Mo’Ju is one of Australia’s most exciting music artists. Their third album Native Tongue was one of 2018’s most important releases and intimately documented Mo’Ju’s exploration of their Wiradjuri and Filipino identity. Its release represented a turning point in Mo’Ju’s career and the way in which songwriters express their personal stories.

Now in 2021, Mo’Ju comes with a brand new offering. Upcoming mini-album O.K. takes an introspective dive through the depths of mental illness, but despite the heavy subject matter, the songwriting and production is playful and experimental, leaving audiences feeling as though the music itself is the antidote for sadness. Last week Jake Amy sat down with Mo’Ju to discuss their new release.

TJ: O.K. is described to be a “vulnerable reflection upon mental health and loneliness”. Originally, why did you write these new songs?

I didn’t write these songs for anyone else to hear. I just wanted to make other music about stuff that wasn’t traumatic. Native Tongue was about my family history and my experiences with identity. There was just so much... it was so heavy. And I had to relive it every night on tour, so I’d be in those feelings over and over. Doing that all the time was healing to a point, but then it just became reliving trauma.

For two years, I was on quite a gruelling tour schedule and I have really distinct memories of writing on plane flights with headphones on. I was writing for myself, moving through a whole bunch of feelings and it was really helpful to put them to paper. In all honesty, I’ve struggled with my mental health on and off my whole life and I think I was in one of the deepest depressions that I’ve ever experienced. Back then, I wasn’t ready for people to hear these songs, so I put them away in a folder and forgot about them.

What type of expectations did people have of you?

Certain people wanted me to be a “representative” of all different minorities. A leader of some sorts. Oftentimes people had their own agenda in how they told my story… At first I was a bit naive about it. I thought people actually cared about my music, my family and why my songs were important to me. But some opportunities were afforded to me just because of a diversity quota. It hurt me to think that some people were just trying to leverage my identity to present themselves in a certain way. It definitely made me a little bit cautious about how I presented my story going forward. I’m just going to continue to be me. I’m on my own path.

Why is it important for you to share these songs now, in 2021?

Looking at those songs again after having so much time to heal, I felt compassion for the person who wrote them. I was in a really different headspace back then and I felt I’d come out the other side and grown. A lot. I felt that maybe the final step in fully letting go was to release the songs out into the world. So I made the choice to finish off the songs with my good friends Henry Jenkins and Lewis Coleman.

While there’s not a full narrative arc in that there is resolution and all my problems went away, there is this sense of hopefulness towards the end. And I feel that is more beautiful in a way. It feels more real. Hopefully these songs are relatable to other people. The most rewarding part of releasing new music is when people reach out and share their story with me because they’ve related to something.

What advice would you give loved ones going through similar mental health struggles?

Reach out. I don’t always have the answers for you and I’m not equipped to be the person giving solutions, but I’m so here to listen. Take care of yourself physically, mentally. Exercise. Eat well. Meditate. Find things that are gentle and nurturing for yourself. I’d probably also tell people to go to therapy and get a mental health care plan.

What’s been on your mind recently?

About a year and a half ago I became a parent for the first time. It’s really given me so much to think about in terms of where the world is at. You don’t make a decision to have a kid lightly, particularly when you’re queer... Like, it doesn’t happen by accident! I’m also in a really queer co-parenting situation. I’m co-parenting with my friend, who is like family to me, but we’re not in a conventional romantic relationship. We’ve made choices to do this thing in ultimately a really progressive kind of way, but because it is unconventional, it can be challenging. I don’t identify as a “mother”. I didn’t give birth and so it’s a really different experience for me. As somebody who has a “complex” gender identity, it’s not so straightforward and it’s really interesting how people navigate that with me. People aren't used to that family structure or those family dynamics and we’re often asked so many questions.

What’s one aspect of being a parent that you would like to teach the music industry?

Well, as soon as someone has a kid, it doesn’t mean they stop being of creative value as an artist. It doesn’t mean they stop having art to make or things to say. It’s actually the opposite. I’ve become so much more creative and I think I have so many more interesting things to say now. I’m making the best music of my career. Why is it so taboo to talk about being a parent when you’re an artist? If people are interested in looking at a really unique take on that - Ngaiire has some really, really important stuff to say.

To add to this, you know, I have heard this story from women I know who were told that they were too “mumsy” to be played on a particular radio station. And yet there are men who get played on that same radio station who do have kids and don’t get asked about their children or how it’s affected their careers. The way that society views parenthood can be so problematic.

What change would you like to see in the music industry over the next five years?

Artists taking power in actually asking for change on a fundamental level. Like, I guess implementing things like inclusion riders. Ultimately, I want to see live music events becoming more accessible for all people.

For those who may not know, what are “inclusion riders”?

At gigs, musicians have historically had a tech rider (where we ask for all the production elements we need such as lighting and sound) and a hospitality rider (where we list what kind of food and beverages we need backstage). An inclusion rider is where artists can request that events are accessible for people with disabilities, accessible to people of all genders and are culturally safe spaces, particularly for First Nations people. I want to know that if someone uses a wheelchair, they will be able to come inside the venue and see the show. I want to know that if somebody wants to use a bathroom, they don’t have to go through a whole range of uncomfortable experiences just to use whatever restroom they want to use. It’d be great if every event had an actual Welcome to Country from the traditional custodians at the start of every show and failing that, a formal Acknowledgement of Country. These types of things are becoming more and more common, definitely in the circles that I’m familiar with and I’m hoping that these trends really take off so that they become staples in what artists ask for.