Pushing Boundaries and Stirring Sh*t: A Conversation with DancingWater

The activist and artist is unabashed in her ambitions and unapologetic in her Blak rage.

It’s a drizzly April morning in Woolloongabba. DancingWater (aka Nads) glances up from her iced latte and avocado toast as we exchange introductions. The 27-year-old Meanjin artist is definitely the main character at Echo and Bounce this morning: Her lashes are raised to the heavens, baggy streetwear drapes her petite frame and layers of jewellery tumble past her long, braided hair. 

We make a last-minute dash out of the elements, seeking refuge from the spitting rain. Nads pulls up a chair and begins unpacking the nuances behind her band’s artistic vision. 

“I was an activist before I became a musician. So that’s fallen into my music quite a lot. The mission is representation.

DancingWater‘s music serves as a conduit for her socio-political message. With a deep-rooted commitment to amplifying the voices of First Nations people, her artistry is imbued with a profound sense of purpose that speaks to the heart of her creative vision. By weaving activism into her music, DancingWater is a potent force for change with the ability to inspire and empower her audience.

DancingWater carries with her two names that bear different meanings and cultural significance. ‘Nads‘ is her government name, while ‘Wurin Bana‘ is the cultural name bestowed upon her by her father, which in English translates to ‘DancingWater‘. A proud Gooreng Gooreng/Minjungbal/Kuku Yalanji/Yugambeh woman, DancingWater was born with music flowing through her veins. She’s quick to honour her parents for forging an eclectic spectrum of musical influences into her upbringing.

“My mother was a Christian woman, she would hold down the music at church when she would take us. I loved it just because it was musical. She used to rollerblade around clubs in the 70s when she was a teenager – I think it was Whiskey A-Go-Go back then, in Fortitude Valley – she would go there after college and she told us that Motown was always on. A lot of Motown and a lot of Reggae. So we grew up on a lot of Stevie Wonder. A lot of Michael Jackson…I feel like a lot of black households have Michael Jackson as their first-ever introduction to music. 

And then on the other side, my dad lives in the bush and doesn’t speak English until he has to. He does all the welcoming ceremonies for Splendour in the Grass and Blues Fest. My dad used to have dreads past his butt, and he thought he was like the reincarnation of Bob Marley. So we would listen to a lot of UB40, Peter Tosh, and Bob Marley. It was a nice mixture of music. It’s all ingrained in me, so it’s still my favourite music. It’s quite interesting having musical parents at opposite ends of the spectrum!”

Making music is more than just an art form for DancingWater. It is a cathartic and spiritual process that enables her to continue the legacy of her ancestors. As someone who identifies as neurodivergent, DancingWater reveals that speaking about her experiences through music is essential to her emotional well-being. Music, for her, is a powerful form of healing and activism. Through her band and songwriting, she has found the courage to speak her truth and break free from the societal expectations that once held her back.

It’s not that groundbreaking, if you think about it – I’m just doing what they did for thousands of years. I think what helps me as well, being somewhere on the spectrum, is that I have to talk about what’s happening around me in order to feel something. It’s so cliche but music is so healing. It’s a healer. If I didn’t start a band, I don’t know where I would be. 

I was in such a bad place when I first started and now, I think life has just taken off because I am speaking my truth more. I’m not people-pleasing anymore. I’m not fitting into white narratives and boxes anymore. Making music and writing – it all just kind of healed me. It’s therapeutic, but it’s also activism for me.” 

DancingWater’s debut single, White Noise, first hit our airwaves in a period of profound uncertainty – marked by devastating bushfires, a global pandemic, and rampant job losses. White Noise‘s poignant lyrics speak to the systemic racism and violence that Indigenous peoples face daily. The track is a call to action for listeners to confront their privilege and work towards creating a more just world. The haunting chorus of “All I hear is white noise” is a stark reminder that, for many, the struggles of blak people are nothing but background noise. DancingWater’s personal experiences and reflections provide the impetus for White Noise, a track that has resonated deeply with audiences around the world since its release in 2020. 

” When all of that was happening, I was living in an abusive household in a housing commission area. I saw a lot of the Ice epidemic hitting that particular area, too. A lot of homelessness, a lot of drug dealing, and a lot of suicides as well. It kind of fucks me up in the sense that everyone was shut down. Everyone that had a home was in their home, and I would still see homeless people on the street. I just saw these poor fucking people that are the living result of colonisation and poverty.

Because I was still in activism at that point, I had to write a lot of speeches for the protests that were set to happen by the end of the year. I’m talking about the brutal truths when I’m at these protests, so I just kept writing and started writing poems, and that’s how White Noise started coming about. It’s quite a sad song. I was originally talking about myself when I started writing it:

‘Her sadness runs deep, but their hate – as in the colony – it runs deeper for us.’ 

I just needed to get that out of my system. I hope it’s eye-opening for people that don’t look like me, but it’s for my people that don’t know how to say it yet. 

I did not expect it to be in TV shows and I did not expect it to be a hit over in Canada and Turtle Island. It did well for our first-ever single, and for something that I made in my bedroom! I did not expect it at all…Not for my black ass! “

Following the success of White Noise, DancingWater teamed up with Arona Mane and Shantan Wantan Ichiban for Doin’ It Different. The track is a masterful mesh of drum & bass, hip-hop, and R&B, resulting in a genre-bending union that showcases the diversity of all three artists. The song opens with a driving bassline, setting the stage for DancingWater‘s smooth, honey-dipped vocals. DancingWater recalls the giddying moment in her career that started with an email and culminated in Idris Elba’s adoration.

“It was so random. I was at home and I got this email from Arona. He’s like ‘Hey, I’ve heard White Noise. I’d love for you to sing like Jorja Smith over the top of this drum and bass song’.

 I listened to it and I was like, ‘I can’t do this! I’m used to singing on this slow Neo-Soul project – I can’t sing over the top of this drum and bass song, this is insane!’

But we came to do it and it was fine. The song did really well, too. I obviously brought my message of black pride and liberation into it, and you know Idris Elba? Yeah, he likes it! I was like, ‘Yo 007 guy likes the song!’ I thought that was a green flag. We found out through the Internet – the Internet is weird – but we found out he had an interest in the track!”

White Noise and Doin’ It Different showcase the first inklings of DancingWater’s ability to seamlessly blend genres into a harmonious fusion. The band has carved a distinctive identity that blends elements of Neo-Soul, Pop, R&B, Electronica, and Punk. DancingWater reminisces on the sonic journey her band has undertaken that has ultimately led to their current sophisticated sound.

“We were just straight Neo-Soul, originally – keys, bass, drums, and that was it. There was no heaviness to it at all. Then one of my mates, who I’ve known for about 10 years, joined the band as a guitarist. So we kind of had to flip the genre a little bit. 

We were already big fans of a lot of punk and metal bands, so we got heavier from then on in. Like, yes, I can finally live out my Nu-Metal fantasies! So as soon as he came into the band, we started mixing more of the sludgy Doom Metal with Neo-Soul.

I love my Neo-Soul, that’s my heart.

But to reflect my emotions, I need to have that heavier stuff, because I do have a lot of rage that I need to get out. It’s fitting with our message, as well.”

I circle back to dwell on DancingWater‘s discerning ear for genre fusion a little longer – It’s their incorporation of Punk that piques my curiosity. 

The Punk scene has historically been associated with the intersectionality between artistic and political expression, with people of colour playing a key role in its inception and continued success. However, the genre has been plagued by a well-documented history of racism and misogyny.

As a First Nations woman fronting a punk band, DancingWater is uniquely positioned to shed light on the dynamics at play in Australia’s Punk music scene. The artist delves into the complexities of navigating and challenging stereotypes while creating space for underrepresented voices in the genre.

“I back myself so hard. I’m aware that not a lot of First Nations women are in punk bands in Australia. I feel like it’s revolutionary, it helps a lot of young black girls speak up. We don’t have to be these soft, gentle, decolonial queens. We’re getting into different genres other than, you know, R&B and Soul and all that, which is lovely. I want to represent us black girls that are in heavier genres and punk scenes.

I had an experience when we supported Amyl And the Sniffers last year. There were a lot of old punk heads in the crowd. I heard some feedback from a person that was in the crowd next to these old punk heads, and they hated me! They did not like what I was doing. They did not like me. It’s just underlying racism, which is not surprising at all. It’s quite funny because the genre itself is to rebel –

Why is rebelling a white thing? I have a lot to rebel about, you know what I mean?

It’s kind of frustrating sometimes, but then, at the end of the day, I’m a shit-stirrer and I like pushing people and sifting out the bullshit. They don’t like seeing black girls on stage screaming about dead cops, and I could care less.”

As an activist-turned-musician, DancingWater is using her platform to help organise, curate, and perform at The Black People’s Union Fundraiser Gig, set to take place at Echo on Bounce on May 13th. 

The Black People’s Union Fundraiser Gig is an event dedicated to raising funds for the fight for sovereignty and the full self-determination of First Nations people in Australia. DancingWater emphasises the importance of keeping the movement grassroots, as politicians often silence the voices of those in rural communities. 

“The Black People’s Union are trying to fight for the mob that are not being heard by politicians and we’re trying to keep it grassroots.

We’re not wanting a seat at the table because they’re not serving up anything for us. The table is probably stolen.

There’s thievery all over it. It’s colonial, it’s not for us to sit at. Black People’s Union are trying to help people understand that.

They’re doing such an important job of making sure people outside of the Indigenous community understand that this is grassroots, always stick with grassroots. They’re not politicians, so they’re not sly or cheeky. This is grassroots shit, and they’re fighting for the treaty, which is well overdue in this country. 

We don’t want a voice referendum. The ‘voice’ doesn’t include our voices. It is quite the opposite. It is shutting down mob in rural communities and only talking to what we call ‘city blacks’. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just rural black fellas have no idea about the voice referendum because their voice isn’t being heard, which is ironic. 

I helped curate this event with them because I was an activist before I was a musician, so I understand what they’re trying to do. We want to bring the black rage, as well as the unity and love and all those other nice peaceful, loving things, you know?

We just want sovereignty and autonomy over our blackness, our bodies, our minds, our land, our food, and our air! Everything!”

The future looks bright, booked, and busy for DancingWater. The artist is particularly excited about her upcoming release, ACAB, which stands for ‘All Cops Are Bastards.’ The song is undoubtedly set to subvert expectations and ruffle some feathers, but DancingWater is thrilled to share her message with the world. The song has been part of her live shows for a while now, and she believes it will serve as a much-needed shock on people’s delicate sensibilities.

“I love performing. I love being the centre of attention for good reasons, you know? Not just because I want to be looked at, but because I got some shit to say! We’re playing at Black Bear Lodge for their birthday, and then we’re playing at Princess Theatre with Jen Chloer.

Then we’re going to pause on shows for a little bit. We’re focusing on recording a few more things. We’ve got some stuff coming out this year that I’m so excited about.

Oh my god, we have this song called ACAB and it’s just so filthy, rotten, heavy, dirty –

ignorant as hell lyrics about the cops – I can’t wait! It’s gonna piss some people off, but that’s fine. We’ve been playing ACAB since we first started. We finally got some structure down for it and recorded it last year, now it’s in the process of mixing and mastering. It’s so disgusting! It’s so disgusting, and I love it! I think it’ll be a shock to the system for people because they probably have never heard a black girl scream this much about dead cops! It’s interesting because in the live shows that we’ve played ACAB, we’ve either been heckled or people have just eaten it right off the fucking plate!”

You can catch DancingWater at these upcoming shows:

May 12 supporting Jen Cloher at The Princess Theatre – Buy Tickets
May 13 at The Black People’s Union Fundraiser Gig at Echo at Bounce – Buy Tickets