Inside Melbourne’s DIY venue scene: ‘Everyone’s kind of given up on making money’
Subscribe
X

Get the latest from Beat

"*" indicates required fields

25.06.2025

Inside Melbourne’s DIY venue scene: ‘Everyone’s kind of given up on making money’

Propaine
Propaine
WORDS BY GABRIELLE DUYKERS

In the lead up to their debut album launch, Propaine talk catharsis, community and carving your own path.

Let’s be honest. The sticky floors of Melbourne’s bandrooms are starting to feel more like quicksand. With the beloved Gasometer the latest venue to close its doors, last month’s parliamentary report into Australia’s live music industry confirmed what every local gig goer already knew: the scene is in crisis.

In a crowded landscape of budding artists, it seems you either adapt or bow out. But Naarm post-punk inspired outfit Propaine is one in a growing network of artists choosing to do things their way.

Check out our gig guide, our festival guide, our live music venue guide and our nightclub guide. Follow us on Instagram here.

This Too Feels The Same – the band’s self-made debut album – is a testament to their DIY mentality and the resilience coursing through Melbourne’s underground.

Released via Kitty Records (the independent label behind Twine and Doris), the album’s sound was a conscious act of reclamation. After working with audio engineers on their previous EPs, the quartet, made up of vocalist Mim Gustafsson, guitarist Jack ‘Teekay’ Templeton-Knight, bassist Jack ‘Pogo’ Pogson and drummer Angus Morse, decided to take full control.

“We pride ourselves on being a really good live band,” Teekay says. “We wanted the album to capture the sort of live energy of how we actually sound, rather than having this really glitzy, shimmery record.”

Formed in late 2022, the group were intent on “embracing the imperfections” of their sound, which fuses punk basslines and emo riffs with “heady shoegaze romanticism”. You’ll hear a blend of sung, spoken and hollered vocals over instrumentals that range from melodic guitar fuzz to dissonant chaos.

“It was so hard,” Pogson says of the mixing task. “A really good learning experience for me, specifically, but I’m not planning on mixing the next one.” For Gustafsson, the creative autonomy that came with producing everything was “exhausting” but worthwhile.

“We could write the mixing as we went and make decisions that weren’t based on anybody else’s time,” she says. “I don’t think you always get that flexibility when you’re just emailing someone back and forth.”

The heart of the record’s unique atmosphere lies in the room it was born in. The debut was recorded entirely at D’Shut, a now-defunct DIY space in Brunswick that Teekay and Pogson helped run alongside two other volunteers for over a year.

The venue’s existence was a direct response to the commercial pressures squeezing emerging acts off official stages.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by propaine (@propaine)

“That was the reason we started D’Shut,” Teekay says. “We were talking to musicians, and there’s a sort of deluge of music venues but they’re expensive to play at.”

The space became a crucial hub for inclusive creativity, hosting gigs, art events, markets, workshops, and the rest. Melbourne’s alt scene has flourished in DIY spaces like The Bank, Spit and Bell City Takeaway, with volunteers working towards a self-reliant, anti-corporate community.

“Everyone’s kind of given up on making money,” Teekay says. “No one cares about that. When you organise around that idea and go to a gig, it’s just more fun and a greater chance to express yourself. It’s organised by musicians for musicians, rather than a person who’s just running a business.”

With D’Shut providing a space to meet weekly, the songwriting flowed as a fully collaborative four-piece.

“We would sort of all write in tandem,” Teekay recalls. “Which is probably more difficult… but it’s definitely more satisfying. You get more interesting results.”

This layered, democratic process is why the album sprawls across genres, with the band describing their sound as a “melting pot of ideas”.

“We can’t stick to a bit,” Pogson says, “which I think in a lot of ways is a strength.”

“I really want to make music that just doesn’t sound like many other things happening in Melbourne,” Teekay adds.

This Too Feels The Same hears Gustafsson continue exploring her ever-evolving musings around love, trauma and uncertainty.

“I’ve learnt a lot since we last released music,” she reflects. “I think I just want to have a more sophisticated opinion about how I’m developing and seeing things differently.”

The album title stems from her inner turmoil around the feeling of being a spectator in your own life. “It’s the juxtaposition between observing behaviours and feeling incredibly overwhelmed by that, but not changing patterns,” she explains.

The push-pull between visceral emotion and detachment pours over the record, notably on the album’s gut-punching closer, Sanctuary, and Virgo – a farewell to a bad friendship.

D’Shut’s forced closure in October last year served as a stark reminder of the precarity facing independent spaces.

“Our landlord has gone bankrupt, and we are now getting kicked out… such is the nature of DIY,” read the organiser’s final statement. But the unbound, communal energy of the space now finds its expression in Propaine’s shows.

“We really put a lot of energy and thought into the live performance,” Teekay says. “We won’t leave you wanting of entertainment.”

The gigs are a form of catharsis. A place to “really kick those chains off” and “go full ape mode”, as Pogson describes. But the joy of these live shows is also rooted in the community that fosters them.

“Part of playing the gig is recognising that shared experience you have with these… kind of randoms that you only know because you play music together,” Teekay says. “That feeling, for me, is super special.”

The band also points to one upside of the venue crisis: the lack of stages is compelling creatives to forge a stronger, nationwide community network.

“More bands across cities are connecting and playing shows more often in other cities,” Teekay says, attributing Propaine’s upcoming east coast tour to the myriad of bands they played alongside at D’Shut.

It hasn’t come easy, but with two new songs already recorded and a national tour next month, Propaine couldn’t be further from flaming out.

“I want to see how far we can push this thing,” Gustafsson says. “We’ve got a lot of momentum, and I’m excited to see what we do, whatever that is or however it sounds.”

Propaine are playing at Bergy Bandroom on 18 July. Grab tickets here.