A Quick Chat with Hidden Mirage
'Why Worry?' has become the focus track from Age Of Disinformation. What was it about this song that made it feel like the perfect introduction to the album?
I think Why Worry? captures the spirit of the album better than any other track. On the surface it's upbeat, catchy, and a little tongue-in-cheek, but underneath there's a real conversation happening about anxiety, uncertainty, and how overwhelming modern life can feel. That contrast between humour and discomfort runs through the entire record. It felt like the perfect introduction because it invites people in with a smile before asking some bigger questions. It doesn't take itself too seriously, but it's still saying something meaningful.
You wrote the initial melody for 'Why Worry?' while travelling through Ninh Binh in Vietnam. Can you take us back to that moment and explain how the song evolved from there?
The song actually came together on the very last day of a month-long honeymoon through Vietnam. My wife stayed back at the hotel that day to catch up on some school work before heading back to Australia, which was completely understandable considering we'd spent the previous 29 days travelling, exploring and enjoying ourselves. At the time though, I found myself feeling frustrated, anxious and strangely unsettled. Looking back, I think it was that feeling of wanting to control a moment that wasn't really mine to control.
I ended up going on a day tour around Ninh Binh by myself and met a couple of fellow travellers along the way. They were incredibly present, calm and grounded people, and after spending the day chatting with them amongst some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen, something shifted. I moved out of that fight, flight or freeze mode and was finally able to just be in the moment and enjoy the day for what it was.
On the bus ride back to the hotel I'd been listening to The Futureheads, but my phone battery died and the music stopped. Strangely enough, that's when the song started. The line "Why worry about today, you could be dead tomorrow" popped into my head, followed by guitar riffs, bass lines and melodies. It felt like the entire song was arriving at once and I just kept ruminating it inside my brain so I wouldnβt lose it, this is how most of my songs begin, like a mini orchestra in the mind. By the time I got back to the hotel room I put my phone on charge and quickly hummed and recorded almost ninety percent of the track before it disappeared.
When we returned to Australia, I finished the demo and took it into the studio with Joseph Cheek, Jack Thomson and Jarrad Greenham. It ended up being the very first song we recorded for the album. It was a lot of fun to bring to life and, in many ways, it set the tone for everything that followed on Age Of Disinformation.
The lyrics balance humour with anxiety in a really clever way. Why was it important to approach such a serious topic through a more playful lens?
Because that's often how people actually deal with anxiety. We joke about it. We laugh at ourselves. We make light of things that keep us awake at night. I think humour can be a really powerful way of talking about difficult topics because it lowers people's defences. If I wrote the song as a straight-up depressing account of anxiety, it probably wouldn't connect in the same way. There's something very human about being overwhelmed by life one minute and laughing at the absurdity of it all the next.
'As It Comes' explores themes of perfectionism and the pressure to constantly optimise our lives. Do you think modern society has forgotten how to simply let things unfold naturally?
To some extent, yes. It feels like we're constantly being told there's a more productive version of ourselves we should be chasing. A better routine, a better diet, a better career, a better side hustle. There's this endless pressure to optimise every minute of every day. I think As It Comes was my way of pushing back against that mindset. Some of the best things in life happen when you stop trying to control everything. Not every moment needs to be monetised, measured, or turned into self-improvement. Sometimes it's okay to just exist and let life unfold.
'Idle' captures that feeling of being alone with your thoughts. Was writing that track a form of catharsis, or did it raise even more questions for you?
A bit of both. Writing it was definitely cathartic because it allowed me to put some of those thoughts somewhere outside of my own head. But I don't think songs like Idle necessarily solve anything. They're more like snapshots of a feeling, a moment in time. The song explores loneliness, overthinking, and that strange relationship we have with our own minds when everything goes quiet.
Part of the song also draws from a difficult period in my life years ago when I was struggling with my mental health and experiencing suicidal thoughts. Thankfully, I never acted on those feelings, but they left a lasting impression on me. Idle was an opportunity to put some of that experience onto paper and make sense of it through music.
If anything, writing it helped me realise that a lot of people experience those same feelings. My hope is that if someone finds themselves awake at 3am on an idle Tuesday morning, feeling overwhelmed and alone, maybe the song can provide a small sense of connection. If it lands in the right place at the right time, helps someone feel understood, or reminds them they're not the only person who's had those thoughts, then I feel like it's done its job. That sense of connection is probably the most comforting thing that came out of writing it.
The album closes with 'Phantasmagoria', which feels dreamlike and reflective. Why did that song feel like the right way to leave listeners at the end of this journey?
Phantasmagoria felt like the natural conclusion because the album spends a lot of time wrestling with uncertainty, information overload, anxiety, and identity. Rather than ending with a neat answer, I wanted to leave some room for ambiguity. The song sits somewhere between a dream and reality, which felt fitting for a record called Age Of Disinformation. It's reflective, slightly unsettling, but ultimately hopeful. To me, the album isn't really about finding all the answers. It's about learning to live with uncertainty and still finding moments of meaning, beauty, and connection along the way.