A Quick Chat With Nick Batterham

On his deeply engaging seventh solo album The Sentimentalist, Naarm film composer, producer and former member of 90’s indie faves The Earthmen, Nick Batterham is ready to lean into the power of a lifetime spent looking back. 

Nick explores via the realms of alt roots adjacent folk, through to noisy guitar driven and orchestral pop to deliver an album that seeks to resist an aversion to vulnerability.  It’s a carefully crafted exploration of love and hope that is all things heart worn, heart-warming and irresistibly relatable. 

We caught up with Nick for a quick chat about the new album, his past and the recent work he has been doing with celebrated visual artist Rone.


Congratulations on your new album The Sentimentalist. It's your 7th solo album, so what do you think has changed in your writing since your early solo releases?


Thank you! It’s hard to make a self-assessment, but I think my inner voice has changed over the years, as much as my physical voice. I’m still jostled by my emotions, but perhaps more aware of what they are. The Sentimentalist leans into that idea of self-reflection and searches for beauty amongst the not so pretty stuff. My songwriting process remains unchanged, I still collect words and phrases, then piece them together when the mood strikes. Songwriting still helps me process my emotions and find some degree of self-compassion. It doesn’t define me, but it helps me be myself. 


How does the muse appear for you, is it a blinding flash of inspiration, or is more of a process of gradual reveal?


It varies. I don’t chase it or force myself to write anymore, but I do nurture the muse by absorbing art and literature and paying attention to things around me. Noticing beauty in things or words that zing. Listening consciously is important. I think that is the work of songwriting, or anything creative. I enjoy the puzzle solving nature of songwriting, that one thing leads to another. A lot of time being in a state of transition, following enticing glimpses. Having devotion to the task, the gradual reveal can be very rewarding. I don’t so much hear melodies in my head, but they are there as soon as I sit at the piano… so I try not to sit at the piano unless I’m prepared to go all the way! 


You record and produce your material in your own studio, is this a blessing, or does the opportunity to take your time and explore all options available hinder your progress?


Recording has always been a part of my writing process, ever since that first cassette 4-track as a teenager, the ideas and their capture are intertwined. I love being in a flow state, flipping between the artist/performer role and the technician/editor role. Trying different instruments and arrangements, exploring rabbit-holes – as much as end results are important, the process is what I enjoy the most. 


You have gained notice for your work in film and via your collaborations with the likes of visual artist Rone, how does this work differ from that of your own, obviously it still must come from your own ideas and influences? 

Yeah, Rone has been transformative for me. It has been amazing to connect with so many people through instrumental music. It seems my melancholy stylings are more widely relatable without my lyrics making them all about me! I’m sure the context of Rone’s installations is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. At the end of the day it is all the same thing, using music to convey feelings and stoke the imagination. I’m glad I no longer feel the need to force everything into a song, I’m enjoying writing more than ever.


How does being an original artist in today's musical landscape differ from your early days playing with The Earthmen?

I think many aspects are still the same, particularly the feeling that music creates and the bond that friends have when they play music together. The obvious external difference is the pesky internet. The double edge sword - it is cheap and easy to create content and share it with the world, but the world is drowning in content, making it very hard to cut through, or make any money. There has always been a hustle aspect to being a performer, a sense of playing the system. We were very lucky in the 90’s to ride the wave of public and major label enthusiasm for “alternative” music. Having that corporate machinery behind us, made opportunities open up ahead of us. I’m sure that industry still exists, and probably still mangles the dreams of artists who venture inside its compound.


You're launching this new album with a rare live show at the Northcote Social Club in June, should we expect faithful reproductions of the recorded work, or is there room for some live interpretation?


You’ll have to come to find out! The album was recorded with the band playing live in the studio, so at its core the gig will be the same - just without some extra layers, like Budapest Art Orchestra and the horn section! Performing so rarely, I put pressure on myself for it to be awesome, but I trust with all the years we’ve been playing together it will be great fun and I just need to be myself and enjoy getting to play with my friends. My nervous energy usually throws out a few dry, self-deprecating stories to cast the songs in a favourable light.


If you were to create a perfect listening scenario for an end user to aurally (orally?) consume this new album, where and what would that be? i.e. time, place, mood...


Consumption implies a finite resource, and I don’t see music that way. We all absorb music differently. I think the location or transport of the sound itself is insignificant compared to the mental and emotional state of the human receiving it. In a way, The Sentimentalist places extra value on feelings, emotions, and memory. The album is me exploring mine. I hope my music finds people and makes them feel connected, that they can relate, or at least connect with their own emotions for a while.


Nick Batterham - The Sentimentalist is out through Cheersquad Records & Tapes from May 17th.

Available here