Melbourne Singer/songwriter TAMS/N OTWAY doesn’t just release songs; she builds small, intricate worlds. Her latest single, “Wallow,” is a testament to this, a track that transforms a moment of lockdown claustrophobia into a grand, theatrical statement of emancipation. The catalyst was a bird persistently pecking at her window—an act of natural defiance that becomes the track’s central, soaring metaphor.
TAMS/N’s genius lies in her textural layering. She constructs the song’s very environment from its core concept, weaving chopped-up avian samples into a synth-bed that feels both intimate and expansive. This is meticulously crafted pop, born of isolation but yearning for the rafters. The production, entirely her own, avoids mere pastiche, instead carving out a space that feels uniquely hers: a blend of Chappell Roan’s dramatic character play and the wounded, cinematic sweep of a Lana Del Rey ballad, all building to a gloriously cathartic saxophone solo that feels less like an interpolation and more like a necessary emotional release.
There’s a palpable sense of legacy here, too—the quiet determination of an artist who learned that music isn’t a pursuit but a way of living, passed down from a father playing RSL clubs. This grounding in raw, human experience is what prevents “Wallow” from being just a stylish exercise. It’s a deeply felt, visceral anthem that confirms Otway’s arrival as a pop storyteller of fierce vision, one whose work feels destined for a larger canvas, both on stage and, undoubtedly, on screen.
For an artist still on the cusp of her debut album, the single positions her less as an emerging pop act and more as a storyteller with an auteur’s vision — someone who sees songs not as products, but as living, breathing worlds.
More than just a song, “Wallow” is a declaration: proof that pop can still be powerful, cinematic, and deeply human
