DOWNLOADS may have reduced legitimate sales and fashion dictates that you don't even consider the prospect, but few musicians don't at least privately entertain the notion of having the No. 1 album in the country.

In March this year it happened for Perth's Gyroscope, with their third disc, Breed Obsession, debuting atop the ARIA albums chart, and vocalist Daniel Sanders knows just where it's true value lies.

"The best thing is showing your parents," he confirms. "When they see your name above Madonna or John Butler they realise that you just might be getting somewhere and it gives them something to brag about at work. Although I'm pretty sure my mum would still prefer it if I'd become a doctor.

"This year has gone so fast that we haven't had time to think about it. It happened and then we were on the road touring, but at the time we were overwhelmed

"We don't take a lot of notice of how the music industry reacts. The main effect on us is that it spurs us on - we'd hate to have people think we're going to get lazy or rest on some pretty laurels."

After the initial euphoria, however, little changed. The band - Sanders, guitarist Zoran Trivic, bassist Brad Campbell and drummer Rob Nassif - still have to help load in their gear to shows, they still live in "little shacks in the 'burbs" of Perth and no one was able to splurge on a sports car. They still rely on merchandising sales to make ends meet and when off the road, the odd casual shift is worked. After a decade together, excess is not an option.

"It's a weird thing, spending 10 years with the same group of people," Sanders observes. "We were playing for nothing and it's grown from that and our friendship has grown from that. It's a brotherhood. No cliche - it's actually true. I'm with these three guys virtually every day. It's second nature to all of us now."

The most curious thing about the ascension of Breed Obsession was that while the band's sound has smoothed out the awkward mix of pop-punk energy and At-The-Drive-In dynamics that characterised their earlier discs, the lyrics were unconditionally bleak. Gyroscope made a No. 1 album, with a few optimistic exceptions, about the fixated and insular.

"I don't know where it stems from but on this record it definitely came out from inside me. I'm just not interested in happy love songs, which is kind of odd since I am happily married," Sanders says. "Maybe it's because I write lyrics between midnight and 6am - that can be a pretty depressing time to be working alone."

Gyroscope is now capitalising on their heightened profile - Breed Obsession achieved Gold certification last week for sales of 35,000 copies - with a comprehensive national tour. In a sign of the times their support act is veteran Kiwi rock outfit Shihad, a band that Gyroscope's members would excitedly queue to see when they were still finding their own way in the garage and barely had the legitimate ID required to get into pub shows.

Of course, fond memories are no match for the music industry's hardened customs when it comes to the headliner and the support. "We'll be letting Shihad use just eight channels of the mixing and maybe four lights," jokes Sanders, mocking a tradition that was once deadly serious in the 1980s.

Still, it's a curious occurrence for a band to consider, the idea that an inspiration might one day be below you on a bill. It's both exciting and sobering - an achievement and a portent of an inevitable future. Time, concedes Sanders, doesn't pass in a normal way when it comes to musical outfits.

"The music industry keeps you immature in a way," he admits. "You always feel young at heart - just look at the Stones. Your persona doesn't change that much either. You mature a bit and you don't go out as much but in the grand scheme of things we're still the same blokes who used to ride our pushies down to the shops."