Ada and Ivan, chillin' like rockstars
They're tiny, they are masters and they are very today. But what about tomorrow, will they still be masters that are tiny? SUPERSWEET's Tiffany Tondut finds out.
There are certain creative energies in this world that can simultaneously attract and repel us. Energies that may incite an automatic response of critical awareness, yet also manage to arouse a deeper, almost magnetic curiosity within us that we somehow just cannot avoid, even if we wanted to. Shirley Temple, The Jackson Five and Donny Osmond are ones for example. But let us now welcome the Tiny Masters of Today - the latest in pre-adolescent musical prodigies to hit the stage. The punk-rock brother-sister duo’s debut album Bang Bang Boom Cake incorporates raging guitars with a softly sung taste for sweeping political dissidence. You’d be right in thinking this is a bold stance for a band who’s combined age is 24, but it’s precisely this combination of cultural and political awareness as sung from the mouths of babes that continues to intrigue listeners and kick up industry spirit, not to mention sharpen the soft-focus halcyon days of bygone child entertainment. These ambitious anti-Bush, anti-mainstream, anti-consumerist youngsters can adeptly rock out their own instruments on a mosh-pit diving four date U.K tour.
With this in mind, I turn up at the freshly decked Rough Trade store armed with a mental stack of information and my curiosity chiming in unison to a firm interest in discovering the truth behind the hype. But it’s this same hype that leaves me unprepared for the reality of my initial encounter, for seated in the corner are two small, pale children - now suddenly very real and coyly stripped of their anti-establishment front. It’s while they take five for a rushed and very ravenous lunch that I re-asses my own stance, deciding how deeply I can probe the origins and authenticity of their political views. But since the duo thump out boldly articulated C.I.A lyrics like adults, I find it only fair that I should question them as that. Ivan hungrily considers his lunch leaving Ada to thoughtfully consider my questioning. After a period of silence she cannot answer, but without wanting to discourage her enthusiasm, I question whether their opinions were encouraged by family, much in the same way their musical tastes have been handed down from the folks.
"Yeah, like I think it’s not something our parents forced upon us but more like, let us be what we were about and how we’ve naturally grown up in our surroundings” says Ada. And what came first? Their cultural attitudes or their music? And to what extent did one influence and shape the other? “I really can’t remember” she continues, but they’ve been playing their instruments since the age of 8. Through this, it becomes apparent that although they share the passion of fashionable teenage anarchy, their knowledge of state affairs is understandably a much later collaboration with more politically enthused mentors. Having now penetrated the punk-rock shield, I feel I can relax into a more natural state of conversation with them, wondering if any of the fun has been taken out of making music since their success.
“Not at all. It’s actually become more fun.”, munches Ivan. “Yeah”, collaborates Ada, “we’ve been able to do so much more. I know we wouldn’t have been able to come here (to the U.K) if it weren’t for our tour so it’s brought great things. Great, great things”.
Their gratitude is evident, and their success a much deserved result of continued hard work, which makes me consider their self taught discipline as another rare trait to treasure. Among a generation of youngsters who’s cultural participation extends as far as the lead on an X-box, Tiny Master’s are to be celebrated for their active enthusiasm. Ivan has finished his lunch and decides to contribute, "That’s probably how we got started. We were bored and so we thought, I don’t know, lets make music…I got a guitar when I was seven, and we had a drum kit we could hit on”. Apparently it was a ‘pretty easy’ journey to making music from then on. But what about the process of writing? Are they now bound by routine rehearsals and studio time?
"No. I think it’s what we feel like when we feel like doing it.” Ivan admits, “ We haven’t actually been that creative lately. The last song we wrote was Hologram World. There was a while when we were banging out songs really fast”. Ada sparks up, “We don’t really work where we force out songs. The way we write is when we feel inspiration rather than like other people who constantly write. The best way to write a good song is to let it come out and not force it”
It’s this unregimented philosophy that propels itself into the spirit of the band’s music, with each track suddenly and fervently alive - screeching like a sporadic arm wrestle with an out of tune Dan Electro. Considering the effigy and energy of their alternative-punk brand, do they ever fear for their own future commercialisation?
A pensive pause.
“I think if it started getting like, not who we really are then I think we would probably stop”, Ada nobly muses. “Yeah. At the end of the day there’s nothing you could really do against it. You can try your hardest”, Ivan boldly adds. “The whole point is to have fun and to make music and I wouldn’t want to do otherwise.”
I feel Ivan is finally warming up, so while we’re on the topic of effigies, I jump at the chance to ask him what kind of animal the band’s music would be and - “A meercat” he shoots in, before I can finish the ‘and why?’ part of the question. And why? “Meercats are awesome. They’re my favourite animal. They’re fierce like a puma.” And small? “Exactly”, he smiles. The perfect analogy, and one that reveals the excited child-like glint in their eyes. Do they feel as though their childhood has been lost?
“Not really because I can’t think of a time before it”, he continues. Ada chirps in, “I think about what out lives would be like without this and I can’t. If I was like, feeling very tired or…aaaargh! I can’t believe I have to do this, but then I think, what would I be doing if I wasn’t (making music). It’s very strange to think what our lives would be like” Both Ivan and Ada sit staring into space, trying hard to remember their pasts before musical intervention. “Like all the people that we wouldn’t know, all the things we wouldn’t be doing”, Ivan dreamily murmurs.
It’s a strange reality for these children to be in - one that exists somewhere between Kansas and planet Oz. While they speak of making music as an almost routinely ground normality, and one they cannot imagine being without, they still struggle to comprehend the fantastical aspects of their venture. When Ivan starts recalling a Texas gig, his eyes glaze over in astonished memory at the sight of a ‘big star’ in the audience, “We were playing this gig when Wayne Coyne from the Flaming Lips was there and I’m so impressed with him and I was like, trying to go up and talk but I couldn’t.” I watch his eyes twinkle in bewilderment, “It was just so weird to look over and see him there. But that was the only person for me that was like, a real star, a big enough star that I would recognise him, like I’m sure there’s people there that were kind of big but not like him.”
At times they feel pretty grounded in their new ‘normality’, but at moments like this it’s clear that the Tiny Masters are still acclimatising to the rewards of their own domain, and the ‘normality’ they experience now can only deepen into a dreamier existence. I wonder if they’ll be able to remain grounded regarding their continued success and what they’d be doing with their futures if the music stopped, but Ivan’s already reverted back to his self-made punk-rock effigy, scuffing up his hair and slouching into his answer, “If I wasn’t a rock star, I’d probably be a designer”. Ada’s consideration is surprisingly humble, “I don’t want to be a rock star when I grow up. I want to be a writer.”
But whatever their choice of career, one thing is clear - if the Tiny Master’s of Today continue their success into Tomorrow, they can conquer whatever it is they want.
Words: Tiffany Tondut
Photography: Burak Cingi