Loud Women Fest is explicitly women-led, community-focused, fiercely DIY, and openly uninterested in industry approval. Punk sits next to shoegaze bleeding into pub rock, and it’s just bloody good entertainment. The festival is less about the fleeting novelty of who’s on stage and more about correcting a long-standing imbalance by having femme, trans, non-binary and queer-fronted bands front and centre on the lineup. That’s just punk in the truest sense, historically and always.
I have never been in the pub watching so many women perform, particularly punk, on the same bill and it made me utterly giddy. The experience made me nostalgic for girlhood, where we ran the DIY-world we built from the ground up every day at recess – a time where everyone loved The Veronicas and Nikki Webster as much as I did. Where I could physically yell louder than I can now, somehow. I was a feral child and I yearn to be a feral woman, and this day really dug into me.
There were no barricades, no hierarchy – just bands loading on and off, sharing strings, sinking beers. From the first band to the last, the day never dipped. It just kept widening.
Hot Mess came down from North NSW and immediately set the tone with sharp, loose-limbed punk that felt written for days exactly like this. Sacred followed, with a set that was physical and full of teeth – Their screamo-leaning post-hardcore that thrives on tension.
Hail Mary Jane showed us a brand of pub rock that’s built to be shouted back. Laurapanic was one of the most impressive sets of the day. A solo noisegaze project from Newcastle that somehow filled the entire room. Her music lives in the tension between overload and control with stacked layers of distortion and feedback.
I, Doris – the LOUD WOMEN global house band – felt like the heart of the festival. With Australian fill-ins from R.U.B, it was a living example of what this whole thing is about: collaboration over ego, community over literally anything else.
Problem Green delivered deliciously melodic garage punk. The Maggie Pills, a six-piece wrecking ball from Naarm, made full use of the stage, the room, and the crowd’s dwindling personal space. Their music is chaotic, theatrical and confrontational, often pulling from personal trauma, power dynamics and bodily autonomy.
Pelvis‘s SA brand of punk is sweaty, sincere and unfiltered, built around emotional release. R.U.B followed with DIY punk that felt confrontational and desperately important. Their songs are rooted in survival and autonomy.
The Pingers were exactly as ferocious and unfiltered as promised. Four-piece punk from the Snowy Rivers, yelling about shelving MDMA. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen them, and it won’t be the last.
Second Idol had one of the most magnetic pulls of the night. Kate from Second Idol wasn’t just on the bill but helped organise the fest nationally. Their music blends post-punk, goth, grunge and alt-rock into songs about alienation and self-examination – all in a way that has Australian music fans especially excited to see them on any lineup.
JuliaWhy? might have been the most transportive set of the day. Their shoegaze-dream-pop hybrid leans lush rather than lo-fi, with songs that feel expansive and immersive. Themes of introspection, vulnerability and emotional drift floated through the room. I couldn’t look away.
Bitter Tits from Baltimore Their songs teeter on the edge of collapse, fuelled by rage, humour and sharp political instincts. The guitar tone alone felt dangerous, and the vocals carried a snarl
Whoroboros from Magandjin/Brisbane followed with a set that built walls of sound in the verses only to tear them down in choruses carved from the depths of the riot grrrl manifesto. Private Wives closed the night with a performance that was crisp, punchy, and genuinely memorable. A three-piece from Eora/Sydney, they brought garage-leaning punk with vocals that bounced between sneer and shout, sending everyone out the door with a grin.
I left with a huge sense of pride to be witness to such a fulfilling moment, a sick t-shirt, some informative zines and a complete re-jigging of inspiration at a time where anything creative (or worth shouting about) can feel so fruitless.
I lost hundreds of photos from the day in an apocalyptic-style hard drive failure, sparing the few I Bluetoothed myself mid-The Pingers-set. After going through the five stages of grief (and bargaining for days), I can only hope Australia will be blessed with another Loud Women Fest for 2026. I will be there, with friends in tow and extra cash for merch.
Photo and words Jess Hutton
