A Man's Not a Camel

A Man's Not a Camel

“I started making the terrible mistake of being introspective on this record,” Frenzal Rhomb’s lead singer Jay Whalley tells Apple Music. “It was written when we were headed for the year 2000. Until this record, the band had just been this massive party, but we were heading towards this time when we were going to culminate in this enormous worldwide party for the end of the millennium. And then what was going to happen after that? Was there going to be this huge crash? So the record has these undertones of negativity. It's not quite as joyous as it first seems.” A Man’s Not a Camel was the Sydney punk band’s fourth album when it was released in 1999, but it was the first that really earned them more widespread attention from radio stations, venues and tour promoters outside the punk circles they’d already become a beloved part of. As Whalley pointed out, while the album still feels mostly fun, funny and ready for parties and festivals, a more cynical, satirical tone had nevertheless begun creeping in—no matter how lighthearted they sounded on the surface. Below, he talks through each track on the Aussie punk staple. Never Had So Much Fun “We still play that song live a lot, and the crowd loves it. Everyone singing along is really in agreement that this is the funnest time of their life, and I like the fact that everyone gets joy out of singing this thing that's really less joyful than it seems. So there’s positivity in that: Regardless of the fact that things are pretty shit, you can still try and have a good time.” You Are Not My Friend “I was talking to someone the other day about the various themes of punk—in general, not just Frenzal Rhomb—and one of them is ‘Someone in my wider circle of friends is a c**t.’ That's a definite theme that comes up probably once at least on every punk record since 1980, including this one. It was a very popular song, another example of one that's actually pretty negative. Horrible sort of song. It’s partially about an actual person and partially just general negativity about people.” It’s Up to You “It’s one of my lazier writing experiences—just one of those songs where you pick the title because you think it sounds like a punk song. Our manager was like, ‘Why don't you do something completely different and not play the instruments you know how to play? Just pick up instruments you've never played before.’ It sounded like a great idea, but we were way too cowardly to do that—except here, there’s a ladder that we used as one of the percussion instruments. Our tip of the hat to our manager's grand idea.” I Know Everything About Everything “That was about a specific person who was a ring-in in my family at that time. He was very opinionated about everything— to a point where it would be destructive to other relationships. It was a real drain on everyone.” I Miss My Lung “I remember we did some demos on the balcony of this house in Chicago. There was an anti-smoking ad in America at the time and there was the guy, the Marlboro Man, looking wistfully off into the sunset, saying, ‘I miss my lung.’ So I took that and turned it into a bit of a love song. The jury’s out on whether it's a metaphor or not. Because I had health problems, a lot of people do think I have been operating on one lung since then. I definitely do have two lungs, but I also have a history with smoking, so it was a bit of both.” We're Going Out Tonight “I feel like that was another pretty lazy lyric-writing experience. It sounded good at the time. I guess this is one of the happier songs on the record, it’s more upbeat. I think it was my attempt to sound like The Living End. I really failed, but it was that more midtempo kind of thing, with lyrics that don't mean anything.” Let's Drink a Beer “A friend of mine calls these sorts of songs ‘real thick-head shit’. But it’s good, it’s fun, it’s another one that the crowd really enjoys singing along to. There might be some negativity in there somewhere about excessive drinking and whatnot, but it’s mainly just a call-to-arms for 26-year-olds, which I was at the time, thinking I was invincible and could drink beer forever.” I Know Why Dinosaurs Became Extinct… “Oh god. Why? Why did we even do that? It's so dumb. I can't even begin to excuse that, but for some reason it's still there. I think I'm just going to wait for it to disappear.” I Don't Need Your Loving “We drove around a lot in the tour van thinking something was really funny, then writing songs about them. Some of them, you’re like, ‘We really should have just waited for a couple of weeks and decided whether it was still funny, because this record's going to be around for a long time.’ But it’s funny in hindsight too, because I guess it ended up being prophetic. I have had a few medical emergencies where everything is stripped away and you’re laying in a hospital bed, and things like love and friendships and family are really all you’ve got left once everything's gone.” Self Destructor “It was so introspective—a terrible, terrible business, god, who cares? We were all living very unhealthy lives at that point, and I got really sick after that because of that lifestyle and ended up in hospital. We cancelled Big Day Out, which was going to be our triumphant festival appearance for that record. Then all of a sudden I was in hospital. I think I weirdly knew that I was on this path but didn't really do anything to stop it either, which is fucking dumb, but you know, we live and learn.” Go Frenzal Go “This kid in South Australia, his parents had a bunch of horses. He had one called He's a Genius, which is one of our earlier songs, and one called Frenzal Rhomb. We just happened to tape this one race. He would never, ever win. I think it was a gelding, but yeah, just never, ever won. And this one time it won. It was such an incredible thing to have been able to capture. It’s this juxtaposition of how we’re this vegetarian, vegan, anti-horse-racing band with a horse named after us, who triumphantly won this race. So the song is really about how bad horse racing is, but also we’re just willing this thing to win because it's named after your band and it's hilarious.” Do You Wanna Fight Me? “It definitely falls under the category of lazy, lazy lyric writing. Another theme that pops up a fair amount in Frenzal Rhomb songs is fleeing from violence—this is basically an exposé of our own cowardice. We grew up as a band in this time when touring in regional Australia was a sketchy thing to do if you had green hair or looked a bit different. I remember our first tour of Queensland, we went to Toowoomba. The guy from the pub came out to meet us at the van and said, ‘If you want to fight, go into the front bar, and if you don't want to fight, then go into where you play the music and just do your show and leave.’ I was like, ‘Fuck. Where are we?’ We felt like we were constantly just running away.” Methadone “The laziest lyric writing of all time. I remember our manager at the time being like, ‘You have to try harder than this. You can't just find 50 things that rhyme with methadone.’ But apparently I could. I probably started with an idea of making some comment on excessive drug use or something, but I just fucking chickened out.” Don't Talk to Me “Oh my god, a deep B-side. If there was a C-side it should be on that. I can't remember anything about this song except that I don't like it.” Summer's Here “It’s another seemingly upbeat song that's about getting cancer. That Australian experience for people who aren't necessarily your beach-buff, great-looking people. The misfits out there. Someone with a skin tone like mine should be living in a cave in Iceland, not hanging out on the beach.” I Don't Wanna Go to Work Today “Initially I thought it was going to be a regular song. It’s about my lifelong attempt to never work properly, which I've managed to achieve on and off. I sang it so badly—I was probably quite intoxicated—that the producer wanted to double-track it. It still sounded bad, so we triple-tracked it. There are like 40 tracks of me singing on there. At one point I was lying on the ground singing and a manager came and stood on my chest trying to somehow make me do it either better or more interestingly. I think that’s why we decided to make it a secret track.”

Select a country or region

Africa, Middle East, and India

Asia Pacific

Europe

Latin America and the Caribbean

The United States and Canada