Mick Harvey - Waves Of Anzac / The Journey (LP) - Clear Vinyl

Mick Harvey has always had a gift for restraint. Across decades with The Birthday Party and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and on his own solo and soundtrack work, he leans into space and suggestion rather than bombast. Waves of ANZAC / The Journey, released on Mute in 2020, distills that approach into two instrumental suites that feel both intimate and ceremonial, the sort of music that lingers in the room long after the last note.

Waves of ANZAC opens like a slow tide. Piano and strings circle each other, patient and unhurried, with guitar figures tucked into the edges like distant signals. Harvey avoids easy melodrama. The harmonies carry a quiet gravity that fits the material, since ANZAC memory in Australia and New Zealand is bound up with grief, ritual, and complicated pride. You can hear how carefully each cue is balanced. Low cellos hold the floor, a chord turns just slightly sour, a snare murmurs rather than cracks. Nothing shouts. The themes keep returning as if they were built for reflection, which of course they were. Harvey has written film and television music for years, and you can sense that discipline here. He writes cues that feel complete in two or three minutes, yet each one threads into the next so the suite plays like a single thought.

The Journey is lighter on its feet but not lighter in intent. There is movement in the writing, a steady pull forward, as if the camera were moving through air or road hazes. Melodies trade between piano and guitar, strings come in as a ripple or a gentle lift, and the rhythm section is subtle enough that you only notice it when it drops out. If Waves of ANZAC looks at the past, The Journey leans toward open horizons. Harvey has always been good at memory pieces, and this one carries the same elegant touch he brought to projects like his Gainsbourg translations and his long history of arranging for other artists.

If you have followed his solo path, the album also lands as a companion to The Fall and Rise of Edgar Bourchier and the Horrors of War, the 2018 collaboration with Christopher Richard Barker that wrestled with World War I ghosts. Harvey keeps returning to questions of remembrance, ceremony, and the stories we set to music. He is not a maximalist. He trusts a melody. He trusts a muted color. That confidence in small gestures is what makes this record rewarding on repeat listens.

The recording itself feels close and unfussy. Strings are warm rather than glossy. Pianos hold their pedal tails so rooms come into focus. It is the kind of production that flatters the music on a turntable. The Waves of ANZAC / The Journey vinyl plays like a quiet conversation, a good test for a system’s midrange rather than its sub bass. If you obsess over dynamics and headroom, you will find plenty to admire. And if you are the kind of listener who loves to buy Mick Harvey records online, this one belongs on the short list. It is an easy recommendation for anyone browsing Mick Harvey albums on vinyl or hunting for that next mellow evening spin.

A little context never hurts. Harvey’s reputation as a collaborator is legend, but his soundtrack writing often gets less day-to-day chatter than it deserves. These suites show what happens when he gets the frame to himself. He favors patiently built chord sequences, the sort that allow a scene to breathe. He can find a core melody and vary it with small shifts in arrangement instead of big key changes. It is craft, not flash, and it wears well. Critics who tuned in at the time noted the poise and focus, and fans of his earlier instrumental work should feel right at home.

If you are crate digging for Mick Harvey vinyl, this is one of those records that slips easily between modern classical and film score shelves. It works on Sunday afternoons and late nights. It works for close listening and as careful atmosphere. And if you happen to wander into a Melbourne record store, keep an eye out. This sits nicely alongside other thoughtful Mute titles, and it is a solid gateway for anyone who knows him only from the Bad Seeds years. For those building a collection of Australian music on wax, or browsing vinyl records Australia wide, Waves of ANZAC / The Journey makes a strong case for Harvey as a composer of lasting themes, not just moods. Quiet music, full heart.