“16 Walls”: A Labyrinth of Confinement and Reflection
Diving Into Hard Rubbish’s Newest Single
By Maximilian Levy
“16 Walls”: A Labyrinth of Confinement and Reflection
Diving Into Hard Rubbish’s Newest Single
By Maximilian Levy
Marking a third collaborative release with Swirl Records, Hard Rubbish have today unveiled their newest single, “16 Walls”, an introspective encapsulation of suffocation and reflection underscored by a lush backdrop of chorus-drenched guitars and fuzzy choruses. Recorded and mixed by Tom Matheson at Interim Studios and mastered by Cory Hanson, “16 Walls” was written as a conversation to oneself, summoning memories of it’s narrators past whilst glancing synchronously into his future.
Hard Rubbish is the solo-project of travelling musician Jason Katsaras, whose written works are deeply personal, sparse and separate – a memoir to his relationships, past and present, garnered during his journeys through Australia in the last few years. Katsaras’ formative challenges experienced throughout everyday life - from bar work to love lost and finding one's place - colour each of his compositions with haunting imagery and the rugged lyrical themes of contemporary Australian rock music. Even after his time living and working in North Queensland, Katsaras’ sound is yet to shift too wayward towards the bush, with “16 Walls” maintaining a recognisable suburban tinge through its monotonous vocals and cyclical chord progressions.
Jason Katsaras. Photo by Ricky Albeck.
“16 Walls” was written during a particularly suffocating period for Katsaras, who felt “caught in a vortex” in his endless cycle of working, drinking, and watching music at the same venue in Townsville. The chorus’ lyrics, “And I found what’s there/Through deep brown hair”, refer to a relationship he entered during this time, offering him a renewed sense of liberation with something fresh and exciting. These correlating feelings of entrapment and freedom seep into the song both lyrically and sonically, introducing a personal and intimate element to the otherwise abstract lyrics, implying that this human connection has been a key part of Katsaras’ experience.
The track opens with an upbeat, repetitive chord progression, a back-and-forth bassline, and a classically uncomplicated rock beat in 4/4 timing, the groove maintained by a routine pattern of kick, snare, and hi-hat. The instrumentation comes across as deliberately straightforward - the repeating riff acts as a reference to “the repetitive nature of life” at the time the song was written. Katsaras’ vocals are emotionally subdued in the verses, a steady monotonous pitch tinted by the subtly pained twangs of a South Australian accent, reminding me of Bindi McCallum’s vocals for Adelaide “emotional dolewave” trio Kurralta Park. The choruses introduce a heightened atmosphere of emotional release, with distorted guitars and snappy drum fills providing a deepened backdrop for the vocals.
Following the first chorus is a brief guitar solo, largely packed with short slides up the neck and repetitive notes extended by vibrato. To accompany the solo is a fizzing buildup of static noise that increases in intensity before cutting to silence as the second verse begins. Rather than inserting noise to the mix arbitrarily, this part services the track by 1) creating the imagery of hissing steam or boiling water, connecting to Katsaras’ rising feeling of suffocation, and 2) by building tension in the mix that subsides to restore the lush, comforting warmth of the verses.
Lyrically, one picks up on an air of disorientation between the lines of “16 Walls”. The opening lyric, “I’m in 16 walls, can’t feel the air”, introduces these themes immediately, establishing this feeling of confinement, perhaps both physically and mentally. When considering the imagery of sixteen walls, I tend to picture either an enclosed labyrinth of corridors and hallways or, more emblematically, four rooms infolded within each other, like the replicating layers of an onion. “I’m in deep enough, it must be real” denotes the narrator’s acknowledgement and acceptance of their estrangement from the reality that exists beyond their reach and the walls themselves.
There are some more little treasures to be found amid the composition of “16 Walls”, such as the wholesome “oh oos” that accompany Katsaras’ vocals during the verses, or the delicate acoustic guitar melody before the final chorus. The second guitar solo during the track’s closing moments is more sporadic than its predecessor, fuelled by wailing, screeching lead tones with soaring bends and slides, sonically embodying Katsaras’ exasperated release of the emotions that led to the writing of this song.
In addition to his subsequent travels, moving from Adelaide to Townsville in early 2023 was a “big culture shock” for Katsaras. He didn’t often find himself amidst a cultural melting pot of artists and musicians such as our own thriving community here in Adelaide. In fact, it was his connection to friends and peers down here that spurred him to continue releasing music and playing shows with a band formed in Queensland. Later in 2024, he plans to return to his hometown and re-establish an Adelaide-based iteration of Hard Rubbish:
“The biggest thing [for me] is to keep the fire alive.”
Top Photo by Ricky Albeck.
Bottom Photo by Nash Blight.
Despite being Hard Rubbish’s third official release, “16 Walls” was actually written before “Something” (2022) and “Evergreen” (2024), chronologically representing the “foundational rut” from which the other two songs were birthed. “16 Walls” dwells in the mire, “Something” recounts some fun experiences, and “Evergreen” looks forward. On the horizon, Katsaras has a collection of recorded songs ready to be polished and organised into a complete project, and is currently tossing up between an EP or full-length release in the near future. He says thank you to anyone who listens to Hard Rubbish while he’s been unable to play in the regular circuit of his beloved Adelaide.
To me, this new release from Hard Rubbish feels like a characterisation of Katsaras’ drive to continue pressing forward whilst taking time to reflect on his past. Just like during his travels through the country, his eyes are set determinedly on the road stretching out before him, but he hasn’t forgotten to take a glimpse in the rear-view mirror every once in a while. I look forward to watching the reformation of Hard Rubbish’s live band when Jason returns to Adelaide later this year.