At the time of our Zoom, Bumpy (the musical moniker of Amy Dowd, which is derived from her childhood nickname – she was/is a tad clumsy) is “bunkering down” while recovering from a lingering flu. 

Not that we can tell, mind – Bumpy’s excitement over her impending debut album release can’t be dampened by a pesky lurgy. 

Kanana (translation: land where the sunsets) is truly breathtaking. The world-building is meticulous from start to finish, like an entire universe in an album. With its tracklisting flowing like a gently meandering stream, Kanana is a nourishing listening experience. 

After we share these reactions with Bumpy, she beams. “It's really nice to hear that you felt carried along in the water. I really thought about the listener experience with the whole progression – listening to it start and finish. 

“I really wanted to make sure it was like a little bubble for the listener to be carried along – all these different emotions and feelings – but ensure that I had you nurtured throughout the way.

“I really wanted to build a world and make you feel like you were on ‘the land where the sunsets’ or in the water for the first time,” she adds.

The opening River Skies eases listeners in. As yidaki, clapsticks and layered harmonies enfold Bumpy’s flawless pipes, the listener feels transported – dropped on Country. “River Skies is actually a Wurundjeri Dreamtime story that I did years ago as a commission with Darebin,” Bumpy reveals. “Alara Briggs-Patterson led this commission where she got visual artists and music artists to collaborate, and I always imagined, ‘I want this to be the opening of my album. 

“I want to get a massive choir and really acknowledge the place I've been living in and [where] I found all these collaborators. So bringing that to life, which felt like years of imagining what it's gonna sound like, and arranging the choir and bringing all these people together and having a big sing – it was just so magical to lean on your creative community. 

“I wanted [River Skies] to kind of be like, ‘Hey, slow down. What's going on?’ And then at the end it's like, ‘All right, welcome to the album – let's go!’ 

“I just really wanted to focus on people slowing down,” she continues. “And, you know, there's all this pressure on getting a three-minute song and having all this content and you've gotta be quick and snappy, where I'm trying to be like, ‘No, let's try and sink into something and let's draw it back to really focusing and having that stillness, or paying attention and exploring something a bit deeper.’ 

“I really wanted this album to set you up to want to have that moment of being captive – or really deep listening – and sharing a story, ‘cause that's what it was all about. It's really just a narrative, this whole album, so I really tried to figure out a way to hold you in that space and go, ‘It's okay to just sit down and listen to our album’.” 

Many of Kanana’s songs took shape during Bumpy’s 2023/24 tenure as Melbourne International Jazz Festival’s First Nations Artist in Residence, which culminated in a performance of Tooni – her collaboration with Australian Art Orchestra – in October 2024. 

When asked how many of Kanana’s tracks were not composed as part of her MIJF commission, Bumpy estimates “maybe three”. 

“I mean, it was a different ensemble with the [Australian] Art Orchestra,” she points out. “The songs were all presented quite differently. The format of the show was very different and I had spoken-word interludes and a lot of improvisation.”

Bumpy then describes the process of transcribing some of Tooni’s songs for her debut record: “We recorded just with the rhythm section that we usually play live with – the seven-piece band – and then kind of built from there, like, ‘Okay, what do we need to emphasise this?’ And my good friend Will Larsen [saxophonist, arranger, composer] was just like, ‘These songs need some horns. They gotta give me that old, soul flair’,” she recalls, laughing. “And he just came in and arranged it and brought all of that.

“I really leaned on my beautiful collaborators to go, ‘Hey, I think I'd really love to add a double bass here, rather than electric bass – for Kanana [the song] – to give it that warmth’ – having these people that I put the little idea in their hands and then they interpret it and bring it back to me was just so magical. Because, I mean, they're the pros on the instrument. So it was really special to do that.

“We're gonna take the seven-piece on the road, which will be fun. I mean, I have been performing from solo to trio to seven[-piece], but, for the most part, I'm gonna tour with the seven-piece. And for the Naarm show, I'm going to attempt to bring the choir to life to really empower the music and, yeah, let it breathe and let it live in a live space. I was really hoping to add some magic and also look at the staging and try and rebuild that Kanana world into the shows. I'm so excited to go on tour. I mean, I feel like I'm releasing this album to go out and play some more. We're always keen to do as many shows as we can over the summer.”   

Although she estimates the oldest non-Tooni album track originated about three years ago, Bumpy admits, “The actual process of getting to this point feels like forever.” 

In Return Home (from her previous release, 2023’s Morning Sun EP), Bumpy sings, “I feel those stories that we couldn't speak of/ And I feel your power flowing through my blood/ But I don't know my native tongue.” 

“Often when I'm playing live, I kind of speak to Return Home being the start of my unraveling,” Bumpy explains. “I mean, I wrote that song so quickly and then I guess it's really been able to turn into something powerful, ‘cause now I look at it and I go, ‘Woah, from that I went on this language journey.’ 

“Like, I did go back home, I was working with people that work with my nan who, yeah, was a part of the first edition of the Noongar dictionary. And just pulling all these pieces back together now, it kind of is like, ‘Woah, I was circling home this whole time and I didn't quite realise’.” 

Bumpy mentions another line somebody flagged from Return Home: “I come from water/ I come from land.”

“There's all these little nuggets that even I didn't piece together until I zoomed back or somebody else flagged it,” she marvels. “The water reference now being Maambakoort – [a song] on the album – and, ‘...come from land’ is like Kanana – ‘land where the sunsets’. So it really feels like I've come full circle of just wanting to dig deeper into all of that.”

Since releasing the Morning Sun EP, Bumpy has stepped up her language journey to continue the life’s work of her late nan, Rose Whitehurst.

The commission show Bumpy pitched for MIJF’s First Nations Artist in Residence “spoke of nan's dictionary and wanting to have the space and time to look at that in a music vessel”. “I mean, music gets to be that kind of safe passage for us to learn more about ourselves,” she observes. “And so it really gave me the opportunity to have some space.” 

Bumpy returned to Noongar Boodja with her mother in February 2024 during Tooni’s research phase. 

Together, they traced the footsteps of family and Elders, reconnecting with Country and activating memories while visiting languageholders and gathering resources: “We were over there for a month or so – three weeks or something; just in the little Camry driving down south – all the way around – and visiting with languageholders and Elders. We went nearby where my mum grew up on the mission and went to all these places that she grew up in. But we saw space and location activate all these different memories. So I was learning all these stories that I never heard before, because I guess place is tied to so many of those memories.

“But then it was kind of overwhelming, because I came back to Naarm/Melbourne and was like, ‘Oh my God, I have to write a whole commission show about this experience, and how do I even process something like this?’” she remembers, laughing in disbelief. 

“I journaled on the way and was like, ‘Let's take the immediate reactions or maybe even just really prominent experiences that happened on that trip, and let's just start there’.” 

“Kanana/ Land where the sunsets/ I bet she’ll never forget/ Djoowok baldga dji [Generations firmly united for a moment]…” – Kanana’s accompanying music video is an exquisite visual touchstone for the entire album, with Bumpy embodying different personas in a selection of handmade costumes and accessories created by Tamara Leacock (REMUSE Designs). 

“It’s all eco-friendly and she's just amazing,” Bumpy gushes of her long-time collaborator. “We've dreamed up different works together before, for different shows, and she's an incredible fashion designer and hand-makes all these pieces – she hand-dyes them.” 

Having discussed the film clip’s different “worlds” with director Emily Dynes, Bumpy recounts, “I’d take these scenes to Tamara and go, ‘What am I wearing and who am I becoming? Am I gonna be the soft, angel Kanana in the clouds or am I gonna be the staunch, boss Kanana with this big, giant hat, ruling this world?’ [laughs]

“We were just dressing up and letting this inner-persona come to the forefront, letting it run wild, and having this adult playground where we're really bringing that fun into it. We were really ensuring that we put so much care into setting up the day to be like a playground – or having this really childlike energy about us – so that can kind of come through in the video as well.

“So working with Tamara was amazing, and then I styled it all together. We'd go back and forth and, with Em, she brought this beautiful team on and, yeah! On the day, it was so tightly-packed – we maybe did two runs in each outfit – and it just had to come together so quickly. 

“I mean, Emma [Volard] and Isadora [Lauritz] – who actually sing BVs all throughout the album – are the dancers in that video, and they rocked in at, like, 8[am] and it was like, ‘Alright, straight to choreography,’ and they were like, ‘Bumpy, what are you doing to us?’ I’m like, ‘I'm so sorry, but we're all dancing.’ And it was just so fun. 

“Sometimes I feel like it's so stressful to produce something – especially when there's all this work and hours and handmade everything – and then what happens on the day is what it ends up being,” she adds.

Kanana’s music video set employed an entirely queer, non-cis-male cast and crew. “The team was just amazing,” Bumpy enthuses. “I mean, we worked with so many beautiful people saying, ‘We’d never felt so safe on the set,’ and that everybody was really respectful and, yeah, it just worked and flowed so well. 

“And I think I really lend that to Em [Dynes, director] and working with people that are very much inside our community – friends of friends, or ‘Who do you know?’ – and just bringing that community collaboration together. This way of collaborating, on this album, just showed how powerful that was and how it could translate into the work. 

“We were supposed to attempt to get all of the scenes for Kanana [completed] in the day as well as the scene in Maambakoort, where it's the studio and [it looks like] I'm kind of underwater, but we were pushing for time. And we were like, ‘Rather than rushing the look and rushing the set, let's just spread it out – take our time. We'll book another day.’ They were really responsive and the whole team was free, two days later, to get back in the studio.” 

Kanana’s lead single Maambakoort (ocean) – Bumpy’s first new music since the Morning Sun EP – encapsulates how connected she felt to her Ancestors while entering the saltwater on Country. 

In the single’s presser, Bumpy elaborates: “It felt powerful. It felt dramatic. The wind swirled around me and the light broke through the clouds. It felt like it recognised me. The water connects me to my Ancestors who also swam in those oceans, connecting me to my past, present and future generations.” 

Maambakoort trickles in serenely, before instrumentation swells to eventually mimic the sound of waves crashing. This one is buoyed by the 14-piece Bumpy Choir, which includes her siblings – Emmy Yarram, Ben Yarram and Dan Dowd – singing language. 

“They lead the way, especially in Maambakoort, and that big interlude – that's all them singing,” Bumpy says proudly. “And Ben – he's actually the drummer in my band. So, yeah, it was so magical to bring in my family who have never sung in a professional setting before. Then have, you know, the incredible Emma Donovan or some mates who I've got these beautiful working relationships with, and throw us all in a room together, have a feed and, yeah! 

“It was just so special, and very real to come back and go, ‘We're just singing, together, about something really special,’” she adds. “It doesn't need to be shiny or anything, but what it needs to be is: we all need to know where we're singing from.”

We’ve already established Rose Whitehurst was a dedicated language preserver, but can Bumpy please tell us a bit more about the woman she’s immortalised through her jaunty, brass-infused album highlight, Nan’s The Word? 

“So Nan Rose Whitehurst, she's like my nan's sister. But, yeah, my nan,” Bumpy suddenly chuckles, before acknowledging, “I don't know how to explain the relationship. But she's actually my namesake – my middle name is Rose – and I would go over a couple of times as a teenager and a little kid. She passed when I was a teenager and we flew over a couple of times to visit. But her and my nan, who lives in Gippsland, they were crazy-close – like very, very close siblings. 

“When we were kids, we'd fly over and she'd teach us different songs. I obviously didn't understand the gravity or the weight of the work that she was doing and, you know, growing up now I’m actually understanding what that work meant.

“The work that she did was just so amazing. It feels really special to come back now – just the very beginnings of my language journey – and really honour the work that she did. She was so funny and witty and, yeah, just a really staunch lady. And I've got such incredible matriarchs in my family. So Nan's The Word really was a big ode to strong, staunch black women absolutely paving and leading the way. 

“When we were talking about language and what family resources we have, we actually found these tapes that we had in our shed, old recordings of Nan talking – or there's a few lullabies or singing in language – and it's amazing. With the [Australian] Art Orchestra, they were actually able to digitise them for me and store them even safer.”

Since it only takes one generation to lose language, Bumpy is keenly aware that sharing her cultural knowledge is a matter of urgency.

“I've spoken to a lot of mob about how there's so much cultural knowledge in learning language, because just hearing a different perspective or way of talking about – you know, the sun or the relationship that we have with country or sky and how that's captured in language, is something that you can't understand just in English terms,” she explains. 

“So even just understanding a bit more of a perspective, but then also personally thinking about my nanny's life work and how it takes one generation to lose language. And so really thinking about like, ‘Well, I have to act on something,’ you know? It's that cultural responsibility and it's a part of my legacy to be a part of this. 

“I’m also just feeling really proud of getting all my family together and going, ‘Hey, let's learn some language. Here's some posters’ – we've all got, you know, the weather and the greetings all around our house. So I guess even just starting that journey and having all these little gems of, yeah, figuring out different perspectives in language, but also in our family legacy and history has been just amazing.

“I think what makes it so tricky is that I thought, ‘When we go over there, I'm gonna get all these resources and we're going to be filled with ways and approaches’,” she reflects. “And I think that was the most challenging part of the trip, going over there and being like, ‘Woah, the resources are really limited’. And navigating finding languageholders specific to my area and my bloodline was so tricky. 

“So we kinda came home and it was like, ‘Okay, I've got all these options, but what is the way forward?’ And it seems like that oral communication and oral tradition is still the most trustworthy and prominent resource that we have, and speaking to our Elders and just really making sure that that is at the forefront of it all, because, yeah! It's just so hard to find, and you go over there and you're like, ‘Well, shit! There's not much here.’ 

“And there's a lot of grief that's wrapped up with going back and trying to reconnect, because you realise just how much more you've lost. So, yeah, I guess navigating all of that when we were over there was really hard. And to be with my mum as well, and talk about their history, because there's a lot of my family's history that I hadn't learned before. So I guess the whole journey of even starting to learn language like this, and opening up those wounds, is such a big thing to navigate.”

Bumpy wrote Pressure, one of Kanana’s “oldest” songs, in the aftermath of 2023’s Indigenous Voice Referendum.

“The big cymbal crashes in Pressure – I wanted you to feel tense and then a release. It felt dramatic and it felt big. Pressure was really special,” she allows. “This wasn't a part of the show [Tooni]. I had actually written this very much as a response to the Referendum and I guess how I hold those feelings. And I was speaking to my mum and my nan, who have worked in Community their whole lives. And then obviously to see something like that and yarn to them about that outcome was just heartbreaking. How do you hold that and how do you move forward with that? 

“I think [Pressure is] a really beautiful song that always feels relevant. Even in this past fortnight with everything that has been going on, that song has really been able to hold me again. It's a great reminder that whatever you can do with your platform is powerful and important, but also it's really hard to just keep extending yourself and having to be the one on the stage fighting for your rights all the time. And that pressure of how many times you walk in a room and you're the only black woman in the room, and so you're speaking for a whole community on your shoulders. 

“So this song was really acknowledging that, but also trying to break it down into, ‘All I can do is feel strong in my body, feel strong in my mind, look at my people around me and have ownership of that, and have ownership of myself and my own identity – nobody else can take that away from me.’ So it's releasing this rage and this anger that I'm feeling, and then at the same time going, ‘Okay, let's bring it back to your body and just remember who you are and that that is always enough.’

“I guess music feels like the safest place for me to talk about it as well, you know? You're protected. And I also feel like it's another way of communicating to people where they might actually understand what you're saying. It's not just my words, the whole band and how we orchestrate can provoke that sense of feeling. And maybe somebody will understand it better when I sing to them about it, or maybe they'll connect to it in a way that, yeah, is a different approach. And if that can be my contribution to help somebody understand or to help find progress or activism – you know, I really think vulnerability is strength and if I can put that into my music, and share that with somebody else to make change, then that feels so powerful to me.

“I mean, it's often stuff that everyone feels uncomfortable to talk about. But, yeah, maybe it's just more approachable if you can listen to someone singing about it.

“Particularly in this album, I definitely accessed my voice in different ways than I have before. I actually recorded and produced all my own vocals for this album and I had never experienced that before; where I just put myself in the recording studio for three days and engineered it myself. It was just me and I went a bit crazy [laughs], because you have so much creative freedom, but then you also get so meticulous about everything. But it also just gave me the space to go for everything and have no shame around it.

“That real tenderness and, you know, there's so many moments where I was literally whispering singing into the microphone and finding these different natures about my voice and, yeah! I guess it was so fun to explore the craft of singing on this album, and having those big soul moments and projecting, and then finding these little tender, raw moments – I really loved putting it all together and then singing it with the big choir. And, you know, nothing like having 15 people singing your songs with you and singing over the top of them. So exploring my voice on this album was a really fun part of it.”

“[Releasing Kanana] feels like it’s a bit of a full stop, and now I can access music in another way for a little bit. I feel like I had a mission through this album and I have completed this circle and now I’m like, ‘Okay, music, what journey are we gonna go on next?’ So I’m excited.”

Bumpy’s Kanana is out now through Astral People Recordings.