Dumbhead Find Beauty In The Bleak

Ahead of their debut UK and EU shows, the Melbourne trio talk trip-hop lineage, jazz-scene beginnings and finding power in melancholy.

Dumbhead have always worked best in the in-between spaces - between genres, between studio sessions, between the stillness of a Melbourne winter and the songs it quietly demands. Their new double B-side, 'Didn't Make The Part / With Stones In My Shoes', is the trio's most intimate offering yet: two "sister songs" born from what Billie Rafferty, Maayan Barnatan and Zachary Salmon describe as a collective turning point, stripped back to let Rafferty's commanding vocals and a haunting guest violin do the emotional heavy lifting.

It's the latest step for a band that's moved fast since forming through Melbourne's jazz scene in 2023: a sold-out EP launch, a support slot with Water From Your Eyes, and now their first international run, taking in Pitchfork Paris, Icelandic Airwaves, Simple Things and headline dates across the UK and Europe.

We caught up with Dumbhead to talk trip-hop touchpoints, sharehouse studios, and why Melbourne's bleak winters might be their secret weapon.

You've just released a new double B-side and described these two new tracks as “sister songs”. What makes them feel connected to you?

Both songs were written at a very similar time. A potent time emotionally for all of us. These sensations naturally bleed into the writing process and produce similar themes and emotions within what you are creating, resulting in tracks landing in very similar sonic places. Different songs, with distinct and familial resemblance.

‘Didn’t Make The Part’ apparently came together in about an hour, almost accidentally. Do you think some of your best ideas happen when you’re not trying too hard to make something?

You never really know. The initial idea for ‘Didn’t Make The Part’ did come together quickly, much like the basis of many of our other songs. This arrangement stayed untouched and we were happy to call it done. After some time playing it live as well as revisiting it in the studio however, we eventually just sort of tried this outro idea, which in itself, came together very swiftly. Then there was that feeling; This was the song, this is complete. We generally work like this, allowing a track to reveal new parts over time. I think our best ideas do happen in that space of slight unconsciousness, but then we get more meticulous when constructing the parts and jigsawing them together.

You’ve said the songs came out of Melbourne’s bleak winter. How much does your physical environment influence the atmosphere of your music?

Living in Australia, I do think we’re often a bit spoilt with the weather… but yes, even our mild Melbourne winter has a natural introspective quality to it. When you live in a place like Melbourne, which often fluctuates between beautiful days and days more somber, it can intensify emotions and heighten the melancholy feelings in particular. Finding some power in that, and putting it into music, feels like a small rebellion.

Do you think you make different music in winter than you would in summer?

We’ll have to wait and see… summer does carry a natural lightness and I’m curious to see where that leads. I think it will welcome a new vibrancy to the music as we unfurl into spring and summer. Getting into the studio might be the harder part. I can imagine us enjoying the frolic a little too much and remembering that being cooped up inside is much less appealing when the sun is waiting outside.

You first met through the Melbourne jazz scene. What was it about each other that made you want to start making music together?

We first met Billie at Bar 303 in Northcote. A great local jazz band played there every Monday. Instantly we recognised our shared love of transcendental music, and from there we started jamming and soon found ourselves incorporating other styles we found out we shared. Initially, Billie would take a bit more of a backup vocal position, adding texture and atmosphere, however we knew she was just too good not to take centre stage vocally, which now is the glue at the centre of all our songs. Apart from that, the friendship and getting to hang out is really what the driving force was.

Your jazz backgrounds are clearly important to the way you approach music. What does coming from a jazz background give you that you might not get from a more traditional band setup?

I think we draw from other genres of music as much as we do from Jazz. Only Billie has had formal training and I think we input our shared love of world, dub, and folk music into the sound as well. You can hear traces of our jazz background especially in the vocal melodies, but we rarely have that intention in mind.

What do you think it is about Melbourne that makes it such an interesting place to make music right now?

We love Melbourne, It’s a city where people from all around Australia congregate to start bands and find their artistic voice. This constant influx of new ideas is inspiring, and the connections you get from playing with other creatives is addictive. Bands like Shock Corridor, Npcede, Linen, could name a million more, inspire us greatly, and we love that we can share the same creative spaces with them.

There are obvious touchpoints in your music - Björk, Radiohead, Massive Attack, Portishead - but Dumbhead still feels quite distinct. How do you take inspiration from artists you love without accidentally chasing their sound?

I think because Trip-Hop is such an ambiguous genre already, drawing from a variety of different styles, the amount sheer diversity of musical influence creates space for a unique sound. Similarly to all these amazing bands we adore, we find inspiration from many places, extending also to other art forms such as film and visual art. Although you can of course hear traces of say a massive attack rimshot, or a Radiohead-y guitar line, which we have no issue with, I think it is for sure this freedom of sounds this sort of writing style conducive to Trip-Hop which could allow us to form a distinct sound.

You started out making music in a makeshift studio in an outer-suburban sharehouse. What do you remember about those early sessions

We’re actually still there! And love it dearly. We’ve slowly collected more gear over the years though and it’s beginning to feel a bit more pro(ish). It’s pretty special to have a consistent creative space that we can record, write and produce in. It takes away the looming money pressures that a lot of bands have to deal with. No matter how make-shift the set up is, I think it is makes up a massive part of our sound as a project.

You’re about to play your first UK and European shows, including Pitchfork Paris, Icelandic Airwaves and Simple Things. What does it feel like to finally take Dumbhead outside Australia?

Touring internationally feels like a massive milestone. It’s something you repeat over and over in your head as a distant goal and now it’s not so far away. Having come across the opportunity to travel with each other is such a gift, it’s pretty special to be able work alongside the people you’re closest to.

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