Q&A: Vance Joy, singer-songwriter

James Keogh, better known as Vance Joy, on his breakthrough hit, his “guitalele” and his low-fi attitude to life.

Vance Joy. Picture: Josh Robenstone

Your song Riptide topped the Triple J Hottest 100 of 2013 and led to a major US record deal. How do you feel about the song today? I still enjoying playing it, and I play it pretty regularly. For me, it’s the song that opened up all these doors. I don’t think I’d have a career, really, if I didn’t have that song — or it would look a lot different.

Were there any downsides to its success? Maybe there’s a bit of pressure, because you go, “That was my first song ever, and it came in so high”. But I can never really see a downside to it. It’s such a cool thing, and it’s a rare opportunity to have.

The first track on your new album is played on a guitar/ukulele hybrid. Where did you find that instrument? In Nashville, I picked up this little Yamaha “guitalele” for $120; it’s like a guitar you get little kids when they’re starting to play and their hands are small. I wrote that song, Call Me If You Need Me, on a guitar, but on the guitalele it had a nice lo-fi quality. Every now and then you go into a music shop and pick out some random instrument, and for some reason it sings to you.

What was the first money you earned as a kid growing up in Melbourne? When I was about 10, my friend Jake had an idea that we’d go and wash people’s cars. We walked around the street, charging people $5 to $10 — pretty good money. Actually, I’ve never been that motivated by working. I didn’t really have a job in high school. It took a fair bit of encouragement from my folks to say, “Get off your arse and get a job!” I think I was a bit too dreamy to really focus. The car wash thing was the first money I made, but there was a hiatus for 10 years!

You credit a couple of lines in the song Alone With Me to your Mum, who’s an English teacher. What else has she given you? Mum really taught me to love literature. When I was at school [at St Kevin’s College, Toorak] she would bring a book into focus for me, make me understand how emotional and how penetrating words can be.

Could you make the best album of all time, then bury it and never listen to it and still be content? No, because I feel like songs live when you actually give them to people. The joy that someone gets from it is such a big part of it. You can be certain that you’ve written a good song, but until you play it to someone and they tap their foot and give you that reaction — it’s a way of giving the song a life.

You come across as pretty unflappable. Does anything stress you out? Sometimes I think of stress as a product of your own hot air, like a mirage. You can get worked up over nothing, whether that’s sitting in traffic or running late for the hairdresser. It’s good to remember it’s not that important.

As recently as 2012 you were a promising Aussie rules player [for Richmond reserve team Coburg]. When your team is down by a few points in the final quarter, are you on your feet and yelling? I try to be relaxed even in those situations. A good philosophy I heard was from [British writer] Alan Watts. He said that when snow piles up on a tree branch, if the branch is really rigid, it will snap. But if it’s flexible, the snow will eventually slide off and the branch pop back into position. I like to think of that image when there’s some stress or expectation on me. I try to just go with the flow, not create too much resistance.

Vance Joy’s second album, Nation of Two, is out on February 23 (Liberation Music). He performs at the Sydney City Limits festival in Centennial Parklands on February 24.