When people talk about »Anglo-Saxon« music and its dominance in pop, one continent is usually left by the wayside or so-to-say ‘down under’. Australia continues to be left somewhat on the fringes of music even to this day. And in this fringe position, the band Hydroplane take on even more of an fringe position, i.e. at the fringe of the fringe. Emerging from the tape band The Cat’s Miaow after their drummer left them, Hydroplane were practically forced to release their first album – actually, they only wanted to release a single with the promising title »Excerpts From Forthcoming LP« at the time. Their self-titled debut album was even released in the US, albeit on the most independent of labels, Drive-In Records. The mixture that Hydroplane presented to the world in 1997 was inconspicuously quirky: songs with gently strummed guitars and stumbling breakbeat samples, over which singer Kerrie Bolton effectively arranged simple melodies with a voice as quiet as it was clear, drones with and without guitars, and various electronic interludes that, with their brittle introspective nature, fitted perfectly into the understated rock blueprint. All music to which the listener can excellently gaze at their own navel – not because you would get bored. It’s too beautiful to be called indie rock.

Hydroplane