Every Friday, Sound Under curates the best of Australian alternative music: fresh releases, overlooked gems, rising artists, and songs worth spending real time with.

Whether you’re driving down the coast, walking through the city late at night, or simply tired of playlists chosen by algorithms, these picks are built differently. This isn’t about hype cycles or whatever is trending for 48 hours. It’s about music with replay value, personality, and something real inside it.

No artist is too early. No sound is too left-field, and no scene is too small.

Here’s this week’s Picks:

Phins Up — Phil and The Blanks

Phil and The Blanks feel like the kind of band that exist purely because making serious music all the time would be incredibly boring. Even their own band description paints them as “a bunch of chancers chasing a pointless dream,” which honestly tells you almost everything you need to know about the energy they bring.

“PHINS UP” might be one of the funniest and most strangely charming songs we have heard in a while. Built around a modern love story and an oddly sincere tribute to the Redcliffe Dolphins rugby league team, the track feels like it should not work at all yet somehow completely does.

The hook especially carries this glossy early-2000s reggae-pop energy that weirdly recalls Mysterious Girl, while the playful storytelling and deliberately unserious tone bring back memories of Colt 45 era comedy rap and pub storytelling.

The funniest part is that the band themselves describe it as “reggae has probably never sounded so white,” and honestly, that self-awareness is exactly what makes the song work. Underneath all the silliness is a band that clearly understands hooks, personality, and how to make a track feel genuinely fun rather than forced.

There is also something very Australian about “PHINS UP.” The references to local rugby culture, the slightly awkward charm, the loose storytelling, the feeling that the entire song could soundtrack either a beach party or a drunken pub singalong after a Dolphins game — it all feels incredibly specific in the best way possible.

Fun 4 You — Charli Lucas

This is one of our favourite songs from this week’s picks. Charli Lucas feels like the kind of pop artist who understands that great songwriting is not always about saying the most complex thing possible, but about capturing emotions in a way that feels painfully familiar.

Between the storytelling, the composition, and the subtle emotional tension running underneath the production, “Fun 4 You” ends up feeling far heavier than its bright indie-pop exterior initially suggests.

Sonically, the song feels upbeat, catchy, and almost carefree at times, but underneath that sits the heavy ache of sudden heartbreak and emotional confusion. The entire track feels built around that strange phase after a breakup where people convince themselves they are moving on while quietly falling apart underneath it all.

Most importantly though, the song just feels incredibly well constructed. Charli Lucas clearly understands how to build emotional tension within pop songwriting without sacrificing replay value, and that balance is exactly what makes “Fun 4 You” so effective.

Trocadero — Ricky Neil Jr.

“TROCADERO” feels like the kind of indie-pop song that completely pulls you in through its energy before you even realise how emotionally heavy it actually is.

Sonically, the track leans heavily into dance-pop and disco-inspired textures, filled with movement, groove, and this glossy nightlife atmosphere that makes it incredibly easy to get lost inside. It is the kind of song that almost tricks you into dancing through emotional emptiness.

What makes the track so compelling though is the tension sitting underneath all that brightness.

Ricky Neil Jr. described the song as being about “how badly I want new stuff but how lonely I get when I realise the things that make me feel safe and loved aren’t there,” and that emotional contradiction becomes the entire heart of the track.

The excitement of wanting more, buying more, chasing comfort through material things — only to suddenly realise none of it actually fills the emotional space you were trying to escape from.

The result is a track that feels equally suited for a late-night dancefloor or a lonely walk home afterwards, which is probably exactly why it works so well.

Those Shoes You March In — Gigi.

We recently spoke about Public Figures and how their debut EP Figure It Out! felt like a band arriving with far more confidence and identity than most acts usually do. There was already a strong sense of tension, personality, and emotional instinct running through those songs, particularly in the way they balanced sharp punk energy with vulnerability.

What makes “Those Shoes You March In” so interesting then is hearing a completely different side of Gigi Argiro outside of that band environment.

While Public Figures thrive on urgency and confrontation, this debut solo release feels far more introspective and emotionally exposed. Rooted heavily in the 90s alternative rock and guitar-driven songwriting that shaped them growing up, the track carries a warmth and emotional openness that feels deeply personal.

Lyrically and emotionally, “Those Shoes You March In” feels centred around self-discovery, relationships, and the uncomfortable process of growing into yourself.

“Those Shoes You March In” feels like the beginning of an artist allowing people to see a side of themselves that perhaps did not fully fit within the framework of their other projects — and that honesty is exactly what makes the track resonate.

Invisible Man — The Beefs

There is something very distinctly Australian about the core idea behind “Invisible Man.” The song revolves around a prawn fisherman lurking around in the dark when he is not working, but underneath that specific imagery is a much broader reflection on people who live outside normal routines — nightshift workers, FIFO workers, and the kind of people who quietly keep things moving while the rest of the world sleeps.

What makes the track hit so well though is that The Beefs channel it through this classic rock energy that feels rugged, loose, and incredibly alive. The guitars throughout the track are fantastic, carrying that warm, driving sound that instantly makes you want to turn the volume up louder than you probably should.

There is also something cinematic about “Invisible Man.” The song genuinely feels like the soundtrack to somebody drifting through empty streets, truck stops, pubs, highways, and late-night worksites while everybody else is asleep.

More than anything though, this is just one of those songs built for long drives. Windows down, music loud, somewhere between exhaustion and freedom. The Beefs understand exactly how to capture that feeling, and that is what makes “Invisible Man” such an enjoyable listen.

Every Friday, Sound Under spotlights the best alternative music beneath the surface.

Got a track we should hear?
Tag @soundunderau on Instagram or send us a DM.

Every Friday, Sound Under curates the best of Australian alternative music: fresh releases, overlooked gems, rising artists, and songs worth spending real time with.

Whether you’re driving down the coast, walking through the city late at night, or simply tired of playlists chosen by algorithms, these picks are built differently. This isn’t about hype cycles or whatever is trending for 48 hours. It’s about music with replay value, personality, and something real inside it.

No artist is too early. No sound is too left-field, and no scene is too small.

Here’s this week’s Picks:

Raindrops — Headwreck

Headwreck feel like genuine stars in the making. The Brisbane-based nu-metalcore band have been quietly building a cult-like following over the last few years, and once you hear the music, it becomes pretty obvious why.

They understand something a lot of heavy bands forget: aggression alone is not enough. The songs still need movement, personality, and moments people actually want to come back to.

That balance is where Headwreck really thrive.

“Raindrops” is chaotic, explosive, and packed with energy, but underneath all the heaviness is a strong sense of groove and melody that stops the track from becoming one-dimensional. The band know exactly when to hit hard and when to pull things back into something more hook-driven.

The breakdowns throughout the song are some of the most satisfying we have heard from this lane in a while, but what really makes the track stick is the contrast between those heavier moments and the vocal harmonies layered throughout. Even the hook carries this huge melodic quality that gets trapped in your head almost immediately.

What makes Headwreck connect beyond just heavy music audiences is that they never let the music become overly self-serious. Even at their heaviest, there is still bounce, swagger, and fun inside the chaos.

If they keep refining this sound the way they have been, it genuinely feels like Headwreck are going to become one of the breakout heavy bands in Australia over the next few years.

Heartless — South Summit

South Summit have quietly become one of the most interesting bands coming out of Western Australia right now. What makes them stand out is how naturally they blend reggae, indie rock, hip hop, alternative, and pop influences into something that still feels cohesive and unmistakably theirs.

“Heartless,” the fourth single from their upcoming album Run It Back (dropping June 12), feels like another strong example of that versatility. The music video, filmed at the summit of Bluff Knoll — one of Western Australia’s highest mountains — perfectly matches the emotional openness running through the song itself.

“Heartless” works because of the tension at its centre.

Lyrically, the song leans heavily into emotional fallout, regret, distance, and the aftermath of a relationship slowly collapsing.

“I blame myself, but you already know”
“I gave my soul, but it still feels cold”

The lyrics carry the weight of heartbreak, but musically the song moves in a completely different direction. Instead of leaning into sadness sonically, South Summit build the track around uplifting melodies, groove-heavy production that almost feels danceable.

In a way, the track flips the traditional heartbreak formula on its head. It becomes less about emotional collapse and more about surviving it.

The chorus especially captures that emotional duality beautifully.

Interestingly, this was also the first song the band began working on for the upcoming album, and after hearing all the singles released so far, this still remains our favourite drop from the project.

Song for Steven — Sonic Reducer

Australia’s punk scene is ridiculous right now. There are so many great bands emerging across the country, and Sonic Reducer are definitely one of the ones we are most excited about at the moment.

Based out of Canberra, the band have been quietly building momentum through a string of strong singles and EP releases, and it already feels like they are moving toward something much bigger.

If you grew up listening to bands like Ramones or Sex Pistols, there is a very good chance Sonic Reducer will connect with you instantly.

Even though “Song for Steven” does not fully sound like a traditional punk track sonically, it still carries that same spirit underneath it all: looseness, emotional honesty, awkwardness, and youthful energy.

“You say you know what I’m on about
But I’m still trying to find what to say”

That line especially feels like the emotional core of the song. There is frustration in it, but also vulnerability — the feeling of not fully understanding yourself yet while everyone around you expects clarity.

“Don’t listen to your mother
Don’t spend your life trying to live it for another”

That line carries the classic punk spirit of individuality and freedom without ever sounding preachy.

They might not be a household name yet, but it genuinely feels like Sonic Reducer are becoming one of the most exciting punk bands emerging in Australia right now.

Too Late To Go Outside — kate moth

We recently discovered kate moth, a Sydney-based band, and we are very glad we did.

On their latest track, “Too Late To Go Outside,” they create a world that feels strangely immersive — like a rollercoaster moving in slow motion inside a dream.

The song feels hazy, intimate, and emotionally distant in a way that gets deeper the longer it plays. Even though there is movement underneath the instrumentation, everything still feels calm and weightless at the same time.

A huge part of that comes from Matt’s vocal performance. There is something incredibly soothing about the delivery throughout the track. Even when the lyrics deal with inner conflict, emotional exhaustion, and falling in and out of consciousness, the vocals somehow make the chaos feel comforting rather than overwhelming.

Lyrically, the song explores isolation, emotional paralysis, overthinking, and the feeling of wanting escape while remaining completely stuck.

It feels like the kind of song you put on alone late at night and suddenly find yourself completely absorbed in without realising it.

Higher Than Usual — Nancy and the Jam Fancys

The first time we heard Nancy and the Jam Fancys, one comparison immediately came to mind: Jim Morrison from The Doors, who is personally my favourite vocalist of all time.

Not because the band are trying to imitate The Doors sonically, but because Lewis Griffin carries a similar kind of unpredictability and charisma in his vocal delivery. There is that same loose, hypnotic energy where it feels like the performance could either completely fall apart or become transcendent at any second, and that tension is exactly what makes it compelling.

“Higher Than Usual” leans fully into that atmosphere.

From the opening line:

“You seem like a fine individual… shame I met you now you seem higher than usual”

the song immediately drops you into this hazy, psychedelic world filled with intoxication, late-night encounters, and blurred emotional states.

The video itself opens with a drug addict taking a hit, setting the tone for what the track is really exploring — not just substance use, but altered states in general. The feeling of people drifting through life disconnected, detached, impulsive, and emotionally elsewhere.

The last major release from the band was their album Swan Songs back in January 2025, and honestly, this track feels like the beginning of a new chapter creatively. There is something sharper, more confident, and more fully realised about the direction they are moving toward here.

If this is where Nancy and the Jam Fancys are heading next, we are very interested to hear what comes after.

Every Friday, Sound Under spotlights the best alternative music beneath the surface.

Got a track we should hear?
Tag Sound Under on Instagram or send us a DM.

Every Friday, Sound Under curates the best of Australian alternative music: fresh releases, overlooked gems, rising artists, and songs worth spending real time with.

Whether you’re driving down the coast, walking through the city late at night, or simply tired of playlists chosen by algorithms, these picks are built differently. This isn’t about hype cycles or whatever is trending for 48 hours. It’s about music with replay value, personality, and something real inside it.

No artist is too early. No sound is too left-field, and no scene is too small.

Here’s this week’s Picks:

Reruns — The Colliflowers

The Colliflowers have been sitting on our playlist for a while now, and one thing becomes obvious very quickly when you spend time with their music: they understand how to make genuinely fun, catchy pop-rock without sounding manufactured. There is an ease to their songwriting that makes the songs feel special.

Across their growing catalogue, there are plenty of tracks that hit that sweet spot, but for us, none land quite like “Reruns.”

This feels like the moment where everything fully clicks into place.

From the opening moments, the song carries a sense of movement that never lets up. The guitars are massive, the rhythm section keeps everything bouncing forward, and the vocal performance feels larger than life in the exact way a song like this needs. There is no formula for predicting what becomes a breakout track, but “Reruns” genuinely feels like it could become the band’s biggest song yet.

A huge reason for that is the guitar work. Nelson’s riff throughout the track is ridiculously addictive — the kind of riff that instantly locks itself into your brain after one listen. It gives the song its pulse, but also its personality.

Then comes the hook.

“ Oh my god / I’m barely getting started she’s rolling thunder ”

It is the kind of chorus built for movement. Windows down, summer drives, packed rooms shouting it back at the stage — the whole song feels designed for those moments. Even lyrically, there is something nostalgic and cinematic running underneath it all.

If you are looking for a song to inject some energy into your week, start here.

First Day Of The Rest Of My Life — Damon Mudge

A friend recently recommended Damon Mudge to us, and within one listen it became obvious why his music connects so quickly.

The Naarm-based piano rocker has a songwriting style that feels timeless without sounding dated. There is a warmth, theatricality, and melodic instinct to his music that instantly brings to mind artists like Elton John, but filtered through a modern Australian lens.

The track we have picked here, “First Day Of The Rest Of My Life,” comes from his debut album Country Living City Benefits — a project that deserves to be heard front to back. While the whole record carries strong songwriting throughout, this was the song we kept returning to the most.

A huge reason for that is the hook. It lands almost immediately and somehow manages to stay with you before the song has even finished. The groove is smooth, energetic, and full of movement, while the piano work gives the track its emotional core.

Then there are the drums.

As the song progresses, especially during the second half, the percussion begins opening the track up in a way that makes everything feel more alive. It is the kind of arrangement that feels built for a live room, where every section can breathe and expand naturally.

More than anything, this song feels joyful. There is a sense of momentum running through it that makes you want to move with it rather than simply listen from a distance.

Damon Mudge feels like one of those artists whose music is going to hit even harder live, and after hearing this record, we are already looking forward to seeing these songs in that setting.

If this track connects with you, spend time with the full album. There is a lot to discover inside it.

Heatin Park — DMA’S

At this point, DMA’S barely need an introduction. Over the last decade, the Sydney trio have become one of Australia’s biggest alternative exports, building a sound that sits somewhere between Britpop nostalgia, indie rock emotion, and massive stadium-ready songwriting.

What has always made DMA’S interesting is that even at their biggest, there is still something emotionally raw underneath the scale of the music. Their songs often feel huge, but never empty.

“Heatin Park” continues that perfectly.

The track has already been getting a lot of love online, and it is easy to understand why. Fans have been calling it one of the band’s strongest recent singles, especially because it feels like a return to the emotional urgency and melodic immediacy that made so many people connect with DMA’S in the first place.

From the opening moments, “Heatin Park” carries this restless emotional pull. The guitars feel expansive, the rhythm keeps everything moving forward, and Tommy O’Dell’s vocal sits right in the centre of the song with that familiar combination of vulnerability and force that DMA’S have built their career on.

But what really makes “Heatin Park” land is the feeling underneath it all. There is tension in the songwriting, but also warmth. The chorus feels built for live shows — one of those DMA’S moments where thousands of people could easily end up screaming the same lines back together.

Magic Man — The Gnomes

You do not come across many modern bands that genuinely transport you back to the spirit of the 60s in a believable way, but that is exactly what The Gnomes manage to do. And not just musically either. The whole world around the band — the visuals, the costumes, the performances, the attitude, feels fully committed to the era they are pulling from.

That is what separates them from simple nostalgia acts.

Yes, there are plenty of bands today inspired by 60s rock and roll, but most stop at the sound. The Gnomes go further than that. They understand the theatricality, charm, looseness, and personality that made bands from that era feel larger than life in the first place.

And “Magic Man” captures that perfectly.

The Frankston-based band channel elements of groups like The Kinks and The Beach Boys, though probably leaning more toward the storytelling eccentricity and garage-rock energy of The Kinks than the lush harmonies of The Beach Boys. There is a playful weirdness running through the song that feels very 60s British Invasion, especially in the way the lyrics sketch out this strange, slippery character drifting through life without consequence.

Musically, everything here just works. The guitars have that warm vintage bounce, the rhythm section keeps things moving effortlessly, and the whole track carries the kind of analog charm that makes you want to throw it on while driving with the windows down.

But what we love most about The Gnomes is that they still believe in the idea of the “band” properly. In an era obsessed with singles, trends, and quick moments, they feel interested in building worlds and bodies of work instead. There is a reason the golden era of rock and roll produced so many timeless records, and part of that came from artists thinking beyond one song at a time.

If you are someone who still loves proper rock and roll, there is a very good chance this band is going to connect with you instantly.

For the First Time — Le Shiv

Le Shiv still feel massively underrated for how complete they already are as a band. Sonically, visually, and aesthetically, everything about them feels intentional. They understand atmosphere, they understand image, and more importantly, they understand how to take older influences and reshape them into something that still feels fresh within today’s alternative music landscape.

“For the First Time” feels dark, cinematic, and emotionally explosive without becoming overly dramatic.

Lyrically, the song revolves around emotional manipulation, toxicity, and finally reaching a breaking point where clarity begins to cut through the chaos.

“Everything you talk / Seems to make me feel afraid…”

There is anger throughout the track, but more than anger, there is liberation.

What makes the track hit harder is how naturally the band build that emotional release into the music itself. The instrumentation keeps expanding as the song progresses.

Le Shiv are one of those bands that feel like they should already be much bigger than they are. The songwriting is there, the visual identity is there, and the sound already feels fully realised.

And if they continue refining this lane, it probably will not stay underground forever.

Every Friday, Sound Under spotlights the best alternative music beneath the surface.

Got a track we should hear?
Tag @soundunderau on instagram or send it through our DM.

Every Friday, Sound Under curates the best of Australian alternative music: fresh releases, overlooked gems, rising artists, and songs worth spending real time with.

Whether you’re driving down the coast, walking through the city late at night, or simply tired of playlists chosen by algorithms, these picks are built differently. This isn’t about hype cycles or whatever is trending for 48 hours. It’s about music with replay value, personality, and something real inside it.

No artist is too early. No sound is too left-field, and no scene is too small.

Here’s this week’s picks:

Vacant Space — Cosmic Vice

Cosmic Vice have always known how to write a strong song, but there has been a noticeable shift in what they’re doing over the past year. Since 2025, the band feels sharper, more confident, and more complete in the way they build records. The instincts were always there, but now the songwriting feels like it has caught up with the ambition.

“Vacant Space” is probably the clearest example of that growth.

Originally released as the second single from Inner Clear back in October 2025, the track still hits just as hard now that the full EP is out. Some singles lose their shine once the wider project arrives. This one hasn’t. If anything, it feels stronger in context.

The first thing that grabs you is the hook. Immediate, memorable, and built to stay with you long after the song ends. From there, the track keeps unfolding — tight rhythm work, strong pacing, and a guitar solo from Nicholas that gives the song another lift entirely.

Lyrically, “Vacant Space” taps into something many people understand but struggle to articulate: the feeling of being mentally stuck while life keeps moving around you.

The repeated lines about hiding behind thoughts and “silly little rhymes” suggest someone who once used humour, distraction, or creativity as a shield — but is finding it harder to cope now that everything is arriving at once.

Island, Haven, Home — Ben Lunt

There are certain singer-songwriters who make you stop what you’re doing the moment they start singing. Not because they are loud or dramatic, but because there is something in the voice that feels lived-in.

Bob Dylan had that quality in his own way, where the voice itself became part of the storytelling. Ben Lunt gives us a similar feeling every time we hear him.

The Perth-based indie folk artist has a voice that pulls you in quietly. There is conviction in how he delivers lines, but never in an overdone way. It feels natural, like someone speaking truths they’ve already spent time with. That is what makes you listen closely.

“Island, Haven, Home” is one of those songs that feels soothing from the very first moments, yet underneath that warmth is something deeper. It carries the feeling of reflection, movement, gratitude, and the kind of love that becomes an anchor as life changes around you.

This can be heard as a love song, but also something wider than romance. It could be about a partner, family member, or even a place that gives someone peace. The language of island, haven, and home speaks to safety — somewhere to return when the world feels unstable.

Musically, the track is gentle, calming, and beautifully understated. Even if you never paid attention to the lyrics, it leaves you feeling peaceful. But when you do listen closely, there is real substance inside it.

Ben Lunt has that rare ability to make intimacy feel effortless. “Island, Haven, Home” is another reminder that sometimes the quietest songs say the most.

No Good at Goodbyes — Willowbank Grove

This has to be one of our favourite songs musically on this week’s list.

There are songs you enjoy, and then there are songs where everything just feels locked in — the vocals, the emotion, the arrangement, the timing, the chemistry between the players. “No Good at Goodbyes” sits in that second category. It is the kind of track that reminds you why some bands feel destined for bigger stages.

And right now, Willowbank Grove feel like one of those bands.

There are certain artists you hear once and instinctively know they are going places. Not because of hype, not because of numbers, but because the foundations are already there. The songwriting makes sense, the identity feels real, and the music has movement. Willowbank Grove have that feeling around them.

They have already completed two Australian tours and released a strong debut album in 2024, which gave a clear glimpse of their potential. But like most real band stories, the road has not been completely smooth. In 2025, two founding members departed. Fifteen months passed without new music. For many bands, that kind of period can stall momentum or create doubt around what comes next.

Instead, they returned with “Now and Then,” and since then everything feels like it has begun moving upward again.

The current lineup looks sharp, settled, and energised. More importantly, it sounds like a band that has learned something through change. Sometimes setbacks strip away noise and leave only what matters. With Willowbank Grove, that process seems to have strengthened them.

“No Good at Goodbyes” is a perfect example of why we rate them so highly.

Nobody can predict the future with certainty. Music never works that neatly. But some bands create their own momentum by consistently sounding ready.

Willowbank Grove sound ready.

And with a second album on the horizon, expectations are high for good reason.

Long and Short — Matt Corby

Matt Corby is a name most people in Australia would already know. Many first discovered him as the 16-year-old runner-up on Australian Idol back in 2007, but the years since have shown something far more important than reality TV recognition: longevity, artistic growth, and a refusal to stay in one lane.

Now on his fourth studio album, Tragic Magic (released 17 April), Corby sounds like an artist fully comfortable following instinct rather than expectation. The record moves freely across moods, textures, and ideas across 13 tracks.

There are several strong songs across the project, but the one that hit us hardest was “Long and Short.”

The track carries extra emotional weight, written after the passing of his partner’s mother from pancreatic cancer. Knowing that context helps explain why the song feels so tender, reflective, and human. It is a grief song, but not in the obvious sense. Rather than drowning in sadness, it chooses gratitude, perspective, and love while staring directly at life’s fragility.

Matt Corby has spent years evolving into an artist with depth, patience, and craft. “Long and Short” is another reminder of why he has lasted this long — and why he still matters now.

You and Me — Tori Forsyth

Tori Forsyth returned in 2024 with the ARIA-nominated and widely acclaimed All We Have Is Who We Are, a record that reaffirmed her as one of Australia’s most thoughtful and emotionally grounded songwriters. Then, after that run, things went quiet.

Until March this year, we had heard nothing new.

“You and Me” is only the second song she has released since then, and it feels like a meaningful continuation of where her writing has been heading — honest, intimate, and deeply connected to real life rather than surface-level romance. It may also be the closest thing to a pure love song we have heard from her, though even here, love is not presented in some glossy cinematic way. It is shown through exhaustion, support, sacrifice, and wanting peace together.

That is what makes it land.

The song opens with a feeling many people know too well:

“Life is so busy, and I can’t help but feel / Like I’m missing everything that’s actually real.”

Straight away, Forsyth taps into one of the defining anxieties of modern life. We stay occupied, productive, responsible — yet often feel disconnected from the things that matter most. Time moves, days blur, and suddenly life can feel more managed than lived.

She follows that with a longing for simplicity:

“I sometimes wish my responsibility / Was no more than hearing birds amongst the trees.”

It is a beautiful line because it says so much with so little.

Tori Forsyth has always had a gift for making songs feel personal without excluding the listener. “You and Me” is a love song, yes — but more than that, it is a song about trying to protect what matters in a world that constantly pulls you away from it.

Stay tuned for next Friday’s roundup.

Got a track we should hear?

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