Hidden Mirage

Confronts Anxiety, Grief and the Noise of Modern Life on Age Of Disinformation

From growing up in working-class communities and overcoming profound personal loss to balancing family life, social work studies and music, Hidden Mirage has crafted an album that asks difficult questions without pretending to have all the answers. We caught up with him to discuss the stories behind the record, the inspiration for standout single 'Why Worry?', receiving praise from Richard Kingsmill, and why this is only the beginning, with a second album already taking shape.

Age Of Disinformation explores themes of anxiety, isolation, grief, social division and the search for meaning in a rapidly changing world. What inspired you to tackle such a broad range of topics on your debut album, and what ties them all together for you?

I don't think I consciously set out to write an album about all of those things. The songs were written over a number of years and they were really just me trying to make sense of whatever was happening around me or inside my own head at the time. Anxiety, grief, loneliness, information overload, COVID, Trump, social division – they're all things I've experienced in different ways, and they're also things I see affecting a lot of people around me.

The thing that ties the album together is probably uncertainty. Whether it's worrying about the future, losing people you love, trying to find your place in the world, or simply figuring out who you are, there's this thread running through the whole record of people trying to navigate a world that often feels overwhelming and contradictory.

I think most of us are carrying around far more than we let on. The album is really an exploration of that. It's asking questions more than providing answers. There's plenty of darkness in there, but I hope there's also a sense of resilience and humour. Sometimes all you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it all and keep moving forward.

'Why Worry?' has quickly become one of the standout tracks from the record. What sparked the idea for the song, and why did you feel it was the right choice to represent the album?

The initial melody actually came to me while I was travelling through Vietnam. I was sitting in Ninh Binh surrounded by these incredible limestone mountains and stunning scenery, yet somehow my brain was still finding things to be anxious about. It struck me how ridiculous that was.

The song became this tongue-in-cheek conversation with anxiety. The chorus, 'Why worry about today? You could be dead tomorrow,' sounds incredibly bleak on paper, but it's really meant to be a reminder not to let fear rob you of the present moment.

I felt it represented the album well because it captures a lot of what Hidden Mirage is about. There's anxiety there, but there's also humour. There's self-reflection, but it's not taking itself too seriously. Musically it sits somewhere between indie rock and post-punk, which is where much of the album lives as well. It felt like a good introduction to the world of Age Of Disinformation.

You've lived a life that's taken you from Broken Hill to Kalgoorlie, Adelaide and Whyalla, while balancing music alongside work, study and family life. How have those experiences shaped the songwriter and person you've become?

Massively. Every place leaves a mark on you.

Growing up in Broken Hill and Kalgoorlie gave me a strong appreciation for working-class communities and the people who keep them running. Moving to Adelaide exposed me to a broader music scene, different cultures, and a wider range of perspectives. Whyalla has given me a sense of community and belonging that I'm incredibly grateful for.

It's not just the places that have shaped me though, it's the experiences that came with them. I lost my Dad in a motorcycle accident when I was eight while we were living in Kalgoorlie, and later in life I lost Mum to cancer when I was twenty-eight. Those losses left a profound impact on me. The anxiety, grief and trauma that followed were difficult to navigate, but they've also helped shape the person I've become.

When you carry that sort of pain from a young age, it can either consume you or teach you something about yourself and others. With the right support, mentors and people around you, I've come to realise those experiences can become a source of empathy and understanding. In many ways, that's what led me towards both social work and music. I'm drawn to spaces where people can share their stories, feel heard, and realise they're not alone. I think part of me is always trying to be the person I needed when I was younger.

Being raised by a single mum with my brother and sister wasn't always easy. Mum worked incredibly hard, but growing up in poverty meant you became aware of life's inequalities pretty quickly. You see how certain opportunities and pathways that many people take for granted can feel much further out of reach for families who are simply trying to get by. Those experiences gave me an early awareness of the systemic barriers many people face and sparked a lifelong interest in social justice and helping others.

Outside of music, I've spent years working in mining, I'm studying social work, I've got a wife who's been incredibly supportive throughout all of this, a young son, and another little boy on the way. Life is busy, sometimes chaotic, and often exhausting, but all of those experiences give you stories to tell and help keep you grounded.

More than anything, they've taught me empathy. Everyone is carrying struggles that most people never see. Studying social work and becoming a parent has reinforced that even further. As a songwriter, I'm fascinated by people — their fears, hopes, contradictions and vulnerabilities. Most of my songs start from observing those things, whether in myself or in the people around me. I think that's why the music resonates with the themes it does. At its core, it's really just an attempt to better understand what it means to be human.

Tracks like 'As It Comes' and 'Idle' explore overthinking, uncertainty and the pressure many people place on themselves. Were those songs born from personal experiences, observations of the world around you, or a combination of both?

Definitely a combination of both.

I've always had a tendency to overthink things. If there was an Olympic event for catastrophising hypothetical situations that never actually happen, I'd probably qualify.

But I also think we're living in a time where a lot of people feel pressured to constantly optimise every aspect of their lives. We compare ourselves to carefully curated versions of other people's lives online and somehow convince ourselves we're falling behind.

'As It Comes' is really pushing back against that idea. It's about accepting that life isn't something you can perfectly control or engineer. Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is stop trying to force everything and let things unfold.

'Idle' comes from a slightly different place. It's about what happens when you're left alone with your thoughts and there are no distractions left. I think a lot of people know that feeling, especially in a world where we're constantly connected yet often feel isolated.

Former Triple J Music Director Richard Kingsmill recently commented that he could hear shades of Alex Turner in your songwriting, describing the material as 'some good stuff.' What was it like receiving that feedback, and who do you feel has had the biggest influence on your approach to songwriting?

That was a surreal moment, honestly.

Richard Kingsmill has championed Australian music for decades, so for him to take the time to listen and offer positive feedback was incredibly encouraging. Alex Turner is obviously one of the great modern lyricists and a personal favourite, so hearing that comparison was flattering, even if it's a pair of shoes I'm definitely not trying to fill.

My influences are all over the place. Arctic Monkeys are certainly one. Modest Mouse have been hugely influential in the way they combine humour, existentialism and strange imagery. Radiohead taught me that songs don't have to follow conventional rules. Midnight Oil showed me music can still have something meaningful to say. Then you've got bands like The Beatles, Nick Cave, Fontaines D.C., Tame Impala and The Strokes floating around in the mix somewhere as well. So many more I could mention, how good is music right?

At the end of the day, though, I'm just trying to write honest songs that connect with people. If listeners can hear those influences while still hearing something uniquely Hidden Mirage, then that's probably the sweet spot.

'Phantasmagoria' closes the album in a way that feels reflective, dreamlike and open to interpretation. What drew you to that song as the album's final statement, and where do you see Hidden Mirage heading next with 'The Train' and a second album already in the works?

'Phantasmagoria' always felt like the natural ending because it doesn't neatly resolve anything. Life rarely does. The song sits in that space between dreams and reality, certainty and confusion, which felt fitting after everything that comes before it on the album.

There's a line between hope and ambiguity running through the whole record, and I wanted listeners to be left sitting with those feelings rather than having everything wrapped up in a bow.

As for what's next, 'The Train' will be the next single and it's one I'm really excited about. It deals with anxiety and intrusive thoughts again, but from a different angle. Musically it's got this driving energy that feels circular in shape, and hypnotic in nature like a train hurtling forward whether you're ready or not.

The second album is already starting to take shape as well. It's still early days, but I think it'll build on some of the themes from Age Of Disinformation while exploring new territory. If the first record was about trying to make sense of the noise around us, the next one might be more about what happens after the dust settles and you're forced to confront yourself, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see!

So many more stories to tell, so little time! Hahaha