You can’t keep a good Tasmanian down there. So it was no surprise when Nick Pohl arrived in Melbourne in 1996. Son of Hungarian immigrants and one of four brothers, all of whom play musical instruments, Nick was well practiced at having his voice heard above the din. Pairing up with the softly spoken Sammy Hooper, Nick immediately began writing and performing songs in and about Melbourne. Nick and Sam scraped together a few recordings on dictaphones, edited them on tape recorders and distributed them to friends and family. That set of recordings has become (jokingly) referred to as ‘RoadApples’ and Casino, a hidden track on the Delirium EP, is from those original recordings. This blues-folk arrangement settles into a comfortable groove and signals Nick’s budding musical talent, even if the chirping of birds in the background threatens the amateur recording. While Casino is a somewhat naïve polemic it demonstrates Nick’s capacity as a songwriter to find and explicate beauty, as he dismisses the aggressive and monolithic culture of the Crown Casino as a product of that “flame-throwing hotel”. Nick’s songwriting has developed from the RoadApple recordings, but the essential tenets can be found in Casino: as a lyricist he has emerged as both a Romantic and a Cynic, as a musician he seeks to rejuvenate folk and test its limits in a contemporary, urban environment. It was clear to anyone who heard those rough recordings that a cleaner treatment was deserved and a small clique of friends and followers began clamoring for a more professional recording.

Delirium answers these demands, and more. Nick has developed his song writing into a distinctive style. Delirium marks the end of Nick Pohl as an amateur folk musician. This album is too well written to be considered immature and too well produced to be considered amateur. There is depth and tension in Nick’s lyrics and uneasiness in describing Nick as a folk artist. Nick is moving beyond the easily developed pop-packaged performer and towards something genuine, something more easily understood, yet difficult to adequately describe. Starting with the soaring refrains of suburban saturday sound the EP moves into the falling melodies of uneasy. In ‘uneasy’ Jason Bunn supplies strings, picking up the dolorous chorus and making the song a settling piece perfect for a suburban Sunday morning. Nick’s gently strumming guitar drives ‘are you asleep’, and with Ben Milburn’s keys played through a space echo the track becomes a dreamy jaunt through the detached world of the insomniac. The title track, ‘delirium’, describes Nick’s frequent descents from serious repose to lighthearted silliness. The track is a wonderful explication of Nick’s attitude toward songwriting, highlighting the tension in Nick’s songs between Romantic and Cynic. The laughter at the beginning of ‘quite a flight’ is at once inappropriate and fundamental to Nick’s optimism. This somber post-September 11 piece urges us to “just get through the night”, while acknowledging the shocking events of that night as being both an end and a beginning: a turning point. Nick has a talent for focusing on these “turning points”, to wedge his foot in the doorway of an idea and play on both sides of an issue. This is ‘delirium’: alive and alert, detached and dreamy. It is a unique attitude that shapes a unique EP.