brought down by a nation, to breed more kids to enlist’,” Stu deadpans a minute into the track before fellow band member, Venus, breaks out in a blood-curdling scream.

As the album progresses, dulcet tones and woozy vocals wrap around heavy topics, like the impact of colonialism on First Nations people examined in ‘Dear Sunshine’. The band says the track was written when “ScoMo was doing all the classic ScoMo things,” and describes the vibe as “quite sarcastic and ‘sideways smile’”.

Towards the end of the song, it unravels into an enjoyable mess of angry rock noise before arriving at ‘National Treasure’ – a cacophony of clarinet and distorted sound that follows the tune of the national anthem. “[We] just made it sound really trashed,” Matt says. “It’s a big reflection of how we saw the government at the time.”

“We’re still very far from a perfect government,” chimes Stu. “But I suppose anybody is better than ScoMo and Mr Onion Eating Man.”

But the rest of the record isn’t just anger and anguish directed at the world we currently find ourselves in. It also explores how we handle infatuation, losing love and coming to terms with our mortality. On Monster Truck Mondays’ concluding track, ‘Sunday Night’, the band intimately explores the feeling of connection.

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Despite the track’s innocent meaning, the song was originally about a BDSM love affair with Jesus. However, it was drummer Michael Bond’s mum who helped give the record’s message clarity.

“Michael’s mum is a priest,” says Stu. “She came to us after [a] set and said that ‘Sunday Night’ was her favourite song. She didn’t realise what it was about – she still doesn’t know what the song was originally about. But it was really cute. She said what she got from it was a closeness that doesn’t necessarily need to be from a relationship.” Her comments made Stu dig deeper into exploring that feeling.

“But I’m glad we kept the original chorus for the BDSM Jesus: ‘Sunday night, Sunday night is the time for Christ /Alright, kiss me goodnight,’” they say. “That’s my favourite bit of the album.”

Arriving at a complete body of work is a major milestone for The Empty Threats, who’ve quickly become one of the state’s most exciting live acts. There are few bands who can command attention like the five-piece. Stu is evercompelling at the front of the stage, contorting their body in a series of spiky movements and reminiscent of Iggy Pop, while the other members can often be seen losing themselves in their instruments. “I think we’ve always enjoyed being an exciting live band,” says Matt.

“At the end of the day, you’re entertaining,” adds Stu. “You’re like a jester in a mediaeval court. People either hate us or they love us [and] that’s a good thing because it means you’re doing something right if there are polar opposites.”

Last year, the band had first-hand – somewhat brutal – experience of this. They opened for Noiseworks and Jimmy Barnes at last year’s VALO Adelaide 500. It was the biggest crowd they’d ever performed for – 25,000 revved-up motorheads chomping at the bit to see Barnesy rip through the best bits of his illustrious career.

“We all rocked up in pink crop tops and very flamboyant stuff,” says Stu. “Half of the crowd despised us.

“The best thing about that gig was all the hate mail we got afterwards on Facebook. They really went hard, saying we were the worst band they’d ever seen! There was one guy – and I really liked his comment – who said, ‘I love alternative rock. I’ve even got it tattooed. But this is just not it’.”

While those with a penchant for V8-powered supercars might not appreciate the performance art of The Empty Threats, the national music scene is starting to cotton on. The band are touring the east coast to celebrate Monster Truck Mondays this August before playing BIGSOUND and Yours & Owls Festival in Wollongong the following month.

Despite now playing semi-regularly on the eastern seaboard, the Empties say Adelaide is still the place where they want to make music for now. All five members lend their talents to other bands like Twine, SourSob and Sines, and credit their distinct noise to their involvement in the local scene. The band had more of a psych-rock lean when they started in 2017, and Stu says it wasn’t until they joined Placement that the outfit started exploring its signature post-punk sound. “It opened our minds. Now, I feel like there’s this really strong post-punk, noise-rock initiative happening in Adelaide. A lot of influence comes from that.”

“I think a lot of UK stuff… bleeds into the Adelaide sound as well,” adds Matt. “[After] travelling around, you can hear it when you come home. There’s a sound and quality here that you can’t quite get anywhere else.”

Stu agrees. “[As we] tour interstate, we’re getting comments from people saying, ‘Oh yeah, that Adelaide sound’. There’s a sound that this scene produces that is unique, [one] which has come from many years of bands giving the baton over. It doesn’t just appear. It’s an ecosystem.”

And despite having dreams to take the Empties to Europe, the three confess they’re stubborn to leave a scene they feel deserves much more recognition nationally.

“I don’t think we’ve had our time since Cold Chisel,” says Stu. “We’re still known as this pub rock state, and we’re so much bigger than that. There’s a lot of talent [here]. I think it’s time for Adelaide to take the stage.”

See The Empty Threats at Jive this August 26. Listen to Monster Truck Mondays on your favourite streaming platform now.

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