THE LIVING END: Still Trusting Rock And Roll With SCOTT OWEN

Interview by Ali Williams
Some bands age quietly into legacy status, then there is The Living End, who appear to have treated the passing of time as a personal dare.
After decades of twisting punk, rockabilly, sharp-suited swagger and full-throttle Australian rock into something entirely their own, the band are now being welcomed into the ARIA Hall of Fame. For bass player Scott Owen, speaking with HEAVY Magazine’s Ali Williams, the honour is still landing somewhere between pride, disbelief and that very Australian instinct to not make too much of the emotional bit in case someone notices.
He admits the induction has made the band stop and reflect, which is no small task when you are part of a group that has spent most of its life moving at the speed of a getaway car with a double bass in the back seat. The Living End’s first EP arrived in the mid-’90s, the first record followed in 1998, and Scott and Chris Cheney had already been playing together since around 1990. The mathematics, as Scott cheerfully points out, are “confronting”. Fair. Nobody asked time to come in here with a calculator and start being rude.
But that long history is exactly why The Living End still matter. They were never neatly slotted into the machinery around them. In the ’90s, when Triple J was a very different beast and Australian alternative music had its own wild ecosystem, The Living End were not simply alternative. They were, in Scott’s words, “the alternative to the alternative” - a strange, sharp, highly flammable hybrid of rockabilly and punk that did not fit anywhere and therefore carved out its own corner by force.
That identity has not softened. It has become the band’s signature. 
Scott’s double bass remains one of Australian rock’s great visual and sonic weapons. It is not just an instrument in The Living End; it is part of the architecture. Alongside Chris Cheney’s famously elastic guitar work and the locked-in chemistry that only comes from surviving decades of stages, buses, hotels, rehearsals, chaos and suspiciously romantic dinners together, the band still carry a sense of occasion every time they step up. Scott jokes that he and Chris have probably had more romantic dinners together than any couple in the world. Somewhere, a relationship counsellor just threw away their notebook.
That chemistry also includes Andy Strachan, affectionately referred to by Scott as “the new guy”, despite having been in the band for around 20 years. Rock and roll timelines are ridiculous. A man can spend two decades behind the kit and still be treated like he has just wandered in with fresh ID and a lunchbox.
Swinging back to one of the year’s great live surprises: Jimmy Barnes joining The Living End onstage at the Hotel Brunswick. Scott says it was a hard secret to keep after finding out that morning, because the whole point was to blow everyone’s minds without warning. Mission accomplished. When Barnesy appears unannounced at a pub gig, that is not a cameo. That is a national incident with vocals.
For Ali, who had been in work mode in the media pit before realising she was casually talking to Jimmy Barnes himself, the moment became one of those live music memories that gets filed under: “This is why we leave the house.” It also reinforced something that runs right through the interview: the irreplaceable magic of real bodies, real instruments, sweaty venues and the shared lunacy of a crowd being lifted by noise.
That idea sits at the heart of The Living End’s current chapter. Their upcoming run carries the spirit of I Only Trust Rock N Roll, a sentiment Scott says came from the same place many of the new songs did: the strange, rattled, post-2020 world where everything suddenly felt unstable and everyone started wondering what, if anything, could still be trusted.
For Scott, the answer is simple. Rock and roll still feels real. 
Still, for all the shifts around them, The Living End’s purpose...