Maddy Jane Embraces the Beautiful Mess on Clear As Mud Pt 1

There’s something about Maddy Jane’s new EP, Clear As Mud Pt 1, that feels like watching a storm roll in across a rural coastline. It’s powerful, unpredictable, and entirely natural. A masterclass in emotional honesty wrapped in guitar-driven Australiana, the EP is the kind of record that doesn’t just ask to be listened to—it demands to be felt.

On the surface, Clear As Mud Pt 1 might seem like a soft reset for the Tasmanian singer-songwriter. But look closer, and you’ll see it’s more like a spiritual rewilding—an act of defiance against the polished machinery of the industry, a reclamation of voice, body, and land. Following her acclaimed 2023 EP Island Time, Maddy steps into new terrain here: unflinching, experimental, and deeply intuitive.

“It’s part of me, but not for me,” she says of the project—and that distinction feels essential. These songs are made to resonate outward, like ripples from a pebble tossed into cold water. From the first note of opener It Can’t Be Heartbreak If It’s Not Love, Maddy lays her emotional cards bare. It’s a haunting, stripped-back moment—introspective yet cinematic. The slide guitar is pure melancholy. The harmonies ache. It’s a queer heartbreak anthem that refuses to dilute its intensity for anyone’s comfort.

Then comes the thunderclap: A Woman Is A Woman. A raw electric storm of a track, it channels ‘70s rock mysticism through a uniquely queer, Tasmanian lens. There’s real fury in the guitar solos, real liberation in the lyrics. Maddy sounds like someone who’s finally learned not to apologise for her power—and who’s ready to howl it into the world. The companion track Pt 2 slows things down but hits just as hard. It’s spoken-word poetry layered over ambient textures—part meditation, part declaration, part magic spell. Think Patti Smith with a touch of Courtney Barnett.

And then there’s Thylacine. What a triumph. It's the EP’s wildest swing—and it lands. Drawing on the legend of the Tasmanian tiger, it taps into something primal and political. It’s about survival without validation, existence without proof. In many ways, it mirrors Maddy’s own path as an artist outside the mainstream system: still here, still howling, still hungry. It’s an anthem that belongs on a protest sign and a festival stage.

June offers a quieter kind of power. Inspired by seasonal depression and the long, dark winters of her island home, it’s imbued with a gentle hope. The instrumentation is lush but restrained. There’s nostalgia, yes, but also the kind of wisdom that comes from having made it through.

The closer, Dishes in the Sink, is deceptively simple. But in Maddy Jane’s hands, it becomes a soft manifesto. About accepting life’s imperfections, about sitting with the mess and choosing love anyway. It’s a lullaby for the burnt-out, a tender anthem for anyone who’s ever felt like the world is moving too fast.

Produced by Alex Burnett and Oli Horton, and engineered by Tim McCartney and Josh Needs, the EP sounds both grounded and experimental. Each song feels meticulously built but never overproduced—like Maddy’s finally found the sonic language that fits her perspective.

In a landscape where authenticity is often reduced to branding, Clear As Mud Pt 1 is the real deal. It’s a portrait of a woman standing squarely in her truth, muddy boots and all. Bold, strange, beautiful—it’s the kind of record that leaves its mark.