What inspired you to write a love letter to the 2010s internet era, and why did that particular time feel important to revisit through “All I’ve Got”?
If you know me IRL, you will know that I am constantly shouting from the rooftops about how important that time was in culture and its impact on everything today. I feel like that time signifies a really formative moment not only in my life but so many of my friends’ lives and I feel like in the music I make it’s really important that I try and give it the respect it deserves. I feel like culture, especially the heavier side of rock music that we’re around, is constantly dominated with the important narratives in men’s lives and how their formative teenage experiences influenced them. I feel like it’s definitely my mission as an artist to offer up this perspective that a lot of women may have felt is both glazed over and sometimes just seen as a “silly fangirl experience,” and dive into how important it was to all of us.
How did your own teenage experiences online — Tumblr, fandoms, the scene — shape both the lyrics and emotional tone of the song?
I wanted to draw from direct experiences and try and be as specific as possible — for example, mentioning seeing a band on a Sunday night on George St (where the Metro Theatre in Sydney is), having New Found Glory on your playlist, reading Rookie magazine. I love the idea of including these references as a personal touch but also as something listeners can insert their own specific memories of the time into.
The track captures such a specific kind of nostalgia — how did you strike the balance between sentimentality and freshness in its sound?
There’s also a lot less purposeful decision-making — we’re not sitting there with a 00s moodboard on the wall going “how can we create this?”. We’re just recreating the music that has the strongest emotional pull to us and that also comes from pop, electronic, oldies, and a ton of other stuff which gives this specific result.
Your bedroom studio setup in Enmore sounds like a time capsule of the 2000s–2010s. How did that space influence the creative process behind the EP?
We lived at home while doing our previous band, so now doing this out of home helps you really get lost in it because you’re on your own schedule entirely, and you can be as free as you want. I can walk around our kitchen with a guitar trying to think of something while Bianca tracks vocals — there’s just more freedom to move around. We can also just create a world, put books next to us, have movies playing with sound off, just turn our whole place into the vibe of the music so we just live in it and it can come out naturally.
Recording and producing the music yourselves adds a real sense of authenticity — what does DIY mean to The Admired in today’s music landscape?
Recording this EP ourselves was initially both set out as a personal challenge (having only ever worked with producers in the past) and also allowed us the space to figure out what we wanted this band to be without having to work to someone else’s timeline. We honestly really enjoy collaborating with other people but it was important to give ourselves some space away from the world to figure it all out.
There’s a clear emotional through-line between “Dancefloor” and “All I’ve Got.” How do these tracks connect to the broader story of your upcoming mini EP 3 songs?
All of these songs were written with a clear intention of not wanting to write from a perspective that was overly angsty or, for lack of a better word, sad. I think in the past I’ve fallen into patterns of writing lyrics from this “I’ve been so hard done by” perspective that I was purposefully trying to avoid this time around. I wanted to write songs that were more about romanticising these elements of life that we both love and that fascinate us as concepts — fame, nostalgia, New York, etc.
Bianca, your lyrics often weave between personal memories and cultural touchstones — how do you approach writing something that feels so universal yet specific?
I think my experiences as a teenager were really universal and shaped who I am today. I wasn’t the “coolest” person and didn’t go to crazy parties and do stuff like that, but my life revolved around being as much a part of music as possible and I feel like that was the reality for so many people my age — either through going to shows or online through things like Tumblr. I feel like the cultural touchstones of our generation are starting to creep into pop culture more and more, which is something I’m loving (particularly with Ninajirachi’s most recent album).
The Admired’s sound bridges modern pop and emo nostalgia — what artists or eras have most shaped your identity as a duo?
In terms of sound, the main references would be pretty obvious — Jimmy Eat World, The Starting Line, Motion City Soundtrack etc. All that good stuff. But we’ve always loved trying to write the catchiest songs possible and be inventive with production, which pop music has always been a space for. There are also modern bands like Mannequin Pussy, Militarie Gun, Scowl, White Reaper who just are themselves — they don’t seem fazed by what’s “cool” and let their authentic persona deeply connect with people. That’s very inspiring.
You’ve both built strong roots in Australia’s alternative scene through Grenade Jumper and beyond. How has that history informed this new chapter?
Oh, it definitely thickened our skin. Coming off of Grenade Jumper where we had a record contract, a team, and several tours lined up that we’d worked years for — and then having it all kind of dissipate overnight — there’s nothing that can hurt us now (hahaha). But going through all that gave us a way stronger sense of who we are and why we do this, so we’re no longer vulnerable to making bad choices based on anxiety.
What do you hope fans feel when they listen to “All I’ve Got” — especially those who lived through that same chaotic, heartfelt online world?
I hope that people see themselves and their experiences in the song — even if they didn’t live that exact era, I hope they can tap into their own formative experiences with music and relate to it. Hopefully it makes them tap into that invincible feeling you get when you’re so passionate about something that it takes over your life.
“Garden-Variety Grief” feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. What moment or realisation first sparked the idea for this song?I wrote the song after my dad passed away. I was pretty messed up, and I was looking around me and noticing, for the first time, really how everyone in my life seemed to be going through something heavy. Loss is this universal thing; we’ve all been through it. But we’re still here, we’re still getting up in the morning and living our lives and even finding moments of beauty in the world, while also carrying the hard stuff with us. I think that’s a pretty wonderful thing.
You’ve described the track as “a sad/happy cry on the dancefloor.” How did you balance that emotional tension, between grief and joy, in the songwriting and production process?
I’m not sure I balanced it as much as careened wildly from one to the other! I think grief and joy exist in equal parts in the album; that’s what I was trying to capture because I think that reflects life after loss. There were lots of tears in the studio, but also lots of laughs.
The song is your first release from a full album produced by Anna Laverty. What was it like collaborating with her, and how did her approach shape the sound and emotional depth of the track?
Anna was amazing. A lot of the songs are super vulnerable, so I knew I wanted to work with a producer who I felt really comfortable around. Anna is such a sensitive producer and empathetic person; she really made space for the emotions of it all. She also had tons of great ideas right from pre-production through to mixing. The process was really collaborative.
The title “Garden-Variety Grief” is both poetic and grounded. What does that phrase mean to you now, having lived with the song for a while?
It’s a phrase that gets to how grief is so ordinary, so common. My grief is nothing special; we’ve all been through loss. But of course, your own grief feels unique, even isolating, because no one is feeling exactly what you’re feeling. No one is grieving the relationship you had with that person in precisely the same way you are. So to me, grief is kind of extraordinarily ordinary.
The video, directed by Nayomi Pattuwage, captures striking imagery, lamps glowing in the dark paddock. What did that visual concept represent to you?
We wanted to capture that idea of holding joy and pain together at the same time, of feeling like, even in dark places, there are moments of light.
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You’re taking this song on a Garden Tour across Victoria, performing in community gardens. What inspired the idea of bringing your music into those open, natural spaces?
The single is about finding light in dark times. For me, the things that help me do that are community, music and nature. So I wanted to find a way to bring all these things together on the tour. And the more I started exploring, the more I realised there are countless community gardens all over the country, with people coming together to build something really positive and special. I’m just stoked I get to hang out in broad bean patches every weekend!
You’ve toured across North America and Europe and shared stages with major acts, but this series of intimate garden shows feels quite the opposite. How does performing in that kind of setting change your relationship with the audience?
It’s really different, which I love. The shows are intimate, so I usually get to chat with most people after the set. There are usually lots of dogs and kids, plus the shows are during the day, out in the sunshine and amongst all the plants and trees and flowers. The shows feel more like a conversation with the audience, rather than a one-way thing.
Grief is often something people shy away from talking about, yet this song feels like an invitation to connect through it. What do you hope listeners take away when they hear “Garden-Variety Grief”?
Grief can be so isolating; it creates a distance between you and the people around you. When my dad died, I found that a lot of people really struggled to know how to talk about their own grief, or to ask about mine. At the same time, I think there’s a strange comfort in knowing that everyone has been through hard stuff; we’re all walking around nursing loss. They’ve survived it, and so will you. Maybe if we talked about it more, it wouldn’t feel so isolating. So I guess I hope that people take away some sense of solidarity.
Looking ahead, what can you tell us about the upcoming album, and how does “Garden-Variety Grief” set the tone for what’s to come?
The record explores denial in many guises: denial of how you really feel, denial after losing a loved one, denial about the future. There are songs in the vein of Garden-Variety Grief, with that 90s-influenced indie rock feel, and then there are also some vulnerable alt-folk tracks. I hope people will find that there are moments of darkness and grief, as well as moments of light, humour and resilience.
Upcoming shows:
15 November – Springdale Community Garden Curlewis, Australia
22 November – Secret VIP show Melbourne, Australia
11 April – Mirrorball Ministries West End, Australia
Tickets and information at: https://www.annasmyrk.com/
‘Bad Ideas’ feels like both a confession and a liberation. What was the emotional spark that first led you to write it?
I suppose the emotional spark was a lyrical idea I had for the second verse, which was “it’s not my first rodeo, but I’ve got nothing to show for my broken heart”. The meaning behind that lyric is I get a little frustrated because after 20 years of doing this I am always referred to as an “emerging artist.” This is absolutely not exclusive to me, by the way, I actually think it’s indicative of how the music industry as a whole requires women to be constantly shiny and new. For instance, Sabrina Carpenter was nominated for Best New Artist at last year’s Grammys for her fifth studio album. I think by now, I’ve emerged!
Sometimes I feel down on myself because I can’t help but think that if I’d had my career in any other field outside the arts, I’d have a lot more to show financially. I have this conversation with so many friends who are, on paper, incredibly successful, but can’t, for instance, buy a flat in Melbourne. I’m aware of the irony of putting these frustrations about the reality of the music business into music!
You’ve described the song as “a cathartic release, an exorcism you can dance to.” What did that process of release look or feel like for you while writing and recording it?
The process is always the same for me. The greatest joy I ever feel creatively comes right after finishing a song when I can step back and hear it fully realised for the first time. Nothing compares to that moment. And despite the emphasis on catharsis, the actual process of writing and recording the song came relatively easily, which is not always the case in the studio. For me, I think the actual feelings of release come from the live performance
There’s a strong undercurrent of Catholic guilt and repression running through the song. How did your own experiences with those themes shape the story behind it?
Much to my Nana’s dismay, I was the first one in my family to actually not be raised with any kind of religious indoctrination. But it was all around me growing up, and for better or for worse, there are certain patterns of behaviour that I really do think are informed by those cultural attitudes, especially around guilt, shame, people pleasing – all that really cool stuff! Even if you’re not going to mass or whatever, I think it’s hard to escape these patterns; it’s literally a part of my DNA at this point. That said there’s a lot about religious themes that I’m drawn to from an aesthetic or lyrical point of view.
The production has this lush, cinematic quality — a blend of desert psychedelia and 70s warmth. What drew you toward that sound for this record?
I’ve always been pulled to a more 60s/70s sound, and my sonic references have been consistently within that era, no matter what genre of music I’m writing. This record is a lot more lyrically tender than my first album and it felt right that the music should match that tenderness. It’s a lot softer than my first record and I wanted it to sound dreamy and escapist.
You worked closely with Jules Pascoe on this track. How has your creative relationship evolved since your earlier collaborations?
We’ve been working together in some capacity for almost fifteen years now, which feels utterly absurd that so much time has passed. When we first met, we were a part of a nine piece band, I was in my early 20s and definitely at the bottom of the food chain creatively within that project (or at least that’s how it felt to me at the time!) To be blunt about it, everyone in that band who was writing music was competing with each other for songs on the record. That dynamic actually led to a lot of amazing songs being written, but I believe it was very unhealthy for the interpersonal relationships within the band.
Because we never wrote together in CBBR, I never would have guessed that we would end up writing so many songs together. Every song written for this project is a co-write between Jules and myself. I wanted to have my name attached to this project because I didn’t on my last one, but we are very much a writing team and the band is a band. I have played in bands for most of my life and it’s certainly my preferred way to create as a musician. I love co-writing with other people, don’t get me wrong it can be challenging to create this way and I’ve had it go very very bad. But I think it always yields the best rewards musically.
Your lyrics carry a mix of pain, resilience, and almost spiritual reckoning. Do you see ‘Bad Ideas’ as part of a healing journey for you?
I see all the songs off this record as a part of some kind of healing journey for me. It’s a bit of a vicious cycle, music is the thing that I’m best at. But it also causes me a lot of anxiety. So then I process that through music and it begins the cycle all over again! I actually think a lot of songwriters feel this way.
The upcoming album Souvenir explores everything from intergenerational trauma to climate grief. How does ‘Bad Ideas’ fit within that larger emotional and thematic landscape?
I don’t talk about it much but I’m 11 years sober now, and I always thought that once I stopped drinking all my negative self talk, the impulse to blow up my life or do the destructive thing would disappear, but it really hasn’t. Instead, I’m trying this new thing where instead of trying to numb the feelings, I just allow them to exist, which is part of what I’m trying to convey with Bad Ideas.
You’ve been part of some incredible musical projects, from The Bangin’ Rackettes to your acclaimed debut. How do you feel you’ve grown as a songwriter and performer since then?
Everything that I do as a writer and as a performer I can trace back to CBBR. I’d been playing and writing songs for years, but joining that band took things to a completely new level. Quite literally overnight, I went from living at home and working a retail job to having to quit my job to go on tour, make a record and play Falls Festival all within about a five-week period!.
It was a baptism by fire, and I learned so much about how to tour, how to perform, how to harmonise, how to dance and how to write a great backing vocal hook. None of which I had ever done until I joined that band.
A songwriter I admire a lot is Carol King and she got her start writing soul/pop music and for girl groups (Most famously for Aretha ). I’ve been thinking about her record ‘Tapestry’, which is a huge sonic influence for me…It’s obviously a folk/rock n roll record, but if you listen to how the songs are arranged, you can hear her background in soul within the music. I think once you have an understanding of how to write for a vocal group, it becomes the musical foundation for everything you do, it certainly is for me. Those elements of soul, girl group and pop arrangements are what I build on as a songwriter, no matter what genre I’m writing, and I owe that foundation to Clairy Browne and The Banging Rackettes.
The single launch at Grace Darling marks a new chapter. What kind of energy or atmosphere do you hope to create at that show?
I really want the Grace Darling show to feel transcendent and communal. This record has so much emotional weight behind it, and I want the night to feel cathartic but also celebratory.
You’ve said this record is about “rapture, rebirth, and communion with the ghosts of your past.” What does that rebirth look like for Ruby Jones right now?
Rebirth, for me, looks like making peace with my past and stepping into music with joy again. I took a long break from playing live last year. I had some issues with my health that took a long time to get to the bottom of and then I had a family member diagnosed with terminal illness who passed away. I needed to step away from music at that point and return when the moment felt right. I’m so excited about this next record, it’s the music I’m most proud of and I can’t wait for everyone to finally hear it.
‘Bad Ideas’ Single Launch
Saturday 22 November
Grace Darling, Collingwood
Support: Hollie Joyce
Doors: 8 pm
Tickets: events.humanitix.com/ruby-jones-bad-ideas-single-launch
What drew you to explore the idea of myth-making as a way to understand modern life, and how did that shape the tone of the record?
We all mythologise our own lives to some degree and so I was trying to really get to the heart of my own life and how I view the wider world through the medium of story driven songwriting on this album. Myths contain age old wisdom, allegory and metaphor that are useful if you’re trying to find your way so I was tapping into that in one sense. It shaped the tone of the record as I feel there’s an arc from confusion to a sense of acceptance and clarity.
You describe Modern Mythologies as both personal and universal — what moments in your own life most influenced its creation?
I’m constantly writing and I’m very grateful that I have music as a guide. It’s more like a continuation, a conversation I hope to be having as long as I’m alive, pursuing ideas and songs to document the journey. Specifically I feel this album was me searching for something deeper, meaning, purpose, a letting go of certain struggles or at least a more compassionate approach to them which in turn helps me be more compassionate to humanity.
How did confronting your past struggles, particularly with addiction and self-perception, translate into your songwriting on this album?
It was freeing but a raw thing to document. Ultimately it pushed me to be more focused, my love for being alive and for being creative outweighs my self destructive tendencies and there’s healing in the process of unraveling deep fears and insecurities. There is a mystical element to songwriting and inspiration that I wouldn’t want to totally analyse but when you step into your power and face your self there’s hope to be had in that choosing of courage.
There’s a tension between chaos and wonder running through these songs — how did you find balance between the two during the creative process?
Chaos is a creative force if you can find that balance. At one time chaos was the dominant force in my life and so it was like wild fire. I find balance in general now by being able to cultivate the quiet time I need in nature or in connection with others.
The record connects folklore and meme culture, the sacred and the everyday. How did you approach blending those worlds without losing authenticity?
It’s all about perspective, the ordinary can be profound if you wake up on the right side of the bed! My head works like that, I love connecting threads and seeing new patterns emerging. The memes of today were the slang graffitied onto a wall in ancient times, it’s all an attempt at communication.
What role did collaboration play in bringing this album to life, especially working with Gavin Glass, Peter Baldwin, and Cian Synnott?
Working with three producers was accidental and organic it wasn’t a conscious decision. Timing and circumstance just played their part and that was beautiful because I got to tune into three different environments at three different stages of the process. Each one was of equal importance & I appreciate all three experiences. It’s funny how things unfolded but it all feels right to me in hindsight, giving the album an almost anthology feel. 16 songs!
Your lyrics often read like poetry — do you begin with words or with melody, and how do the two evolve together?
Thank you, I usually sit down and start writing and the words start making their own music or they suggest a melody in their rhythm and flow that I can then elaborate on. It’s always been important to me that they can stand on their own unaccompanied if being read by someone and that they contain a multitude of things beneath the surface level.
You’ve said the process of creating brings you closer to reality. How has that philosophy changed your relationship with music over the years?
It brings me closer to reality in a sense that it brings me into the present moment where I feel awake and truly vibrant. Life happens and we all make mistakes, have our struggles and want to escape from feelings. I’m just glad I have a means of connecting and expressing with the world through the work. It means too that I look for that identification in other people, places and things.
What do you hope listeners take away from Modern Mythologies — especially those navigating their own chaos and renewal?
I hope it’s useful in some way and may spark a conversation with the person who may then look at a particular thing that’s affecting them in a new way. I hope it sparks a creative idea in someone else and they follow it because in my experience, that’s a wonderful path to explore.
After everything you’ve explored in this album, what kind of story do you think you’ll tell next?
I am open hearted and open minded for what comes next, always hopeful. I’d like to keep experimenting with different styles of music and writing! Thank you for the questions!
Upcoming tour dates for David Keenan:
Tickets avail at https://davidkeenan.com/
2025
• 6 Nov – Irish Film Institute (IFI), Dublin
Address: 6 Eustace Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2, Ireland.
• 7 Nov – John Lee’s Bar & Venue, Tullamore
Address: Church St., Tullamore, Co. Offaly, R35 Y161, Ireland.
• 15 Nov – The Millhouse, Slane (final show of Chasing Myth tour + Hill of Tara visit)
Address: The Old Mill, Slane, Co. Meath, C15 FFK7, Ireland.
• 21 Nov – The Devonshire Arms Soho, London
Address: 17 Denman Street, Soho, London W1D 7HW, United Kingdom.
• 22 Nov – Rough Trade Denmark Street, London
Address: 24 Denmark Street, London WC2H 8NJ, United Kingdom.
• 26 Nov – Whelan’s / Spindizzy Records (Irish album launch night — live + in-store)
Address: 25 Wexford Street, Dublin 2, Ireland.
2026
• 13 Jan – Waterfront Hall, Belfast – as part of the Your Roots Are Showing / Folk In Fusion conference
Address: 2 Lanyon Place, Belfast BT1 3WH, Northern Ireland. https://www.waterfront.co.uk/what-s-on/folk-in-fusion/
Paitra’s debut EP is a vibrant fusion of the genres that have shaped her musical journey: folk, rock, psychedelic, singer-songwriter, and pop. “I’ve never felt drawn to sticking within a single sound or box; each song brings out a different side of me, and I like to follow where the feelings and sounds lead,” she explains. Originally from Timmins, Ontario, Paitra grew up immersed in the rich harmonies and storytelling of ‘70s rock and folk legends like Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, Led Zeppelin, and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. After moving to Toronto in 2017, she began blending these timeless influences with modern textures, experimenting with a sound that is both nostalgic and unmistakably her own. Over a decade of playing in various bands set the stage for her solo project in 2023, which led to the creation of this carefully crafted EP, reflecting her range and the freedom she finds in music.
The making of the EP was an adventure in itself. Paitra spent nearly a year searching for the right producer before discovering Tyler Fogerty (Hearty Har, John Fogerty), whose vision matched hers perfectly. “The very next day, the California wildfires began. We had to evacuate that night, and for nearly two weeks, we were separated amid the chaos and uncertainty,” she recalls. Yet, once it was safe, they returned to complete the sessions, bringing together the incredible musicians who helped realize her vision. The result is a genre-blurring collection that balances soft, introspective moments with bold, playful bursts of energy, blending modern alternative-pop with nostalgic California rock. From the EP’s first single, “Too Stuck (In My Head),” to the whimsical dual release of “Love Calls”/“I’m Your Answer” and the ethereal, slightly psychedelic title track, A Universal Feeling offers a glimpse into every facet of Paitra’s artistry—raw vulnerability, playful confidence, and a distinct voice that’s entirely her own.
Your new album Electric Transport feels like a heartfelt return to form. What was the turning point that made you decide to get back into music after losing your mentors?
Spencer P. Jones & Brian Henry Hooper had always been there with me on my musical journey, so after they died, I had to reframe what my music would look like without them. Whilst my grief overshadowed everything for a while, I worked hard to reach a point where the reminder of their memory didn’t trigger sadness but instead made me want to go on and do what they loved doing.
This process took nearly two years, but once I started writing again amid the COVID lockdowns, I never looked back.
You were mentored by Spencer P. Jones early in your career. What’s something he taught you that still guides your songwriting today?
He taught me early on that I hate tequila that’s for sure haha.
When you saw Spencer play as much as I did, it’s obvious to anyone how great he was at working a room and getting the audience along for the ride. I have absolutely tried to do that in my own way as a performer, and one of the best pieces of advice he ever gave me regarding that was: “play to the people listening”.
However, it was more the life lessons that Spencer taught me, which guide me as a musician.
The man badly wanted to live, and he had a lot to live for, but it was years of alcohol and drug abuse which took its toll in the end and finally caught up to him.
All he wanted during his final years was to be able to play a gig and do what he loved.
We’re both the kinds of people who were put on Earth to do this and only this, so seeing that taken away from him, galvanised in me that I cannot let addictions, illness, or anything stop me from playing music.
Whilst I’ve had my own bumps in the road, I feel that I am truly turning that into actions these days. I just hope wherever he is, he’s proud.
How did forming The Boundary Riders change the way you approached writing and recording this record?
Joe and James showed me all the beautiful possibilities within my songs.
The songs all started life as solo country songs, but the way that the guys rocked them up (and in some cases quietened them down) meant I was always surprised and energised by their takes on them.
It’s made what we do live and, in the studio, much more of a team effort.
You’ve mentioned that the album captures the raw energy of your live set — what were some key moments in the studio that made that happen?
It was less about moments, and more about an atmosphere of comfort where we could relax into the recording of each song.
Our drummer James’s studio in Coburg was the perfect place for this to happen as we could all tune out if we needed to. For example, we could have a beer and watch the footy if a song wasn’t working, or simply just hang out for a while if we were all a bit tired after work and needed to wind down.
“Tramways In My Mind” has been with you for a decade. What made you feel like now was the right time to finally release it?
‘Tramways’ was a song which always needed a band to make it work, so when I got The Boundary Riders together, I immediately knew that the three of us could make that song absolutely rock. After a few rehearsals it was a no-brainer that it would be on the next album.
There’s a strong sense of nostalgia and place in your lyrics. How important is Melbourne — and its trams — to your identity as an artist?
Melbourne raised me along with my Mum, Dad, and Granny.
This city is amazing, fun, poetic, and has influenced every aspect of who I am.
Whilst yes, Melbourne is a big part of my artistic identity, there is a pragmatism to my references, as I have lived here and only here for my entire life.
It’s my only backdrop, and if I tried to reference anywhere else with the same sense of nostalgia, it would be fake and forced.
The trams and nostalgia attached to them are a funny one, as it’s all to do with comfort and happiness.
I have ADHD and (pending an expensive screening test) am probably autistic too.
When your brain is wired as mine is, your favourite subjects tend to be things which represent when you felt true comfort and safety as a kid.
My moment of safety, and its associated subject, is Trams.
School hadn’t started yet, so there was nothing and no one to tell me my brain was differently put together in how it saw the world.
Riding on the old green and yellow MET livery W class trams with my family and dreaming of being a Tram conductor, are moments I return to as an adult when I’m feeling lost, as they are truly beautiful and comforting memories.
“The Uncles” is a touching tribute to Spencer P. Jones and Brian Henry Hooper. What emotions did you experience while writing and recording it?
A sense of release in all honesty.
Songwriting is a catharsis for me, so it was deeply therapeutic writing and recording it.
Immortalising them in a song also just seemed like the right thing to do. If someone listens to that song and then delves into their back catalogues, then I truly feel like I have helped keep their memories alive.
You explore everything from heartbreak to writer’s block to growing old. Was there a particular message or emotion you wanted listeners to take away from the album as a whole?
This album is incredibly eclectic, so when it comes to the themes in particular songs, there is no real continuity.
But from the get-go, I wanted to make an album which evokes the records I adore.
There are bits of Hi-Fi Way by You Am I, John Prine’s first album, Paul Westerberg’s solo stuff, Robyn Hitchcock’s esoteric strangeness, and Spencer’s work floating around in ‘Electric Transport’, that I wanted included as a loving tribute to these seminal artists.
Your music blends alt-country, punk, and rock in a very natural way. How do you balance those influences without overthinking the sound?
It’s something which shouldn’t even come to mind when you’re writing or recording music. For it to sound honest, spontaneous, and like you, then you need to throw caution to the wind, and just let a song happen and speak for itself.
You’ve been part of the Australian indie scene since you were 15. Looking back now, what keeps you inspired to keep creating and performing?
I can safely say that at 33 years of age I love writing songs, singing, and performing more than I ever have before.
I am incredibly grateful to music as it’s given me purpose, identity, community, and belonging.
The only place on this planet, where a neurodivergent wreck like me feels normal, is on stage singing my songs, and I am very lucky to have a wife, family, and friends who all understand that completely.
There is a necessity to what I do, and that’s why I want to be on tour all the time and make a living off this. The world is quite hostile to differently wired folks like me and we are generally forced to adapt and mask, instead of being ourselves.
This is a survival mode tactic.
In music, I can thrive on my terms alone and eschew every mask I have.
ALBUM LAUNCH TOUR
JULES SHELDON – SOLO AND WITH THE BOUNDARY RIDERS
I also think there was a lot more unknown when I was going into the studio. Which is fun. Feels very exploratory.
When listeners reach the final track, “Song For A Ghost,” what do you hope lingers with them after the album ends?
AL MATCOTT AND THE FOREVER BAND
ALBUM LAUNCH
Friday November 14 @ Stay Gold, Brunswick VIC
w/ Alex Hamilton And His Band + Tambourine Jesus
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What first drew you toward the darker, more introspective territory explored in “Occulent,” and how did that vision evolve during its creation?
Lyrically, this subject is hard for me to get away from – and I’m not sure I want to. While it’s dark and difficult at times, it’s also a way I continue to remember my friend who I lost: what we went through, both the incredible fun we had and the dark last few years while he battled cancer. Musically, it all came very organically. My favourite songs always seem to click the fastest.
How did collaborating with Simon Grove and Mitta Norath influence the sonic weight and emotional intensity of the track?
Mitta is just such a great energy to have around while recording – super passionate and always keeping the vibes high. Simon was integral in developing our sound. We knew we didn’t want to go down the same path as a lot of metalcore bands. We wanted something polished yet raw at its heart. Simon made that happen for us and delivered something beyond our expectations.
“Occulent” touches on illness, mortality, and the fragility of connection — what personal or shared experiences inspired those themes?
It really stems from a relationship with my best mate who passed away a few years ago. His battle with cancer was horrific, yet his life was so colourful and joyous. There’s a real dichotomy there. I remember the crazy and loving relationship we had as mates, but also how tough it got towards the end and how that affected everyone differently. I know for other members of the band, this subject hits differently because of their own experiences with loss.
There’s a haunting beauty in how the song balances heaviness and vulnerability — was that contrast something you consciously aimed for?
I think that’s something we’re always conscious of. Some of the members of nightdive are the best at their craft – I saw that as a personal admirer of their skill. However, everyone in the band is constantly focused on emotion and feel rather than showing off technique. That’s something I find really special about this band and the musicians I’m playing with.
As a band that only formed this year, how have you managed to carve such a defined sound and identity so quickly?
What we learned pretty quickly is that we share a lot of common interests in the music we love and grew up on. There was about a two-month period where we really dialed in our sound and found what works for us. Fortunately, we’ve all been around music for a while, so we know how to work with each other to get the best results.
Your first show as nightdive is coming up, supporting Ladders on Tables. How does it feel to debut so strong so early in your journey?
It feels amazing. The response has been really incredible – not just from an industry standpoint, but from people who genuinely seem to be enjoying what we’re doing. That means so much to us.
How do you each approach songwriting when dealing with deeply emotional or existential subject matter like this?
I think it’s just an opportunity to explore your own grief, or to take a step back and look at things from multiple points of view to understand how we all deal with things differently. In that way, it’s really cathartic.
Your sound evokes comparisons to Deftones and Thornhill — what influences do you draw from, both musically and beyond music itself?
We’re all kids of alternative metal and grew up on it, so there’s a deep love there. But we’ve also explored other genres like indie rock and EDM, so there are multiple influences in our music that happen organically. That’s really what makes all musicians unique in the end – no two people have the exact same taste.
How do you see the band evolving as you continue working on your upcoming four-track collection?
Every song, or collection of songs, seems to take us closer to understanding who we are as a band and where we want to go sonically – at least in the short term. Who knows where we’ll end up.
What do you hope listeners take away from “Occulent”?
We hope it hits on an emotional level and gives people an outlet for some of the tough things going on in their lives.
SHOWS
WED 12TH NOV – KING ST WAREHOUSE, NEWCASTLE (18+)
SUPPORTING LADDERS ON TABLES
THURS 13TH NOV – CROWBAR, SYDNEY (18+)
SUPPORTING LADDERS ON TABLES WITH DAYS LIKE THESE
Up Until Now feels like a confident leap forward from your earlier work. How did making a full-length album change your approach to songwriting and sound?
It was really exciting to have the opportunity to release a full length album as supposed to releasing singles one at a time. It meant I had to think about which songs would work well together both sonically and thematically. These songs were all written in the past couple of years so it was really a matter of choosing which 8 I wanted out in the world.
There’s a real 90s indie energy running through these tracks — who or what shaped that direction most while you were recording?
Yes definitely, I love Britpop and British guitar music so I think that’s always been a heavy influence on my sound. I write all of my songs on acoustic guitar to start with and I think that traditional songwriting method is reflected in how they turn out.
You tracked the record in Notting Hill. What was special about that studio and the team that helped bring the songs to life?
I love Notting Hill, it’s such a fun and interesting place to be in London. Fun fact – my album photoshoot was done outside some of the coloured houses there. I recorded the whole album at AudioHaus where I really enjoy working. I had a lot of fun recording the three singles there last year and knew that’s where I wanted to finish the record.
Your lyrics move between new love, heartbreak and everything in between. Was there a particular moment or relationship that tied the record together emotionally?
I’m aware. I think the hopeful and optimistic themes of the first track ‘A Lucky Day’ are the ones I relate to most currently but I wanted to include the more tearful heartbreak tracks like ‘I Can’t Do It’ to show a wide range of feelings which people will relate to at different relationship stages.
You started gigging at just sixteen in Reading pubs. How did those early experiences shape the performer and writer you are today?
I think cultivating my sound through live pub gigs and open mic nights means I always put the actual bones of the song first as supposed to production sounds and effects. I’d like to learn more about music production and writing in alternative ways but I think I’ll always be guitar focused.
There are flashes of Oasis and The Cranberries in the sound, yet it still feels distinctly yours. How do you balance nostalgia with originality?
I think it’s probably to do with the range of music I listen to. I love classic gems from past decades but I like to stay on top of what’s trending whether that be on TikTok or the charts. I think modern pop music is really exciting at the moment and I hope that influences my own songs.
Which song from Up Until Now feels closest to who you are right now, and why?
I really love ‘Skeptical’. I wrote that song ages ago and to now be able to listen to it with a full band production is amazing. It’s the album track I’m probably pushing the most in my promotion. I think it’s a song most people can relate to as it discusses being wary of changes in your life/ relationship status.
Your singles So Sky Blue, Hard to Take and Movie Night all found strong support from BBC Introducing and Amazing Radio. How has that early recognition influenced your confidence as an artist?
I had support for the lead single from this album ‘So Sky Blue’ from BBC Introducing which was lovely. The chance to hear my music on radio never gets old. It definitely makes me feel confident in what I’m doing and that people still want to hear this style of music. I’ll keep going then.
You’ve played everywhere from Brighton to Glasgow — how does the live energy feed back into your writing?
Yes, I love to travel and perform. I was at the open mic at King Tuts in Glasgow earlier this year. I love feedback from the audience about which songs in my set stood out to them. It definitely influences my decision on what to record and release. Just seeing other artists perform at these sorts of shows inspires me to write and tell more stories.
Now that Up Until Now is out in the world, what do you want listeners to feel or take away after hearing it front to back?
I hope people enjoy listening to my album and feel the kaleidoscope of emotions on it. I think indie has a reputation for being under the radar but I hope it can reach people who may discover that they enjoy guitar music more than they originally thought.
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My relationship with music has really evolved alongside my life. I started in classical training and ensemble work, where it was all about discipline, technique, and blending with others — which taught me structure and respect for the craft. As a child and teenager, I was singing jazz, country and Rock n Roll, but as I’ve grown and gone through my own experiences — love, heartbreak, resilience — music has become something far more personal. With ‘The Songbook of My Heart,’ I stepped fully into storytelling. It’s not about perfection anymore — it’s about truth. Every note, every lyric comes from lived experience. It’s my voice, my emotions, my story. I think that’s the beauty of music — it grows with you. Where once I sang to perform, now I sing to connect, to heal, and to remind others that they’re not alone in their own stories.
What does this album represent for you on a personal level, and how does it reflect the chapters of your life you’ve lived through?
This album represents a lifetime of love, heartbreak, loss, growth, and ultimately — self-rediscovery. Every song reflects a chapter of my life — the moments where I lost myself, the times I had to rebuild, and the beautiful, unexpected ways love kept showing up — even when I thought it was gone for good.
‘The Songbook of My Heart’ is really about finding strength in vulnerability. It’s about acknowledging the pain but choosing to keep your heart open anyway. For me, it’s a closing of some chapters and the beginning of a new one — one where I finally sing for me, not for anyone else. When I listen back, I hear the woman I’ve become — softer, wiser, braver — and I’m proud of her. This album is my truth, wrapped in music.
You’ve described Linda Ronstadt’s music as a companion — how has her work influenced your voice and the way you interpret songs in this project?
Linda’s music has been a companion to me through so many stages of my life. She had this incredible ability to move between strength and vulnerability — and that really shaped the way I approach my own singing. When I was creating ‘The Songbook of My Heart,’ I wasn’t trying to be Linda — no one ever could. Linda Ronstadt is her own force, her own magic. I don’t compare myself to her because I’m here to bring my own truth — my own authentic voice and lived experience.
For me, this project was about honouring her artistry while also allowing who I am to come through — the woman, the heart, and the stories behind every note. In many ways, Linda helped me find the courage to be myself.
When reimagining these iconic tracks, how do you strike a balance between honouring their legacy and infusing them with your own soul and perspective?
When I approached these songs, I wanted to honour their legacy with the deepest respect — because they’ve meant so much to so many people, including me. But I also knew I couldn’t just recreate what Linda had already done so perfectly. My responsibility was to find my truth within them.
So, I spent a lot of time sitting with the lyrics, really connecting to the stories and how they related to my own life. I asked myself, “What does this line mean to me now, as the woman I’ve become?”
What do you hope audiences feel as they experience these songs live?
When people come to my shows, I really want them to feel — to go on the journey with me. I want them to feel how I lived through these experiences, because every song in ‘The Songbook of My Heart’ is a true reflection of my life. Each one carries a story — the hurt, the tears, the love, and the strength that shaped who I am today. My hope is that the audience not only connects emotionally but also feels recharged — like the music has helped them release something or remember their own resilience. These songs were my way of healing, and now I want to share that energy so others can feel a little more open, a little more hopeful, and reminded that no matter what we go through, our hearts can always sing again.
Many of these tracks are tied to pivotal moments in your life. Is there one song in particular that holds a deeper meaning than the others?
Yes — ‘Long, Long Time’ holds the deepest meaning for me. It really represents the closure of my marriage and that experience of loving someone who doesn’t truly see you. There’s a heartbreak in that song that’s so honest — it’s the quiet kind of pain that stays with you long after the moment has passed.
When I sing it now, it’s no longer about sadness; it’s about acceptance. It’s about finding peace and strength in letting go. That song became a way of closing one chapter of my life and opening another — one where I love myself first, and where I can sing from a place of truth, not longing.
You’ve channelled your platform into powerful advocacy — from literacy to ovarian cancer research. How do these causes intertwine with your work as an artist?
My main focus has always been literacy — because I believe it’s the foundation for empowerment. For me, literacy isn’t just about reading; it’s about giving children and women the tools to find their voice, to make informed choices, and to shape their own futures. That’s why my work combines reading, music, wellness, and financial literacy — they’re all forms of expression and self-belief.
At the same time, I’ve lost someone very dear to me to ovarian cancer, and I have close friends who’ve been affected. It’s deeply personal — and as a mother of girls and a son. I feel a responsibility to do whatever I can to raise awareness and support research. For me, advocacy and artistry go hand in hand. Music connects the heart, and advocacy gives that connection purpose. Together, they’re how I try to make a difference.
After stepping away for personal reasons, you’ve spoken about finding your voice again. What has that process of rediscovery taught you about yourself?
Stepping away from music was one of the hardest but most necessary decisions I’ve ever made. During that time, I had to face a lot — to heal, to rebuild, and to find the courage to trust my own voice again.
That process of rediscovery taught me resilience — that even when life quiets you, your true voice never disappears, it just waits for you to be ready. It also reminded me to never give up on a dream, no matter how far away it might seem.
Coming back to music has been about freedom and self-belief — realising that my voice isn’t just something I sing with, it’s who I am. And once you reclaim that, no one can take it from you.
Beyond this project, you’re working on a full-length album of original songs. How will that body of work expand on the story you’re telling now?
The full-length album of original songs is really the next chapter of my story. ‘The Songbook of My Heart’ was about honouring where I’ve been — the loves, the losses, and the lessons that shaped me. But this new body of work is about where I’m going. It expands on that story by moving from reflection to rebirth — it’s more confident, more open, and filled with hope. These songs come from a place of strength and freedom, written from my own experiences and truths. It’s about stepping fully into my voice as a songwriter and a woman — still tender, still real, but now completely my own. If The Songbook was about healing, this next album is about becoming. So, watch this space!
Looking ahead, how do you see music and activism continuing to shape your legacy — and what impact do you hope your art leaves behind?
Looking ahead, I see music and activism continuing to work hand in hand. For me, art has never been separate from purpose — it’s a way to shine a light, to empower, and to create change.
Through my focus on literacy — empowering children and women through reading, music, wellness, and financial understanding — I hope to help others find their own voices, just as I’ve found mine. And through supporting ovarian cancer research, I honour those I’ve lost and protect the next generation, including my girls.
Ultimately, I hope my legacy is one of impact and authenticity — that people feel I used my platform to lift others, to remind them of their strength, and to never give up on their dreams. If my art can touch hearts, open minds, and leave the world a little better, then I’ve done what I came here to do.

