The realisation of six excellent Australian labels - Osborne Again, Dinosaur City Records, Spunk Records, Hotel Motel Records, Blossom Rot Records, and Inertia Music - the 37-song compilation began with Melbourne trio Dianas new single ‘Million Dollar Baby’ and a new song was released every day in the month of April thereafter. The lineup is a nice blend of perennial favourites like Emma Russack and Snowy Band, and left-of-centre side projects like Hun and Robot Fox, with an exciting spread of emerging talent strewn between, like Punko, Emma Shields and Popfilter.

The songs contained on Stay Inside were all written and/or finished throughout April, direct from the artist’s homes - it’s justifiably raw, certainly, but recorded with an honest sincerity. The singles straddle several genres, including bedroom pop, folk, jangle pop, and post-punk.

100% of the proceeds from the compilation are going directly to the contributing artists, spread equally amongst them. And, given that Bandcamp are once again waiving their platform fees this Friday May 1st, meaning all proceeds go straight to the label and artists, that date would present an opportune moment to support the Australian musical community.

It’s a gesture of togetherness and compassion from the labels - a small thank you to the artists who helped make them when they almost certainly need it most. For although the entire music industry faces up to the seismic change of coronavirus, this compilation feels like a testament to the collective spirit and enduring power of creativity.

And while Australia may be a land of The Great Outdoors, this compilation reminds us to Stay Inside - listening to a compilation borne of this much quality will make that a more bearable task. We caught up with some of the artists involved in the release to discuss the influences on their contributions to the compilation which you can read below!


The Gate with Steve from S.M. Jenkins

This popped into my head when I was sitting in a plane waiting to take off, it can make you feel very drowsy - I was drifting in and out. I printed out this movie poster and had it on my wall, the movie is great and stuff happens where you're not sure if it's a dream or not, the song is supposed to feel a bit like that too, that feeling where you're not sure if you're awake or asleep.

I tried to create a constant murmuring track, starting with the bassline and building the rest of the song around that. I put an electric and acoustic guitar together playing the main rhythm part of the song with the electric guitar part pretty muted. I came up with the drum part messing around with a midi keyboard - it worked best to keep it really minimal. The voices saying ‘coma’ all through the song is just my voice pitch shifted way up. Our bass player Jimmy suggested putting a lead line that sounded like Joy Division so ended up putting something like that in at the end on an acoustic guitar.


Gene Clark with Michael Angelheart

I'd been deeply schmoozing with Gene Clark on ‘True One’ a lot for the influence on ‘Everybody's Talking’. The concept of trying to define/realise yourself when you are unsure if anyone really knows who you are, even when they're your loved ones is certainly a good subject to draw upon if it comes your way. I felt as though I'd been living a dual life, one of responsibility with family, while also inserting myself in (from time to time) with my pals who were living freely and perhaps without the pressures I was under. Therefore, I would be two different people in either realm and didn't do either justice in my view, feeling like neither side quite represents as Gene says, "the true one". I think that is coming through in the dual narrative of ‘Everybody's Talking’.

Gene is always magical, this tune of his is so warm, thick and "wind down the windows and turn it up" kinda good, it's the tune I put on when I'm feeling really good. I wanted ‘Everybody's Talking’ to be a contrast like with Gene's ‘True One’, on one hand, it's feel good and warm musically and on the other hand it comes with an element of ailment in there lyrically. Gene is a master wordsmith and listening to him would make anyone consider poetry in song form. Honesty is in the eye of the beholder, you know, shield yourself with external elements until you're able to let the right light in and see for yourself what's important to who you are.

The late 1960’s and early 1970’s had a sleuth of artists in their 30’s and 40’s singing about some more obscure themes above the usual love and loss content of the big hits. Songs like ‘Lucky Strikes And Liquid Gold’ by Jeff Cowell and ‘Adventures Of The Invisible Dog’ by Allen Wachs. These have been a constant source of inspiration too, worth the listen.


Potatoes with Sophie from Hun

‘10 Minutes Into Oblivion’ is about a whole lot of nothing, which is kind of an accurate representation of my mental state during this strange period of stasis. When times are tough and the future is uncertain, I believe consistency and comfort are key to maintaining a sense of normalcy. The humble potato embodies that sentiment. I can’t count how many times during this isolation period I have freaked out about not having any groceries but not being able to leave the house - only to remember that $2.99 5kg bag of spuds I bought in case of emergency. Roast em, fry em, fritter em. Potatoes are a never-fail pantry staple. They are not the embodiment of infinite boredom, they are little balls of potential just waiting for someone to come along and give them purpose.


Misty Mountain Road with Cody Munro Moore

Misty Mountain Road has always held a small place in my imagination, like a door at the back of the wardrobe, I’ve always wondered where it takes you. Misty Mountain Road is on the Kings Highway between Batemans Bay and Canberra, it goes up to a mountain that I was pretty sure was called Sugarloaf Bluff (however I can’t find any evidence of that). It sits about 1km from the bizarre ‘Poohs Corner’ where stuffed bears sit in a small cave on the bend of the road. As a child, I’d always ask my parents to stop and we’d leave some biscuits or honey. It was originally a munitions store in the second world war, where as a defence for Canberra they’d detonate the corner of the high mountain road to make it impassable.

The song itself is not exactly about these places but the piano I played during the recording was semi out of tune, like it could slip down the high pass at any moment. The Misty Mountain Road is in there somewhere snaking away to sugarloaf bluff. This is just one of many roads on the south coast of NSW that I’ll maybe write about. Slaughterhouse Rd, Mount Agony Rd, Transmission Line Road, Big Bit Road to name just a few!


Voices with e4444e

Hmm well we could start with the fact that we could talk for ever n ever n ever n ever n ever n ever n ever n ever n still well what really got done what really happened and we could do so many things but really “it’s better do nothing than to be busy to be nothing”.

I like the sound of some people's voices, their rhythms and melodies can soothe you, especially when you’re nice and open in the night time. This song is pretty old, I think this recording is from 2018. This is a demo of the first version of the song. I’ve recorded a mellow acoustic version as well as played a freetime freak out version of it live with a band a few times. This version is how I played it solo in 2018/2019. It sounds very rough listening back now, you can hear my little brother yelling at Fortnite at the very start. This song has stayed with me for a while now, I'm glad it’s coming out to the world in one form or another.


Finding New Space with Change Machine

When I wrote ‘Sweat’ I had been listening to a lot of Attic Abasement, Michael Cera’s album True That, Beat happening, as well as an album called Som Das Luzis by Pedro Kastelijns. I was inspired by their storytelling and the layered, unclean, untarnished~by~perfection~ qualities of their sounds. I’m drawn to any music that feels like something’s on the line.

I hadn’t played music for about a year because it made me sad and also because as I was teaching myself, I had been fooled into believing that there are only two ways of being (musically): a hyper feminine swooning of angelic voices or an ego maniacal machismo jerk celebrating the worst parts of (so called) “Aussie” or masculine punk culture. How boring(!!!) but also how incorrect, there's enough room for everyone. ‘Sweat’ came from a new space, meeting new friends to make music with, Pat and his Banjo, Frankie, Jasper, me fighting an urge to hide or conform, to sound “more feminine” to be “more skilled” before I put something out there ~ fuck that, its a simple tune to smoke a cigarette to. I’m so proud of that.


Spring in Turkey with Elmo Aoyama

It was the beginning of Spring and the end of a tour. The water was warm, the surf was flat, it felt easy to swim one or two kilometres out into the ocean. Gazing to the north you could see faint shapes of a land in the distance. That land was Turkey. The shore behind was Lapithos, Cyprus. I swam back and got on a bus with some of my closest friends. ‘Summertime’ was written in my head on that bus.