Big Scary - Daisy (LP) - Pink Marbled Vinyl

Released 30 April 2021 on the duo’s own Pieater label, Daisy catches Big Scary in a lighter, more playful mood without losing the careful craft that’s run through their work since the Vacation and Not Art days. Tom Iansek and Jo Syme have always been tinkerers at heart, swapping instruments and roles to suit the song, and here that curiosity turns toward bright synths, clipped percussion and melodies that bloom quickly then hang around in your head for days.

What hits first is how lean it feels. The record runs a tight half hour or so, which suits the writing. There’s no baggy middle, no indulgent detours, just concise pop forms that still carry the pair’s trademark detail. Iansek’s production keeps a gentle sheen on things, but there’s air in the mix too, space for Jo’s drums to thwack and for little ear-worming counterlines to dart in and out. When Tom leans into his soft falsetto, it lands like a friendly nudge rather than a showy flourish. When Jo steps to the mic, the songs tilt toward a more grounded, conversational pulse. That push and pull is part of what makes Big Scary feel like a band you live with, not just stream and forget.

If Animal often felt like four distinct rooms to wander through, Daisy is one bright space you want to linger in. Guitars are less of a focal point, traded for glassy keys, rubbery bass and drum machines that lock into an easy stride. The hooks are tidy, the choruses stick, and the rhythm section keeps things buoyant even when the lyrics glance at doubt or self-sabotage. It’s pop, sure, but not the kind that tries to knock you over. More like an open window on a warm Brunswick afternoon.

The lead single Get Out set the tone, a zippy little rallying cry that nudges you toward the door when you know you need to make a change. It’s catchy in that sly Big Scary way, sneaking up on you halfway through a tram ride. Across the album, they keep finding that balance between sweetness and bite. A track will start with a featherlight motif, then the kick lands, a synth arpeggio starts to prickle, and suddenly you’re moving. They make restraint feel exciting.

What I love most is how tactile the record sounds. You can hear fingers on keys, sticks on rims, those small human details that remind you two people built this together in Melbourne, probably arguing over snare sounds and laughing at takes that go off the rails. Iansek’s ear for texture has long been prized around town, and Daisy shows why, the way he stacks tones so nothing rubs the wrong way but nothing turns to mush either. Syme’s drumming is the spine, dry and punchy, with just enough swing to keep things from getting boxy.

Big Scary don’t chase trends, and Daisy benefits from that patience. The songs feel lived in, like they were tried a few ways before the right shape snapped into focus. The sequencing does that vinyl trick too, starting with a burst of colour, sinking into a reflective pocket in the middle, then stepping out happy and unhurried at the end. On a turntable the record really breathes, and if you’re the type who still trawls Melbourne record store bins on Saturdays, the Daisy vinyl is a satisfying spin, front to back.

For anyone building out a shelf of Big Scary albums on vinyl, this sits comfortably next to Not Art and Animal, a sunnier companion piece that still rewards close listening. If you’ve only got room for one Big Scary vinyl right now, Daisy is a strong place to start, a snapshot of two seasoned songwriters finding joy in clarity. And if you prefer to buy Big Scary records online, Pieater and plenty of shops that specialise in vinyl records Australia have kept this one in healthy circulation.

Daisy doesn’t try to be a grand statement. It’s a modest, wonderfully crafted pop record from a pair who know exactly where their strengths lie. Bright but not sugary, tidy but never sterile, it’s the sound of Big Scary letting the songs lead, and it’s hard not to follow.