The result of a three-and-a-half-month stay in hospital following a series of strokes and heart attacks saw Queensland singer-songwriter, playwright and painter Troy Brady emerge with his new name, Jungaji, and a new challenge in life.

“I walked in weighing 83 kilos and walked out 56 kilos,” he remembers the experience. “It put many things about life in perspective, and it was a truly humbling experience.

“I was confronted emotionally, physically and spiritually, but I wouldn’t take any of it back. In that weak and vulnerable state, I came out with a lot of perspective, with a clear path ahead. That was the transformation.”

For Jungaji, it was actually more than a transformation. His father and mother visited him every day, and so, too, did the spirits of his ancestors come calling. These visits reminded him more of a First Nation initiation ceremony. “It was my calling and my true test.”

He asked a nurse to take a photo of his chest post-open heart surgeries. She first refused. He insisted.

“I cried when I first saw the photo because it was such a hard hit. I look at myself in the mirror every morning. When I see my scars, they are a reflection of the road I’ve walked.”

The word “Jungaji,” explains the Western Gugu Yalanji & Birrigubba songman, “means rock as in strength, wisdom, knowledge, carrier of all that wealth. I found the balance, it kept me out of jail, and it kept me out of going six foot under. 

“I like to think I’m setting a good precedent for my son, my two grandsons, and the family and friends who surround me.”

Turning into Jungaji also made him a prolific artist. Aside from compiling songs for his newly released debut album, Betting On Blak, he’s halfway through writing his second one and has started work in Brisbane on a musical about his life, also titled Betting On Blak.

He can’t believe how these songs and stories are reaching out to him, and keeps his guitars scattered around rooms in his home so he can grab them when inspiration strikes.

A highlight was going up on stage at the 2025 Queensland Music Awards after a win for his single Gummy Bamarra (Grandson Story), which was also sung in Gugu Yalanji – a language which originates from southern Cape York. The track clocked up 255,000 streams on Spotify and received positive reviews around the world.

“(It is) more than just a song; it’s an exquisite legacy that transforms personal pain into a universal message of hope and resilience,” stated the UK’s The Little Garden. “This track is a must-listen for anyone who appreciates music that touches the soul and connects us to something greater.” 

The performer told the QMA guests of his “32-year apprenticeship.” He still calls standing on that stage “a pinch-me moment. All these years, I’d been dreaming about what it would be like to stand in that realm.

“I was always in that situation of having my foot in the door. But do you go through all of life’s challenges – loss of son, loss of marriage, loss of house, loss of father – to the point where you’re feeling I got no more in the tank, I can’t give any more.

“But it was intoxicating to be there. I’m no one-man show. I took my time thanking everyone in this beautiful community of people who encouraged me, loved me and taught me to maintain my fire. Some of them are no longer with us.”

Listenable

Betting On Blak feels crisp, modern, and listenable. Yet it is linked to distant ancient places like Gimuy/Cairns and conversations with elders.

These included his father, the 104-year-old bush man with whom he had a life-changing spiritual initiation, a late sister whom he regarded as a musical mentor in his teen days, and First Nation heroes such as Uncle Archie Roach and Coloured Stone, who inspired him to form bands.  

From his love for language and culture come songs such as Sun Moon Stars, Misson Streets, River Girl, Wakka Wakka Woma and Pilbara Man.

The song Betting On Blak is “a metaphor for keeping your eye on the prize… and the prize is you. It’s about betting you can create your road better than anyone else. 

“Out in the never-never land of the bush, your instinct is to rely on yourself rather than wait for someone to come and save you, because they might not come.

“It’s an instinct that you’re born with. It’s about celebrating your scars than be ashamed of them. I know where I’ve been and where I want to be.”

Kalkurr (The Road) features his second son, Dean Brady. In Jungaji’s early days in Cairns, his two boys would watch as he created songs, and sometimes he’d pull them up onstage with him. 

Now Dean is a songwriter signed to Mushroom Music and working with Matt Corby, and whose Motown and old-school soul influences come straight from the record collections of his father and grandfather.

“Kalkurr was written during a period when I wasn’t exactly homeless. But I was away from the boys for a time. The missus and I had a little breakup, and I moved to Newcastle. 

“Out of that emptiness was my recalibrating, just finding myself. It’s where the winds blow. I’m a hat man, I wear hats all the time, and where you rest that hat is where you think home is.”

The song is Jungaji speaking to God, to nganjan (heavenly father), and to passed high spirits wawunyor to get advice on how to make the right decisions to get back on the lane. 

It had to be sung in Gugu Yalanji: he finds inner strength, cultural identity, empowerment, vulnerability and direction when he sings in language.

Rooster

His greatest homage is saved for his father on Ol’ Rooster, a name also adopted for Jungaji’s record label.  

“I see the label as a birthing point for young creatives, not just Aboriginal and Torres Strait, but also the multicultural community in Australia. There are a lot of non-indigenous people whom I class as family.

“My father was a proud man; he didn’t drink or smoke, and he prioritised his kids. He was a true patriarch, not just for our household but for so many in the community. 

“White, black, brindle, brown, it didn't matter; he was a father figure to everyone. He gave to his family, and he gave to his community. I’ve never seen so many people as at his funeral. 

“It was a beautiful ceremony for a wonderful human being. I was blessed in all my 49 years to call that man my dad. He didn’t believe in Aboriginal stereotypes, and he made sure his children didn’t think like that either.”

Growing up as the middle child of four brothers and six sisters, Jungaji remembers being the shyest of the ten. He expressed himself by playing rugby.

At 16, he came home from school one day to find his father there unexpectedly. “I’ve got to take you to sports practice,” he said. 

The boy went into his bedroom to get changed, and there found an electric guitar, an amp, a microphone stand and a Beatles songbook.

His mother told him, “Your father heard you singing to yourself in the bedroom. He saved up for six months to get these for you.”

A sing-along with some friends to a boom box in the family garage led to the formation of AIM4MORE, which lasted for four years. 

Then came JAVA with wife Trevelyn Lakay, Banawurun (Running Water) Band, The Black Arm Band, and the family group Troy’n’Trevelyn & The Tribe.

After touring commitments behind the new album, he will focus further on working with directors and actors to bring his musical Betting On Blak to life.

Jungaji is also the Chair of the grassroots Dhadjowa Foundation, which helps Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families whose members died in custody, and advocates for those living with mental health and the chronic autoimmune disease Lupus, which he himself has battled for decades.

He also mentors those in detention centres, providing songwriting and storytelling workshops. “I tell politicians, rather than spending money building concrete jails, look at programs such as hip-hop festivals and sports matches to build up their respect for themselves and for their communities.”

As part of his album launch, Jungaji plays June 13 at Brisbane Powerhouse, June 14 at The Presynct, Nambour and June 15 at Mo’s Desert Clubhouse. You can purchase Betting On Blak here.