GLVES On Her Debut EP 'Belonging': 'It’s Music That Holds History Close While Imagining Something New'

Proud First Nations artist GLVES has released her debut EP, Belonging, today.

It’s an honest record packed with colours and softness, the singer-songwriter offering ruminations on growth following trauma through tracks that explore ambient electronica (Echo), alt-pop with Afrobeats rhythms (Time), and anthemic trips to drum and bass music (Honesty).

Today, in addition to the above already released tracks, GLVES shines the spotlight on one more song, Lost, which was written and produced with ARIA Award–winner Rob Amoruso. A raw yet dynamic track, Lost finds GLVES in the aftermath of the Voice referendum.

Before the EP’s release, GLVES said of the project: “For a long time, I rejected flowers, I rejected softness. I thought it was weakness, that I had to lean into masculinity to be taken seriously.

“But flowers have always been part of my lineage… Through this EP, I’ve come to see that softness is its own strength, and that to bloom, even when you’ve known darkness, is a kind of power.”

To celebrate the release of Belonging, GLVES has delved into the EP’s four songs, offering a track-by-track exploration to The Music.

GLVES – Belonging Track-By-Track

Belonging – Summary

For me, music has always been about making sense of what I’ve carried. I grew up feeling unwanted, and my way of surviving was to numb, to mask, to hide. Writing these songs was the opposite of that; it was facing what I’d buried and letting it out into the world.

Belonging is about post-traumatic growth. It’s about turning old stories of rejection into something softer, brighter, more alive. The sound sits between cinematic alt-pop and Blaktronica, a mix of electronic textures, layered vocals, and big emotional swells. It’s music that holds history close while imagining something new, a way of saying: I’ve been through shadows, but I can still bloom.

Time

Time feels like glass, catching the light. It’s luminous, fragile, but warm. At its core, it’s about connection, the reminder that being present is one of the most powerful forms of love.

The production is dreamlike and layered with glowing synths, but there’s a tenderness underneath it all. To me, it captures what Blaktronica is about, grounding yourself in ancestry and memory while reaching toward new futures.

Honesty

Honesty is straight from the heart but comes with a drum and bass edge. It starts off soft and stripped back, then bursts open into this high-energy beat that you can feel right in your chest.

It’s a song about wanting the truth, about saying: “don’t string me along, give me more or nothing at all.” The frantic drums mirror that restless, almost desperate energy of needing clarity. It’s vulnerable, but it also has bite, and that balance is what makes it so alive.

Lost

Lost is probably the heaviest track on the EP. I wrote it in the aftermath of the Voice referendum, when collective rejection reopened really old wounds for me. It’s a song about that deep ache of not belonging, of wanting care but knowing you can’t make people give it.

Musically, it moves from a whisper into something storm-like, with ghostly layers and unsettling surges. It’s beautiful but also eerie, the sound of loneliness flooding in. Through a Blaktronica lens, it’s grief, but also survival. It carries echoes of the past while still looking for a way forward.

Echo

Echo is about relationships, the ones that shape us, fracture us, and keep echoing long after they’ve changed. It’s about that distance that can grow between people you once felt so close to, and the way those memories never really leave you.

The music feels like memory itself, swelling and fading, then returning again. There’s melancholy in it, but also resilience. For me, it’s about recognising that even in loss, there’s still growth, and that the ties we carry, past and present, continue to shape us in ways that can be painful but also healing.

Belonging is out now. You can listen to the EP here and purchase it here.