“To me, this song is really just allowing my darkest inner dialogue to exist outside of myself. I hope getting these words out banishes them. I don’t agree with ageism or body shaming, so why do I do it to myself?”

“We felt it didn’t have enough grit — until now. We’re super proud of what the track has become; it sounds massive.”

“‘Bitch’ is written from the perspective of someone who refuses to apologize for who they are. It’s both a declaration and a celebration of stepping fully into yourself.”

A gentle, tranquil offering, ‘White Linen’ serves as a tender ode to family, with Austel’s effortless vocals exploring themes of chosen and inherited bonds.

“As a queer person, I’ve spent a lot of time imagining all the different life scenarios and possibilities of who I could be, who I should be, who I want to be and who I actually am.”

"The seed for 'In a Song' started sprouting in the spring of 2023 as I navigated life in Amsterdam, moving between our sailboat home, subrents along the canals, and the boatyard.”

“The Darling Song is about falling in love from afar. What begins as harmless admiration spirals into fantasies of a life together — before desperation takes over, and all you want is to hear them call you ‘darling,’ even just once.”

“This song is about finding strength and safety in your own body. Haters will hate, but we keep going.”

“I’m a child again, riding in the back of a car. A hole in the roadside beckons me to enter. I slip away like condensation into a pastel world where dolphins swim through turquoise streams and fruit trees twist in bonsai proportions. Then I realize I’ve been left behind.”

“One summer at my grandparents’ house, we found a stray piglet on the road. Babe was my favourite film, and I had begged for a piglet that year. My grandpa, known for his practical jokes, might have orchestrated it—or maybe it was fate. They never made a third Babe film, but we lived it.”

“The song came from that feeling of trying to connect with someone who was always just out of reach. Mike and I even layered in the sound of a New Zealand busy tone as a kind of sonic metaphor. It’s funny and devastating at the same time.”

“The ick isn’t just a feeling—it’s a deep, existential betrayal. It’s realizing they’re not the flawless masterpiece you invented in your head, but rather a person who says ‘boys will be boys’ unironically. There’s no recovering from it, so we figured we might as well write a song about it. Call it a public service.”

“We almost tried to squeeze it onto our EP back in 2022. But it felt too special—it deserved its own spotlight.”

“The song has a few meanings, but the one that connects them all is patience. In intimacy, relationships, life—being confident in communicating what you need. That’s reflected sonically too: confident, soulful, sexy, fun, joyful.”

“It’s the most typical love song you’ll find on the album. Written with hearts in my eyes, full of optimism about life and the future … like floating between two storms, momentarily forgetting the hardships and focusing on how sweet and warm it can feel to be in love.”

I was coming out of a strange place, struggling to understand how the last six months had shaped me. The song became about the changing of the seasons—and how that change shapes us too.”

“I wasn’t honest about what I was feeling, or about my sexuality. This was my way of saying what I couldn’t at the time.”

“It’s about looking at the world through different lenses and accepting your own vision.”

“I was feeling lost, wondering if making music was the right thing to do in a time of turmoil, seeing villains rule the world and destroy the planet.”

“After five band records, I’ve opened my treasure chest of personal storytelling songs that I’ve built up over a decade. I recorded these songs as they are — simple, imperfect, and all my own — inspired by timeless folk acoustic albums.”