Big Scary - Animal (2LP) - White Vinyl

Big Scary have always been a duo you grow with. Tom Iansek and Joanna Syme never repeat themselves, and Animal, their third album, is where the restless curiosity that simmered on Not Art snaps into sharp focus. It arrived on 2 September 2016 via their Pieater imprint, and it still feels like a statement from a Melbourne band quietly determined to stretch pop into odd shapes without losing the pulse that keeps you humming days later.

Across Animal there is a clear sense of design. The record moves in distinct phases that mirror instinct and mood, so songs swarm, stalk, then settle. You can hear that thoughtfulness in the way arrangements bloom and retract. A synth line will appear like a shadow at the door, then everything opens to piano and a room full of air. Iansek’s voice has that unforced hush he has become known for, a conversational tenor that invites you closer, while Syme’s drumming does the patient, precise work of building tension. She never overplays, which makes every snare crack feel like a decision. It is the sort of chemistry you only get when two people have been in the trenches together for years.

If you came in via The Opposite of Us, you are not alone. It was a genuine earworm in 2016, picked up by triple j and carried into the Hottest 100, and it still hits with the same bittersweet sparkle. The hook climbs in gentle steps, the rhythm section keeps things clipped and nimble, and Iansek threads a melody that feels like a private thought you somehow already know. Over Matter pulls in a different direction, more body than head, built on a pulsing synth chassis that gives Syme room to push and feint. Together they map out the album’s two poles. There is the intimate, piano lit corner and the nocturnal, neon thrum, and Big Scary shuttle between them with an editor’s discipline.

What makes Animal hold up is the production detail. Iansek has long had an ear for negative space, that trick of making the absence of sound feel charged, and he uses it beautifully here. You get bass that sits low and warm, voices that sit forward without glare, and percussion that blends electronic ticks with live touch. The small surprises are everywhere. A chorus quietly doubles on a keyboard line. A guitar figure slips in, dries its hands, and leaves. Syme adds harmonies at just the right moment, softening an edge or turning a thought half a degree. This is studio craft in service of feeling, not the other way around.

The record also benefits from how it fits into their arc. Vacation was spirited and bright, Not Art earned them serious critical respect, and Animal feels like the point where confidence meets play. They lean into groove without chasing trends, which might be why the songs still draw a crowd when you drop them into a playlist next to newer Australian indie. It is the sound of two players trusting each other. That trust lets a song hang back for an extra bar, or lets a chorus hit a fraction later than your body expects. Those tiny delays are addictive.

Spinning Animal on wax brings the architecture into focus. The low end rounds out, the pianos feel more tactile, and the quiet passages really breathe. If you are hunting down Big Scary vinyl, this album is a strong place to start, and it pairs nicely with Not Art if you are building a small run of Big Scary albums on vinyl at home. Plenty of Melbourne record store shelves still file it in Australian indie, though you can easily buy Big Scary records online if you are outside the city or crate digging from elsewhere in the country. For those exploring vinyl records Australia wide, Animal is the kind of local release that rewards a full side A to side B listen rather than quick skips.

Years on, Animal reads like a postcard from a band in motion. It is elegant, a little haunted, and full of small risks that pay off. If you have only heard the singles, clear an hour, drop the needle, and let the record’s phases do their slow work. This is the sound of Big Scary trusting instinct, and it remains one of their most replayable turns. If you see an Animal vinyl copy in the wild, grab it. Some albums want to be collected. This one wants to be lived with.