Electronic pop maximalists Empire Of The Sun need a suitably grandiose setting to justify their widescreen sound. As Luke Steele, half of the Australian duo, explains to Ellie Evans, that’s why they recently had to can their own festival – and why Cardiff Castle is a plum location for their first ever Welsh appearance.
An Empire Of The Sun concert is a platform for expressive storytelling, extravagant costumes and a redefinition of what live music performance can offer. The duo formed in Sydney nearly 20 years ago, as a sideline from each member’s other respective bands – Luke Steele was in The Sleepy Jackson; Nick Littlemore is still a member of Pnau – and developed the initial idea into something much larger, through ferocious creativity and a refusal to dilute their vision.
This month, Empire Of The Sun begin a hefty tour which traverses Europe and the United States, finishing in early October and including their maiden Welsh show, in Cardiff Castle on Tue 23 June. Steele is in rehearsals for it when I catch up with him. “They’re coming together great!” he beams, while appearing slightly dishevelled from these preparations. “It’s the detrimental effect of being such an overachiever. It’s exhausting.”
Such is the theatricality of the EOTS live experience, Steele must get into character before taking to the stage. Typically, he’ll arrive at the venue hours before showtime to walk the grounds, and burn incense to spiritually prepare for the show. It’s a grounding ritual to help him “bless the land that we’re going to, pray over the land, and ask the land to welcome [us] to the place, becoming one with it,” inspired by traditional practices of Aboriginal peoples. If you’re in Cardiff city centre on the day, you might catch a glimpse of him before stage time.
From making EOTS’ 3D animations and graphic design visuals to producing their records, Steele collaborates across all mediums to achieve the band’s conceptual identity. “I like to think I’m probably the hardest working artist on the planet,” Luke tells me. “I just need to be the director of all departments. I’ve always been like that. It’s always collaborating across all mediums, because they’re all symbiotic.”
At the time I speak to Steele, he and Littlemore should have been decompressing after their debut of their Chrysalis festival in Los Cabos, Mexico. EOTS were set to deliver a unique performance on each of three nights, topping a self-curated bill featuring Disclosure, Magdalena Bay and Del Water Gap among many others. The weekend was cancelled earlier this year; partway through the construction of the festival, Steele says, permits and land rights became an impossible challenge to overcome.
“We only do things at the highest standard we can do them,” he adds. “If it’s just gonna be watered down, I’m just not gonna do it.” Still, he views the entire ordeal as an invaluable learning curve in putting on a festival.
Steele seems open-eared enough to ace the programmer role, at least. “My relationship with music is probably stronger than ever,” he says; reeling off music artists that have excited him of late, Morgan Wallen, The Japanese House, Men I Trust, and 070 Shake are all namechecked, with Annika Bennett’s A Tree Falls single an individual standout. He’s also started to switch from heavy rap music to country when he’s in the gym: “I’ll be getting fully pumped listening to Kasey Musgraves.”
He insists that success in any industry, but particularly music, depends on the artist’s dedication. “I think there’s a good portion of the new generation that come with the handout, like ‘I need to get paid first’, that never worked in the old world. The old world is ‘you always follow the art’. You have to be hungry. The artist that will play a tour for zero dollars to step into the new doorway are the artists of the new generation that will make it.”
With their own fanbase that spans all walks of life, Luke reveals an EOTS admirer who left him truly starstruck. “Sometimes it’s actors. When I met Jim Carrey, that was really cool, [he’s an] out of this world actor.” Discovering Owen Wilson was a fan of the band was a similarly pinch-me moment.
Though Steele’s notched up a few notable guest vocal spots in the last 15 years, the duo have enough clout that fans can be excused for devising fantasy features. What price an Empire Of The Sun appearance on a Gorillaz or Tame Impala track, I ask the vocalist? “Gorillaz? I think that’s a great idea,” he smiles. “[Damon Albarn] seems like the kind of guy I could get along with”.
As for Tame Impala – aka fellow Australian studio all-rounder Kevin Parker – it turns out he and Steele live in the same town. In the late 2000s, Parker was friends with Steele’s sister, and visited their parents’ house in the midst of making what would become the debut Tame Impala album, Innerspeaker. Steele’s offer to lend him equipment for the purpose was politely declined.
Considering both Steele and Littlemore have various other musical projects, I’m intrigued as to the aesthetics behind maintaining such a strong identity for Empire Of The Sun. How do the pair navigate choosing which world their music belongs in? Steele says that it’s defined by a feeling they get, where conversation isn’t necessary. Their latest record, 2024’s Ask That God, included a song written 15 years ago; only at this point did it “jump into a record”.
The gap of almost eight years between Ask That God and its predecessor Two Vines irked segments of EOTS’ fanbase. Steele points out that they toured countless countries in this time (“and spent three years searching for a chorus,” which does sound rather like the point detractors make). The duo have enough material to release six Empire Of The Sun records tomorrow, he declares. “But it’s not about that.” For the band, quality is an absolute non-negotiable, and the quest for “the Holy Grail to present to the world” is one worth investing whatever time is necessary. “Our record label hates us,” he adds, with a grin.
We broach the topic of AI, whose onslaught makes Steele think music is needed in the world “more than ever. It’s still the most powerful thing. It’s God’s breath.” However, the singer recently faced further wrath from some in the EOTS community after creating AI-generated tour visuals. For a fanbase drawn to the band’s preached philosophy of spirituality, authentic creativity, and nature, resorting to these tools feels like a complete contradiction of the band’s identity – even a betrayal.
Discussing the backlash, Steele laughs it off – “Reading through responses, it was just so incredible” – and his position seems to be that using AI for marketing is very different to doing likewise with the core craft: AI music is, at best, an outside interference. He shares an analogy by way of defending his artform’s enduring spirit: “Music is like a piece of chewing gum.” It bends and moulds, changes constantly and is digested by everyone uniquely, in a deeply personal way that technology cannot diminish. To him, it’s this irreplaceable human connection that keeps music resilient against the digital wave.
Empire Of The Sun, Cardiff Castle, Tue 23 June.
Tickets: £55. Info: here
words ELLIE EVANS
