Beyond the Music: How a Solar-Powered Tour Is Transforming Remote Australia

Half a dozen kids swarm around the drum kit as Melbourne band Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever rips through a set at full tilt. The kids aren't supposed to be on stage, but they are compelled. Maybe it's the music, maybe it's the excitement of the gig in their small, remote community, maybe they just want to bash things.

This is the Guts tour — a roaming, solar-powered concert series that snakes through some of the most remote communities in the Northern Territory, bringing together bands from the city and the bush. But it's not really about the shows. As co-founder Jack Parsons says, "This tour isn't about selling tickets. It's about experiencing and learning."

From a Melbourne Porch to Remote Communities

Guts founders Parsons and Jimmy Clark first met at a share house in Brunswick in 2015. The idea was inspired by the Warumpi Band and Midnight Oil's famous 1986 Blackfella/Whitefella tour. "Guts was about taking live music to remote parts of the country that are starved of it and starved of opportunities," Clark says. But that framing didn't last. Somewhere between the first few tours and now, 10 years in, the purpose sharpened. "I think we found the special sauce," Clark says. "We found the beauty in playing out in remote communities."

There's a persistent idea that remote communities are sparse, silent blank spaces. Stella Donnelly says, "I think there's this idea that we're heading out to communities that have nothing. And it's just not the case. We arrive and we're immediately connecting with musicians. With a rich music community that already exists here."

In Beswick, local band the Wugularr Drifters — a cross-community group — play a set of quiet confidence, with a guitarist who shreds like a virtuoso. In Bulman Weemol, kids are writing songs in the severely threatened Dalabon and Rembarrnga languages. Learning-on-country coordinator Susie Stockwell says, "We're trying to bring those languages back into the community and keep them strong." Local man Euen Martin steps forward to sing a song in Dalabon. Parsons later says, "Only six or so people spoke it. And he sang us songs in that language. I won't forget that."

The Gift of the Long Road

Touring in Australia is difficult. Distances blow out, infrastructure thins, and regular touring circuits disappear. "Australia is a hard place to tour because it's so big," Parsons says. "In the US, you're driving three or four hours between big cities. Here, it's just vast. It's isolating." What that means is fewer chances to see live music, and fewer visible pathways into making it. "You can't be what you can't see," Donnelly says.

When the Docker River Band step on stage, that idea becomes tangible. The group — six quietly spoken men from the APY Lands — play desert reggae, singing in Pitjantjatjara and English. "Music brings everyone together," says frontman Roy Jugadai. "We play desert reggae … we sing in Pitjantjatjara." Out front, the kids watch closely — the dancing becomes studying. They are seeing something possible: a version of themselves onstage.

For bands coming from the city, the exchange runs just as deep. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever guitarist Fran Keaney says, "We don't do enough of that in Australia. Connecting with our First Nations people." Around camp, on punishingly long drives, the learning happens gradually. "We've toured a lot," bassist Joe Russo says. "And every city kind of feels the same. This is completely different. It's about learning, looking, listening, connecting."

How It All Works

Guts runs on a solar-powered PA system — four panels strapped to a truck, batteries recharging on the road. Setup is collaborative; everyone has a role. They call the core crew "the spine" — four men who drive, organise and solve problems. "And every single day," Clark says, "we've faced some level of adversity." Flat tyres, bogged trucks, lost keys, bus doors that stop working. But there's a mantra: "When it all comes together, we go, 'Up the spine!'"

For Donnelly, the effect is hard to overstate. "This has probably ruined normal touring for me for the rest of my life," she laughs. "I think I've gained more from this than anyone's gained from me being here."

Connection Is the Game

The concerts are stunning, but long after the trucks are packed, the impact resonates. Years of Guts tours prompted the creation of the Bush Music Fund, a registered charity that provides long-term financial and operational support to First Nations musicians from remote Australia. The fund was inspired by a conversation with Donovan Mulladad of the Eastern Arrernte Band, who said, "It's really nice that you come out here … but we need opportunities everywhere else." So far, the fund has supported artists like Ripple Effect Band, Mulga Bore Hard Rock, and James Range Band to further their careers.

Decades on from when Blekbala Mujik founder Peter Miller first started playing music, he remains struck by the effect live music can have on young people. "I never thought that something like this was going to happen out here in the middle of Arnhem Land. And that music is just playing so vividly to the imagination of all these little kids that are here tonight."

Back in Beswick, as the Docker River Band starts, the kids wander to the front of the stage, their eyes widen as they absorb every note. These visiting musicians might speak a different language, but they feel far more like them than the stars on their phones. Earlier, bashing the drums had felt like a novelty. As they watch these men on stage, some of them might now see it as their future.