Following on from the surfadelic rumble and tumble of their previous single ‘Climbing Clouds’, Empat Lima’s latest cut ‘Don’t Give It Away’ is decidedly calmer and a little more lethargic. Although the mood is a touch lower this time around (the track was partly written and recorded amidst lockdowns after all), ‘Don’t Give It Away’ still comes loaded with character, with the group’s vibrant spark gleaming across the entire track.

Emerging slowly, ‘Don’t Give It Away’ opens up with a rolling groove and a zigzagging bassline, before expanding further with shimmering guitar chords that leave the track feeling simultaneously placid and restless. By the time Steph Brett’s contemplative vocals dreamily drift in, we're lulled into a trance by the track’s mesmerising pulse, as the soundscape continues to unwind around us. First with snaking guitar leads that tangle and meander alongside the persistent rhythm section, before the layers slowly amount with every hypnotic backing vocal and a glowing keyboard solo. By the track’s four minute mark, we’re totally under Empat Lima’s spell, immersed in the kaleidoscope of heady melodies, ebbing rhythms and swirls of colour, before the track fully unravels and fades away.

Even at their most meditative, a trip into Empat Lima’s sonic world is a radiant one, and to journey in a little further, we spoke to each member of the group about what was inspiring them when ‘Don’t Give It Up’ came together.


Plants and spiral thinking

Sooji (bass): At this time, like most people I was doing a lot of gardening to maintain some sanity. Being outside all the time, with the pace of life slowed down I started noticing much more detail - of the resident birds in the backyard, the subtleties of different weather affecting cloud formations, and the slow growth of plants. “Motionless though they may appear to be, plants actually are moving continuously. Most of their movements result from growth… (and) including their roots, describe a spiral as they elongate.” (’The Plants’ by Frits W. Went, 1965 by Time Inc.)

If you’ve ever gone down a google ‘spiral’ wormhole then you know of the powers of spirals. They are everywhere in nature, mathematics and the universe. I think the power of spirals fed into this bassline, a meandering golden spiral that leads infinitely forward, or maybe inside itself to find an answer.

Carla (drums): There are a few tracks which I could probably link back to the influence of ‘Don’t Give It Away’ in terms of the drums. With this track I was exploring a different approach to my playing style, one which was more jazzy and light on the skins. I also started playing around with muting the skins with cloth which I found pleasing, I can never find a sweet spot with tuning my particular floor tom. ‘Say You Love Me Too’ by Johnathan Bree demonstrates this method in their video clip. I heard the song on the radio and then looked them up, was pleasantly entertained by their kooky aesthetic and they’re also from New Zealand! It was really the tone of the bass and drum in the recording that got me in.


Khruangbin

Carla: Another artist who I was listening to around this time was Khruangbin. What I noticed about their drummer is that he is playing all these super funky solid beats but is just so relaxed and light on the drums. When you are a drummer you are not dealing with notes so much, it all comes down to feel and timing. There are so many different ways you can hold your body or vary your intention when hitting the skins. Love this collab they did with Paul McCartney, so dreamy.


Lyric writing in lockdown

Steph (vocals, guitar): I worked in the evenings on this song, once the family was in bed. My guitar plugged straight into the pre-amp in the lounge, into logic-pro, over the bass and drum tracks we’d recorded. We hadn’t seen each other in months, or done a gig, everything was changing. Walking around the backyard, having an occasional cigarette (nothing makes me want to smoke like writing lyrics) I heard the new silence, eerie whisperings of uncertainty, cars and planes had stopped but not helicopters. I thought about Mad Max and Lost Highway, about the city becoming uninhabited, the new world being ruins in a desert of trash. I stripped naked and screamed to the horizon, "party’s over" and something else I can’t remember; I tapped ash onto the backyard tiles and in the moonlight words ‘mountains melting’ appeared as the melody drifted by; I lay down slow blinking and deep breathing, curious as to how it would end. Pictures overlapped, feelings were muddied and inconsequentially I sank into the bean patch. This is a picture of my backyard at night and a cross section of a soft wood.