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With a chip on its shoulder and an energy of its own, the Brisbane music scene keeps punching above its weight

Powderfinger's Darren Middleton and Bernard Fanning rock the band's farewell tour in 2010. (Tracey Nearmy: AAP)

Always the underdog and sometimes suppressed, Brisbane's music scene continues to "prove the bastards wrong" with a crop of new talent and a thriving live circuit.

From humble and humid beginnings, big acts have grown — from The Go-Betweens, Powderfinger, the Jungle Giants and now Sycco and Hope-D.

Streets of Your Town may forever evoke open-windowed Queenslanders but it wasn't until the 90s that bands could "break it in Brisbane".

Back in the 70s and 80s the city's punk gigs were infiltrated by undercover officers in safari suits, and bands like The Go-Betweens and The Saints had to go south to get big.

The Saints had to leave Brisbane to make their name.  (Supplied)

From punk crackdowns to freedom

The long reign of Joh Bjelke-Petersen's National Party put alternative music and punk rock under threat.

"They speak about police raiding their shows, shutting them down, undercover officers coming along in safari suits, dogs being brought to shows, and kids basically being chased down the street," said Dr Ben Green from Griffith University, who has researched the Brisbane music scene.

Forever Brisbane — former Go-Betweens' Robert Forster performs ahead of the opening of the Brisbane River bridge named after the band.  (Nic MacBean: ABC News)

Community radio station 4ZZZ and independent record stores like Rocking Horse Records helped keep the scene going.

"Brisbane has a history of bands doing things themselves independently, like The Saints in the 1970s and The Go-Betweens after that, but those bands left Brisbane to pursue their careers," he said.

With the end of the Bjelke-Petersen era in the late 80s, and triple j going national soon after, Brissie bands had the chance to make a name for themselves, without leaving home.

In 1991, the musical minds of John Collins, Darren Middleton, Ian Haug, John Coghill and Bernard Fanning formed Powderfinger.

John Collins, known as JC, is still on the Brisbane scene as the proprietor of Fortitude Music Hall and the Triffid.

"Straight away, our music and our band became our full-time job," JC said.

Quan Yeomans, frontman of punk rock band Regurgitator. (612 ABC Brisbane: Jessica Hinchliffe)

Regurgitator, Custard and Screamfeeder also made the then-radical decision to stay in Brisbane.

"One thing that changed in the 1990s was more of our big bands staying in Brisbane and pulling the spotlight to Brisbane, with their music and succeeding from there," Dr Green said.

"There was a mutual vibe that we're going to try to break it from Brisbane," JC said.

"We decided that we would spend two days in a crappy van driving home after a tour, to hang out with mates in a share house, have barbecues, and live the Brisbane lifestyle."

A new age

Tucked away in a storage unit on the city's south side, Brisbane's music scene looks to be entering a new heyday.

Platonic Sex, an alt-rock band, rehearses in a double storage unit, fitted with fairy lights, a pride flag and walls lined with amplifiers.

"I love sharing this rehearsal space with our friends and their bands, like VOIID, Melaleuca, Dog God and Hope D," Bridget Brandolini, the lead guitarist and vocalist, said.

Mikki Hain, Bridget Brandolini, Jane Millroy and Ryan Hammermeister of Brisbane's Platonic Sex. (Supplied: Kyle Dobie)

Just as in decades past, the Brisbane scene is almost incestuously interconnected.

Brandolini used to be the guitarist in Hope D. The drummer is also the drummer for Hallie.

Jane, on guitar, can be seen fronting Melaleuca. Brandolini's old house mate, Kate, is the lead singer of VOIID. And bassist, Mikki Hain, is the singer-guitarist in Perve Endings.

Back in the 90s, Powderfinger, Regurgitator and Custard used to share a rehearsal space in the TC Beirne Building in Fortitude Valley.

"With bands sharing rehearsal spaces, playing at each other's shows, and having these networks at a local grassroots level, it really created the roots of the scene that then flourished into the national level in the '90s," Dr Green said.

The heritage-listed TC Beirne & Co is now a cultural hub with a modern twist in Brisbane's Fortitude Valley. (ABC News)

Nowadays a punter can wander around the Valley or through West End and find a local band gigging. 

An origin story not dissimilar to the legends of the city.

"We started by playing bad gigs, midnight until 5am," JC said.

"I love seeing a band, like The Jungle Giants for example, go from playing a show at the Triffid until a few years later, booking out three sold-out shows at the musical hall in a row."

Cultural underdog

Brisbane has always felt pitted against the southern capitals.

Some didn't care if Powderfinger were playing to 1,000 in Brisbane, if they couldn't pull the same in Sydney.

"I think that sort of spawned a little bit of a chip on the shoulder," JC said.

"It gave us a bit of motivation to really prove the bastards wrong down in Sydney."

Brandolini said Brisbane is still underrated.

"Sometimes they're caught off guard by the energy of the audience and the other bands, that always makes me feel special being from Brisbane," they said.

"Most touring artists that come through Brisbane comment on the energy in the room and they often say Brisbane is one of their favourite places to come to."

Powderfinger's JC co-owns two major venues in the Valley. (ABC News: Scout Wallen)

Could Powderfinger make it on TikTok?

Live venues continue to drive the city's creativity, but artists face new challenges, expected to build a multi-platform brand before they're even in sight of a record deal.

Dr Green said labels nowadays take fewer risks, so it's harder to get signed.

"There's an expectation that artists will develop their own audience, profile, image, and art under their own steam before they progress to that level, and one of the ways they're expected to do that is through social media," he said.

"I think that's a really dangerous path to take with some really horrible music, in my opinion," JC said.

Brandolini agreed.

"I really am a believer that if someone's heart really wasn't in that music, and that music really wasn't super authentic, then it's not going to go where they really want it to go," they said.

Would Powderfinger have survived in today's social media-driven landscape?

"I don't think we'd be able to handle it, to be honest," JC said.

"We hated film clips, getting our picture taken so content creation was always going to be an issue for us, especially if it was TikToks."

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