Ones2Watch Home

Photo by Suzanna Gaunt

Trapezoid: The smallest bone in our hand. Also, a slanted, yet parallel shape. And now, it is total tommy’s amplifying sophomore album. Taking inspiration from a shape is already alluring on the surface level, but to incorporate the duality behind said shape’s definitions in such a natural, honest way is truly a captivating form of introspection and artistry from total tommy. Within the shape’s meanings, total tommy connected how the smallest things can have the most effect in the big picture, and how allowing herself to lean away from rigidity and perfection allowed the heart of Trapezoid to really shine. Beneath the album’s searing guitars, shifting rhythms and lively soundscapes lies a more vulnerable thread that leaves the listener aching to pull it and watch everything unravel. 

Written across London and Sydney, and co-produced with Tom Stafford, the record finds total tommy embracing a more abrasive, guitar-driven sound, drawing on everything from grunge and emo to pop-punk. Following singles “Pretty Little Mouth,” “Winona Forever,” “Trapezoid” and “Tailgate,” the album sees total tommy push into bolder sonic territory while carving out a more assured artistic identity, which she’ll bring to stages across Australia on a headline tour this November.

Opening with “Girl, Interrupted,” total tommy immediately spirals into the entrapment of dopamine chasing, exploring that stubborn, detrimental part of ourselves that doesn’t care how bad the comedown is, as long as we get that fleeting spark of relief and excitement. It’s the kind of behavior we either try to ignore or end up embracing to the fullest, most chaotic extent, and the song’s musical flow captures just how difficult that cycle can be to control. In the verses, total tommy’s lower vocal tone carries a couldn’t-care-less attitude, as though she’s currently dealing with a morning-after situation. Playful, albeit painfully relatable ad libs — “Aspirin, spiralling” — backs total tommy up, while the guitar flows alongside her voice like a partner-in-crime in instrumental form. As the track builds, her voice gains a new, emo-laced strength, launching into an explosive chorus alongside the bare crunch of the electric guitar. The result is a striking contrast between the revelry of vices and the crushing weight that comes crashing down once their effects wear off.

Written with her wife during a rainy weekend away on Sydney’s south coast, total tommy perfectly explains “Gutterball:” “‘You’re a perfect strike / And I’m the gutterball” is in reference to the voice of reasoning that makes you stay focused and on course, and the other voice that makes you want to sway completely.” There’s an edge to her vocals, an almost self-directed annoyance at her own immediacy for impulse, even as she continues to want what she wants. “Wanna be in Mexico / Chasin’ summer on our own / Yeah, hesitation scares me / And I don’t know” encapsulates that desire to escape and to have new experiences, to choose adventure over the sensible option. Grit-infused guitar and restless drums drive the track forward, while the bassline somehow manages to steady the song and amplify every other element at once. It’s a familiar contradiction: knowing what the “smart” thing to do is, accepting the reality of bad timing, and still feeling that stubborn urge to throw caution to the wind.

This urge to escape the confines of expectation takes on a different shape in “City of Mannequins,” where an eclectic kind of wildness intertwines itself with the song’s energy, harnessing the chaos — both internal and external — that society can create through its unrealistic expectations and pressures. Yet on “Bloodshot,” total tommy turns toward an experience she had never effectively processed, explaining that she wrote the track with Es.cher, and a single “mis-west emo kind of riff” ignited the flashback. The song’s warm, mellow, almost melancholic introduction gives way to deep-toned synth additions that inject a haziness, while the emotionally raw instrumentals urge the rough feelings to the surface. The drums provide a powerful push, particularly as they build behind her voice in the pre-chorus, embodying the emotional mayhem that erupts when a memory catches you off guard. There’s a biting quality to her delivery, giving the poetic bluntness of the lyrics a visceral effect: “Can’t take it / So she fakes it / Slow motion / Too outspoken / White knuckles / Know you’re suffering.” 

That vulnerability finds a quieter expression in “Nosedive,” where whispery spoken word introduces a softer, almost fragile duality to the album. Its vulnerability is more openly recognizable, with the bare-boned simplicity of the drumbeat and the waviness of the guitar providing the perfect backdrop for total tommy’s confessional storytelling: “Don’t want to bring the heaviness back to our bed / Another drink, still tryna shake this mood / I’ll be too drunk to make sense to you.” There’s an aching honesty to these lines, in the attempt to keep personal turmoil from spilling over into a relationship while simultaneously reaching for something that might make the heaviness easier to bear. 

Being “Nosedive”’s sister song, that same awareness of self-destructive cycles resurfaces in “Tearjerker,” which shifts the previous track’s gentle spoken-word sensibility into something more attitude-driven and conversational. A thumping bassline contrasts with the airiness of the drum flow, and when the chorus arrives, the instrumentals cut out to give her vocals plenty of space, allowing the emotion to land without distraction. The song understands the frustration of recognising that the cycle you’re caught in is damaging, knowing that your choices are causing disappointment, and still finding yourself right back where you started.

But for all the introspection and emotional heaviness, Trapezoid also leaves room for the lighter moments that make life’s mess worthwhile. “Out of Frame” is a sweet little upbeat love song that embraces a freeing sense of adoration, unapologetic longing and the idea that time is a construct that love doesn’t necessarily adhere to. Its guitar solo feels like all those love-filled emotions crashing together, overflowing in a moment of unrestrained affection.

From the dopamine-chasing recklessness of “Girl, Interrupted” to the unresolved memories of “Bloodshot,” the fragile confessions of “Nosedive,” and the free-falling romance of “Out of Frame,” Trapezoid is an album that moves through a spectrum of not just sounds, but emotional phases as well — resulting in a brightly confident piece of work that is, and will continue to be, an absolute standout in total tommy’s discography.

Listen to Trapezoid below: