Despite the odd uppercut, these muso siblings always play on

Sydney musicians Emma Hamilton, 39, and her brother Thomas, 36, have been performing together all their lives. Despite some creative differences, a deep connection always draws them back to each other.

Thomas Hamilton: “The fights never last, though. Even after she punched me, we were laughing three hours later.”Credit: Dominic Lorrimer

Emma: Our childhood was consumed with music. Our dad Ross is a musician and we played in his band Stringybark from when I was 12 and Tom was 10. Every weekend we’d play in pubs and RSL clubs. I was on piano, Tom on drums. We did folk, Australiana, country. I can’t remember a time I didn’t want to be a musician. Tom and I were like twins. When we discovered we could harmonise, we became obsessed. People thought it was unusual how much time we spent together. I remember showing up to a party with him and someone said, “Oh, trust a Hamilton to bring a sibling to a party.”

There was tension when we weren’t sure of our roles. I was always the piano player, then Tom got really good on the piano. That was hard to swallow. If I wanted to play something a certain way, Thomas was always telling me, “No, do it this way.” But it became clear that Tom hears the bigger picture and brings things out of me that I don’t necessarily hear. He took on the producer role and it was a really good dynamic. He can hear any melody, any chord progression and repeat it on several instruments. He’s talented.

We can be brutal with our words. Tom might say, “Hey, what you did on that song was lazy.” It’ll hurt because it’s true. I might say to him, “When you play it like this, you’re taking the easy option because you’re scared.” I only say it because I know how great he can be. He’ll be mad at me for a few days. Then we’ll write an email, “You’re my soulmate, I love you, let’s keep going.”

In 2012, we toured Europe and opened for [Australian guitarist] Tommy Emmanuel at the International House of Music in Moscow. It was the biggest room I’d ever played. There’s an Edith Piaf song we do, La Foule, that always makes me nervous because of changes in the time signature. But we looked at each other, we locked in, all the inhibition went away. When I slowed down, there was no lag; Tom followed me perfectly as if we were one person. In that moment you feel very free. I’m not even thinking about the music because I know he’s right with me, holding me up on the song. We got an incredible response – very Russian – people throwing roses onto the stage.

‘I’m not even thinking about the music because I know he’s right with me, holding me up on the song.’

Emma Hamilton

We bought one-way tickets to London in 2015 and got picked up by really cool venues. We had a residency in Piccadilly Circus [at Brasserie Zédel] six nights a week. We stayed in a flat there for three years – me and my husband in the lounge room and Tom in the bedroom. Thomas isn’t the easiest person to live with: after work at 3am he’d make dinner – the only thing he knows how to cook is steak, so the whole house would be smoked up. We had some big arguments.

I got pregnant and came back to Australia to have the baby. Tom stayed in London for two more years, until COVID forced him back. The time apart was good for both of us. Thomas became a band leader because he couldn’t rely on me to book the shows, choose the repertoire, be on time. And I had to adapt to new musicians. We value each other more now. We’ve got an unwritten rule that playing together is part of our lives. We get the best out of each other.

“It was a musical household,” says Thomas. “There was always a record on, our parents playing mandolin and guitar, singing together.”Credit: Courtesy of Emma and Thomas Hamilton

Thomas: My first memory is Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World. It was a musical household. There was always a record on, our parents playing mandolin and guitar, singing together. I started on drums – playing pots and pans – at the age of two. I always knew I wanted to be on stage.

I was eight and Emma 10 when we started writing songs. I was on drums, Emma played the chords [on the piano] and I’d start humming melodies and it developed. People made fun of Emma for hanging out with her little brother, but all the biographies of sibling bands – the Bee Gees, the Carpenters, the Beach Boys – all the people we love were made fun of for hanging out together. We didn’t give a shit. We were never cool; we were always obsessed with music.

When we were teenagers, there were serious fights. Once, there was a problem with an arrangement; she was screaming, I was screaming. She swung at me, got me a beauty, an uppercut, I felt my jaw move. To this day, I can still get annoyed, especially because there’s a lot of gear to set up. I’ll be carrying it all in and she’ll say, “Oh, I have to do my make-up.” She comes back half an hour later looking great and I’m sweating. The fights never last, though. Even after she punched me, we were laughing three hours later.

‘I had to get what I wanted from Emma musically while she was having a huge life crisis.’

Thomas Hamilton

There was tension when I wanted to be the producer: I became obsessed with the vision. We fought for a long time but, eventually, she realised she wasn’t as interested in the arrangements. Her passions were singing and songwriting, being the front person. We asserted ourselves in our roles and things got better.

I produced her 2011 album La Musique when I was 23. She was breaking up with her boyfriend at the time. There was a lot of expectation on her and I had a lot of responsibility on me. I had to tread carefully because I had to get what I wanted from Emma musically while she was having a huge life crisis. I stopped seeing her as just a big sister and saw her more as a woman. Our relationship matured then.

We’re working on another album now. In London, everything gelled for us and we started getting the best reactions. It had been 20 years of experimenting with this fusion of cabaret and New Orleans jazz and Cajun music. We finally went, “We’ve got it, this is the sound.” Emma’s voice doesn’t sound like anyone else’s: she’s an original, gifted with melody. We have the same musical sensibilities. One of us sings, the other harmonises straight away.

All I want to do is work on my music and work with Emma. If I die and that’s all I’ve done in my life – my music and Emma – I’ll be happy.

The Hamiltons play at Foundry 616, Sydney, October 20 and Paris Cat Jazz Club, Melbourne, October 27.

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