Australian hip-hop artist Decaf is making his presence felt with the release of his powerful EP, "SCENE IS BELIEVING." We sat down with the rising star to discuss the inspiration behind his music, his creative process, and how his roots in Western Sydney have shaped his unique sound.

Tori: Your EP "SCENE IS BELIEVING" has been making waves in the Australian hip-hop scene. What inspired the title, and what message do you hope listeners take away from the EP?

Decaf: The title is a play on the phrase "seeing is believing." It's something I wrote in my notes app a long time ago, which is how a lot of my songs come about—I'll just write down wordplay or little puns and then pull them into something bigger. From the start, I knew I wanted to make a project that acted as a snapshot of the Sydney/Australian scene. For the longest time, I was making music with no audience and felt isolated. It wasn't until I found this incredible music being made around me that I could see a pathway. I truly believe that if you embrace your scene and your community, you'll start to believe in yourself.

Tori: Tracks like "CHOSEN" and "TELL EM" showcase your defiant attitude towards external validation. Can you elaborate on what drives your artistic vision and how you stay true to yourself in the industry?

Decaf: Art has played such an important part in my life for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, I used to spend my weekends acting in plays, and I had a full-blown YouTube upload schedule at 11 years old. I'm really privileged to have parents who fostered that—my dad was a journalist and my mom was a drama teacher (shoutout to her on the EP cover)—so it’s always been natural for me to create just for the sake of creating. Realistically, I don't think I'd cope without some form of expression. Obviously, external validation is nice, but you can't chase that or you're going to burn out really quickly. I think my desire comes more from being seen than from being appreciated.

Tori: "BUMBLE" offers a playful yet pointed take on modern relationships. What inspired this track, and how do you think it reflects your growth as an artist?

Decaf: I actually wrote this track after a fallout with a close friend. We never actually spoke about why we stopped talking, but to me it was clear that my queerness and neurodiversity was a problem. At the same time, I was getting a ton of likes on Bumble while my Tinder was beyond dry. I think people are going to have their own takes on the song, but for me, I wrote it as an affirmation that authenticity perseveres, that there are spaces where we’re loved, and that we deserve to talk our shit as much as anyone else.

Tori: Your music often blends introspective lyricism with locally created production. How do you think your Windsor roots influence your sound and style?

Decaf: I actually grew up in Schofields, which I adore. I see it as a kind of scrappy little brother to the surrounding suburbs—we had a train station, a bakery, and that was about it. I moved to Windsor in high school (which is only ten minutes down the road), but it’s such a magical place. It's very tranquil and just has a ton of quirky charm. It's the third oldest British settlement in Australia, so you can go to the main streets and just feel the history and the people who have lived and died there. I also work in Mount Druitt, which to me has one of the best communities in Sydney. The people are so genuinely kind and friendly and aren’t worried about trivial bullshit—it’s a breath of fresh air. I think the combination of those suburbs and my experiences there really impacted the project. It’s got a scrappiness, it honors the history, and it respects the community. I think those are things integral to the Greater Western Sydney experience that we all kind of carry. It’s why when you meet someone out in the city, you can kind of tell when you’re talking to someone from the West.

Tori: You've been praised for your conscious rap lyrics and DIY ethos. What role do you think authenticity plays in your music, and how do you maintain it in the face of industry pressures?

Decaf: Authenticity is everything to me. I want people to be able to listen to my music and figure out who I am. I try not to overthink things, go with my gut, and really focus on the storytelling of my life. I look at the commercial hip-hop in our country and I don’t really want to sound like that. I would rather stop than conform, so it’s not about listening to the industry, it’s about making the industry listen.

Tori: Your EP has been described as a testament to the golden age of Australian hip-hop. What do you think sets your generation of artists apart, and how do you see yourself contributing to the scene?

Decaf: I think this is really the first time in our country’s relationship with hip-hop that you can make anything. The genre is more fluid and diverse than it ever has been. We’re almost experiencing our own version of the early 2010s blog era through Instagram. I think artists are selling themselves and their stories, which has given some depth to what we’ve had in the past. I really want to lead the way in that conscious realm. I think music is so integral to the Australian identity; it captures our spirit better than any other medium. So I just want to add my story to that canon, and hopefully, help some people feel heard along the way.

Tori: You've collaborated with artists like Station Hayds, emefbanx, and calliobel. Can you tell us about your experience working with these artists and how you think these collaborations have helped shape your sound?

Decaf: I owe so much to my collaborators. I think it’s a really beautiful thing to be able to share and utilize someone’s creative vision. First and foremost, I think of myself as a fan of the scene. I’m equally inspired by people I haven’t worked with, and I don’t work with people unless I really love what they’re doing. Luckily, there’s so much to love. It’s crazy to me that I can go from listening to Station’s album, taking it apart and telling everyone they need to get amongst it, to then being trusted enough to carry a piece of that on my own project.

Tori: Your lyrics often touch on themes of local identity and artistic purpose. How do you think your music reflects the current state of Australian rap, and what do you hope to achieve with your art?

Decaf: With this EP, I wanted to actively represent the struggling artist—the people with so much passion that it overcomes everything. I wanted anyone in the scene, as a fan or participant, to be able to relate. So I guess it reflects the ethos more than anything. I just want my art to connect, to exist outside of a vacuum. I guess the ultimate goal would be the Australian rap scene shifting to reflect me.

Tori: You've been open about the challenges of navigating the music industry while staying true to your artistic vision. What advice would you give to emerging artists facing similar struggles?

Decaf: Tune out all of the noise, and just make what you want to. The most important thing you can do is put it out. Your first release won’t be perfect, and your tenth probably won’t be either, but if you’re not allowing the art to exist, you can’t improve. For people who are already doing that, sometimes it is actually worth listening. Go to industry panels, hear what decisions other people are making, and actually take some of that on board. As I’ve said, get involved in your community. The art comes first, obviously, but not all of the industry advice is bad. It’s not a blueprint; you have to figure out how to make it work for you.

Tori: Your EP launch at Oxford Art Factory's Gallery Bar was a huge success. What was it like performing live, and how do you think this experience has helped you connect with your audience?

Decaf: I’ve had the pleasure of doing quite a few live shows now, and there’s really no other feeling like it. You put music out, you get some likes and comments, but it's not until you’re actually in a room looking at your listeners, watching them connect with something you made, that you can truly appreciate it. I take a lot of pride in my live shows, and I think it is a lot easier to connect to the music in that space. You have their actual focus, the words ring out. I don’t know if people really understand what I’m trying to accomplish until they’ve seen me live.

Tori: You've been praised for your raw honesty and willingness to admit vulnerability in your lyrics. How do you think this approach has helped you build a connection with your fans, and what do you hope they take away from your music?

Decaf: I think when anyone listens to an artist, they want to know more about them, and I think it’s really easy for my audience to know where I stand on things and see me as more than just someone on stage. Music is therapy for me—both writing and listening. I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have certain songs and albums that capture my thoughts, emotions, and worldview. I just hope people can find that same connection and relief in the things that I write.

Tori: Looking ahead, what can fans expect from your future music releases, and are there any upcoming projects or collaborations you're excited about?

Decaf: I feel a momentum from this release, and I don’t want to stop! I’ve got a lot in store, hopefully before the end of the year. There’s a more moody, sort-of-unpolished EP in the works and a project I’ve been working on for a very long time that’s “quirked up” to the max—15 songs, each roughly a minute long. It’s pretty different for me, but I think people are really going to like it.