Dappled Cities
on Timebomb, Aurora, and Reconnecting Through Music
After 25 years, Australian indie legends Dappled Cities have returned — and they’re as sharp, reflective, and heartfelt as ever. With new singles Timebomb and Aurora marking a bold creative rebirth, the band are embracing rawness, vulnerability, and the beauty of imperfection. From their analog-inspired collaboration with SPOD to recording live in just seven days at The Grove, the group is rediscovering what made them fall in love with music in the first place: connection, effort, and hope. We caught up with the band to talk about legacy, lyricism, and why making music together still feels like ‘a warm blanket.’
After 25 years as one of Australia’s most beloved indie bands, what does it feel like to be returning with new music and performing together again — this time in London?
Coming back together and getting new music out there is like a warm blanket. We've been out in the cold for a bit and, having worked so closely together for such a long time, it's just a real feeling of being back in a space we know really well. It's still new and energising, but also, like falling back in with family and knowing it's all good.
Timebomb and Aurora feel both reflective and forward-looking, exploring themes of legacy and the natural world. Can you tell us about the personal or creative spark behind these songs?
Timebomb came out very fully formed, at a moment of intense reflection on the state of the world. The whole album really came out of a moment in time, seeing the world in the state of chaos that it's in and knowing there was something to say about it. Aurora comes from that same place. After years of writing songs, sometimes it's hard to know what you have to say anymore. But then the world bursts into your consciousness and you kind of have to speak to what you are seeing. And it's pretty wild what we are seeing right now. Hopefully these songs do some justice to that.
You’ve described Timebomb as ‘a disarmingly beautiful apology to future generations.’ How did that lyrical idea take shape, and what message did you hope to leave with listeners?
Sitting there, guitar in hand, with my then 4 year old playing around in front of me, I just had this real sense of wanting to speak to her through song. We are really just sitting on this Timebomb aren't we? This sense of a nerve-crushing shift in how the world might operate. And we don't really know what to do. Yes, we can protest and write letters and act. But I wondered, when writing these words, what they will think of our efforts when they look back in 20, 30, 60 years. I hope we make a difference. And that's all you can ever really have - hope.
This new chapter sees you embracing simplicity and focusing on lyrics, harmonies, and composition over sonic complexity. What inspired that creative shift in approach?
Basically, every record since Zounds we've said "we're stripping back!". Then we go into the studio and something happens and we come out and each track has 100 overdubs, and a cello section and a welsh choir. This time, we really held to our goal. We recorded the basics in 7 days straight, live tracking the core and tried our best not to get seduced by sound. Let the lyrics and melodies shine. I think we got there. Still some bells and whistles. But fewer.
The Timebomb video with SPOD is an absolute trip — a whirling, VHS-saturated ascent into technicolour chaos. How did that collaboration come about, and what drew you to SPOD’s uniquely nostalgic yet futuristic visual style?
We've always wanted to work with SPOD. Don't know why we never did really. But for this one, with that analogue approach he has, it just made the most sense. In a song that is concerned with our drive to take the easy way out, SPOD's work is the opposite - it's hand-made, hard and beautiful because of that. AI can do a whole heap. But it can't make the effort. And the effort is where beauty is found.
SPOD mentioned using the vintage Fairlight CVI and even Amiga Deluxe Paint to create the video’s visuals. What was your reaction when you first saw the final cut, and how do you feel the video complements the message of the song?
First impressions? Laughing. Seeing yourself morph into some kind of primordial fish thing is pretty weird. But it is weird in a beautiful way. And then on the future edits, where he added the words and the explosions it just got better and better. I don't think I've ever felt so exhilarated by a video clip of ours.
Working again with Luke Bertoz (Lime Cordiale) at The Grove and bringing in Kenny Gilmore (Weyes Blood, Ariel Pink) for mixing gives these tracks a lush yet grounded quality. What was that collaborative process like this time around?
Quick and intuitive. We tried to do what we've always wanted to do: record the band as we are, live and raw. Allan and Mark are a stupendously good rhythm section, Ned is a sound master and Dave and I can belt out songs with real energy when we are in the moment. And being with Luke, up in the countryside, staying in the studio deep in the night, certainly got us there. Kenny and Luke then brought this great feeling to the mixes - at first we were a little off put with how raw they were, being used to shining up all our work and adding such production gloss in the past. But this is the raw heart of the music and I couldn't be happier with it.
With band members now scattered across the globe, how do you maintain that signature Dappled Cities chemistry — both in the studio and when preparing for a one-off London show?
It's a bit hard really. But we have intense rehearsal and songwriting sessions. We also have lots of pointless band meetings over zoom. Like 2 hours of basically talking crap and laughing and trying to figure out what the hell we should do in the music industry right now. Then wave good bye and do it all again the next week. It's just the reality of living across the globe. But we'll always come back together, feel that warm blanket and get on with new things. Lucky us. To have that.