Originally published in The Brag.

It’s a perfect time for reflection for Guineafowl and his band, their Facebook fanpage still being swamped with words of support and general ‘like-age’ after In Our Circles successfully nabbed FBI’s SMAC award for Sydney’s Favourite Song the night before. It’s just over a year since the ball got rolling for Guineafowl and this award is the perfect acknowledgement of the band having successfully completed year 7 in the music industry (the slightly unsettling high school/music industry analogy – for which I take no responsibility – will be expounded upon later).

Beginning as a one man outfit, Guineafowl quickly inflated into a 6-piece band as the gig requests came rolling in off the back of The Botanist, posted on Unearthed. For Guineafowl, the advantage of a band is simple and indisputable: “Being on my own kind of bites. It’s really hard, and trying to produce all those parts live on my own is not nearly as much fun as playing with five other people who are having just as much fun as you… so I much prefer to have a band with me. In fact my band is great - so I much prefer to have that particular band with me!” Initially gigging for free to “get their musical chops,” Guineafowl clocked in at a sizeable 59 performances last year.

In composition the dust took a little more time to settle, as the addition of the band changed Guineafowl’s writing style dramatically. “I definitely started writing with a conscious band mentality… then one of my band mates said, ‘hey, I really think you express yourself more when you don’t worry about who’s going to play what, and you just write whatever comes to you.’ ”

“I have a great band and I wanted to make them satisfied – it’s about negotiating my old with my new I guess, I’ve got to get better at it.”

Guineafowl’s rise from obscurity to acceptance speeches appears textbook: Unearthed recognition - to radio play - to 150 people at the second show - to signing with Dew Process and producing an EP with Scott Horscroft (who also produced for Little Red, Birds of Tokyo and Silverchair). But textbooks aren’t real life, and the personal journey has been less than smooth for all members of the band. Two musicians left last year: the keyboardist bound for America to babysit Toni Collette’s children, the drummer bound for Spain to “be a Spanish person, I guess…” Last year the remaining members weathered it all, including illnesses in the family and bad break-ups. “We were going through some really emotional stuff while also having extreme highs. But that’s going to happen in any band, you’ve just got to feed that into your performances. We really love each other and care about each other, and I thought that was with every band, but the more bands that I meet out there, the rarer that camaraderie is.”

Guineafowl is well aware his career is yet in its infancy, admitting to still excitedly calling his band mates when he hears a Guineafowl song on triple J. “I look at music as like being in high school. You’re in year seven and you become a really big presence; everyone knows you and you’re doing really well at your subjects… then you go into year eight and it’s a completely different ballgame. You’re not the same as you were and the classes and teachers are completely different. Guineafowl just did year seven and we got OK marks, but we’ve got a long way before we’re anywhere major - the music industry is a very big school.” I demand he completes the analogy, by finding the industry equivalent to the year twelve finals. “I dunno… the Arias?” We laugh, and agree they’re equally over-hyped.