How do you follow up an instant classic? This was the challenge faced by King Stingray, the self-described Yolŋu surf-rock group from Yirrkala in north-east Arnhem Land, whose self-titled 2022 debut sounded more like a greatest hits collection than a first album. It deservedly won the Australian Music prize.
Thankfully, the band hasn’t overthought things. Their answer to the above question is simple: make another one. For the Dreams may as well be titled King Stingray II. The themes are practically identical: the joys of being on country (and getting back to it), slowing down, chilling out. The wind, the sun, the rain, the moon, the tides.
In that sense, there is little development from their debut, musically or lyrically. King Stingray have simply stuck to what they’re already exceptional at. For the Dreams teems with hooks, the choruses are massive and the sound is universally bright, up-tempo and uplifting. And there are no bad vibes, anywhere.
You can look at this in two ways. King Stingray could have made a record that better reflected the times and, perhaps, last year’s failed voice to parliament referendum. They could have picked up the call for Treaty; singer Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu is, after all, the nephew of Yothu Yindi leader Dr M Yunupiŋu, while guitarist Roy Kellaway is the son of that band’s bass player, Stuart.
On the other hand, why should they? Apart from wanting to establish their own identity – and, perhaps, not change a winning formula – maybe it’s just not who they are or what they’re about. For the Dreams’ opening cut, Light Up the Path, spells it out: “I’ve been trying not to worry about what’s out of my control,” Yunupiŋu sings.
Aren’t we all? The relentless escapist optimism of King Stingray can seem at odds with, well, everything. It may also be partly a product of the group’s isolation. The lyrics of For the Dreams (when not sung in Yolŋu Matha) can veer towards modern pop psychology, encouraging the listener to ground themselves, live only in the present, and so on.
But it’s hard to be cynical about the words when the music is so consistently pleasing. Southerly is pure ear candy, four blissed-out minutes which makes room for both synthesiser and yidaki: one texture smooth, the other as corrugated as a red dirt road at the end of the dry season. It’s as perfect a fusion of ancient and modern as anything on the first album.
And if there are any festivals left for King Stingray to play, this album is built for them. While there are frequent ecstatic passages of Yolŋu manikay (traditional song), the choruses are all in English, aimed at maximum crowd engagement. This is music for better times, an unbridled celebration of life. Perhaps we all need a reminder.
If For the Dreams suffers by comparison to King Stingray’s debut in any way, it’s only because it feels like we’ve heard it all before. But why wouldn’t you want to hear it again? As Yunupiŋu says in Best Bits: “All that we needed was there all along / All of the best bits, all into one.” Only a harsh critic could have asked for much more.
For the Dreams is out now. King Stingray are touring Australia in 2025: Sydney on 21 March; Brisbane on 22 March; Adelaide on 28 March; Melbourne on 29 March and Fremantle 4 April
