Convenience Store - Single Feature

Exploring human experience, the importance of a creative space and how the Mellotron ties it all together

Jun 05, 2025

Noah chats to Jack and Nick from Convenience Store all about their latest single, their launch, the Beatles, and how their songwriting is shaped.

Can you describe to us the concept and meaning behind your new single, Tabis (Walk Me Through The Night)?

Jack: We wanted to make a guitar song that felt ravey and electronic at its core – as if all the parts could be reimagined as a dance song. The song was built around Nick’s chord progression and a really straight drum groove. We kept talking about the Blue Nile and those 80s-era sophisti-pop guitar tones that sound really icy and nocturnal, cutting through the whole mix. The main kind of intro loop bit was trying to go for something that sounded sampled, like Clams Casino-era A$AP Rocky but as recorded parts. We composed everything in a really layered way where we didn’t want to add any parts that felt redundant – there’s a lot going on but it all felt like it fit the ‘rules’ of the song.

Nick: The sound of the song was about trying to offset the angst in the lyrics. It sounds like something else is pushing you forward while you’re stuck.

I have dipped into your back catalogue and must say Tabis feels a lot more edgy than your previous work. What inspired this change in sound?

Nick: I think it’s less of a change and more of an ability to realise what we’ve always been going for.

There’s more edge in the sense that there’s confidence to explore the darker, more confronting corners of human experience. It feels scarier and riskier, but the work is rewarded by it.

When we were younger there was a shyness in the lyrics – we were trying to retreat from being judged, but the work suffered as a result. Now we’ve realised that this dance with failure, which risks vulnerability, is the whole fulcrum that the work relies on.

I guess music needs an audience to work, but I’ve found that hyper specific personal writing tends to actually connect with the most people. Music like this can be really cleansing and redemptive for both the audience and performer. It would be remiss for songwriters to have that power and not try to tap into it.

The change in sound is also linked to our gear and creative space, which guides the sounds you make. In the past, we followed a more rudimentary, digital approach to recording that left things kind of clean and overly gentle. Now we have introduced analogue components, new recording techniques, and experience on the road to add more strings to our bow. This has allowed us to more accurately pursue the sounds that have always been in our heads. Maybe subconsciously the broadening of sonic options has meant that my songwriting can be more diverse, now that there’s more possibilities.

The song was written and recorded DIY in your basement studio I believe. Tell us about your set up and how you managed to craft such a rich and dreamy sound?

Jack: Yeah, we recorded it ourselves in a pretty basic home studio that we have. I used to think of a lot of the music we put out in the past as a bit of a training process, slowly working out rules and ideas that we can establish as part of our ‘sound’. There’s a set of recording and mix decisions that we tend to make a lot now that let us sound more coherent and get the most out of a simple recording setup.

The drums were just recorded with 4 mics in the Glyn Johns style, with one high overhead and one overhead by the floor tom. Getting the drum sound right was a huge part of this song that we worked on for ages. We doubled the kick and snare with recorded samples, and put huge but controlled reverb on the snare. I wanted a snare sound that was reverby in an artificial way like that Dean Blunt song ‘50 Cent’. I think ‘I Know It’s Over’ by The Smiths has a snare sound that’s a bit artificial like that too. There’s a bunch of compression and tape distortion to try to get the drums to sound boxy and programmed like they’re from a drum machine.

The rest is just using our Fender Twin and Roland JC-120 amps in ways that gelled together properly. Mixing the song was hard because lots of elements occupied similar areas; the Mellotron, rhythm guitar, and lead guitar all kind of needed to be full in the mids.

There’s also a middle section of the song with a bunch of electronic ambience. I think we mainly used a Korg Minilogue for this, just playing around to get stuff that sounded like distant electronic beeps and drones.

Nick: We always hold the knowledge of Sufjan Steven’s ‘Illinoise’ recording process as the ultimate reminder that we have no excuse for bad home recordings. Though DIY precludes us from the highest, Abbey-Road-Studio-Two level of fidelity, what it makes up for in terms of time and tone is invaluable. Not only do we have as much time as we need to investigate ideas and dream up soundscapes, but the homemade vibe just suits the songs we’re making. Close miking everything and using layers of bedding and doonas does a lot of the work.

In Tabis you use an instrument called the Mellotron used famously by the Beatles but seemingly quite unique in rock music today. Can you tell us about the instrument and what inspired you to get one?

Jack: I wish we had a real one. It’s just a plug-in emulation, but emulations sound pretty good and are sort of faithful to what a Mellotron is, because it’s just a tape loop of an instrument sample linked to each note. It was tragic to hear that Head Gap Recording Studio lost one of the few original Mellotrons in Australia when there was that arson attack in Preston.

Nick: Our bassist – Vincent – and I have spent our entire lives at such a level of Beatles fanaticism that it’s almost a bit strange given how young we are.

I remember in primary school I was in a Beatles gang and we spent lunchtimes listening to Beatles mixes with other likeminded die-hards. Vincent also played in a Beatles acoustic covers band.

The Mellotron has always been in the back of my mind as a glamorised piece of gear, and the way it sounds instantly sparks joy in me. Its presence in this song was one of the last central decisions – we spent days trying to find the perfect accompaniment to the guitar riffs. After heaps of playing around with different synth patches, we decided to keep it simple and go back to this old proto-electronic instrument. The Mellotron holds this retrofuturist promise of an era that never really transpired, adding to the feelings of abandonment.

Jack: I like how the Mellotron sits in the history of rock instruments, working naturally next to guitars, drums, and bass. When you go to think of what instruments to work with, Mellotron doesn’t feel like it’s unnecessarily adding to the rock formula, it’s just part of it.

Can you tell us how you write your songs musically and who brings the lyrics to the table? you delve into some pretty interesting issues around the depression, self-destruction, rave culture, disillusionment, and spiritual persistence. Can you explain your exploration around these?

Nick: We have a Wilco-style workflow, where most songs will start as acoustic demos. If the lyric and chord movement can be compelling stripped back, it justifies recording a full production. This test also means it’s very rare to scrap a song. There’s no specific process in writing the songs, I usually just try to play until something comes to me. Doing it like this can be frustrating but the relief of finding ideas is addictive.

It took a while to become confident in a lyrical voice, as it’s hard to be comfortable with the notion that people want to listen to me. Thinking about the words as a formality to get people vibing to the overall ‘lyrics’ has weirdly made the word choices feel unsupervised and free.

I realised I didn’t just love writers like Frank Ocean, Karl Ove Knausgård, or Joan Didion for their observational ways of using memory and experience to create something beautiful. It was more about seeing their minds operate in a way that felt similar to mine on a day-to-day basis. Even if I’m not songwriting, I understand reality through a lot of poetic constructions. I just siphon these into melodies.

I’m so sceptical of memory and scared of how intangible time is, so writing is my way of holding onto pieces of myself as they pass away. The song is a meditation on youth, and about what it means to be an insufferable urban sophisticate in 2025. We sense a staleness in our novelties, we know our relationships to be superficial. The drugs don’t only wear off but we are aware that the feelings they bring us are fake. Our contentment operates in the same way. But despite all this, we find love, hope, faith – we keep wading through the urban mud never feeling all-good but never feeling all-bad.

This is what the idea of the tabi shoe is about – like a tabi shoe we’re all little toes bound together. Maybe the result is stylish and powerful or maybe it’s vapid and disposable. I don’t know yet. Our experiences and relationships are so complex, and there’s so much going on under the surface that art and words often fail to convey. We aren’t a Tabi, we are toes.

It’s like the opening line of Anna Karenina: “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”.

Jack: Or like when Will Toledo says “I'm sick of meaning, I just wanna hold you”.

You are launching the Single at The Tote Upstairs on June 6th to coincide with the single release. It must be a nice feeling to be able to celebrate it being out in the world with a headline show. Can you tell us about the supports - Claude & Hot Glue?

Jack: Nick goes to Cinemateque with Obe, who sings in Claude. The Claude guys are awesome and we’ve been friends with them since when they first moved to Melbourne from the Peninsula. They’re all dope guys who are so irreverent and genuine. Shouts out to all of them.

It’s going to be really nice to release this single. We haven’t released new songs since early 2023. Playing a headline show will be great too because we’ve been working on our new set for ages and feel really happy with the new approach.

Nick: I’ve always had this theory that you can sort Melbourne bands into whether they’re acolytes of Pavement or The Strokes. We’re definitely The Strokes. I think Claude are more Pavement which is gun.

Jack: Hot Glue rock too, I think I saw them play a show with Dogworld who are also awesome. They remind me a bit of Camp Cope. Their music is really cathartic and manages to be really heavy in some parts without feeling like the delicate emotional core of the song has been scandalised. It’s really cool.

What’s next for Convenience Store? Are there more singles on the way or an album announcement perhaps?

Jack: We’ve been working on heaps of new music, so there’s more stuff to come. Don’t want to give too much away but watch this space for sure.

Finally, who are your favourite local Melbourne bands at the moment or who would you like to see interviewed for Tempo

Jack: You should check out Paprika, one of their members Oscar helped us work on this song. Also Mouseatoullie for sure. And I really rate Spike Fuck.

Nick: Some of the great acts in our scene are Hamish Bloom, Think About You, or Seagull, who I saw recently with some people from Claude. Also The Bel Air Lip Bombs are unreal. We also find HighSchool really inspiring, and love their insistence on melody. Hannah McKittrick is great too. And Caucasian Opportunities.

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