Aussie grindcore legends King Parrot chat their new album, breaking patterns, and wrestling with the weight of labels.
King Parrot’s Matt Young’s voice crackles through the line like static electricity – restless, urgent, barely held together. There’s an itch beneath the surface, a nagging pulse, like he’s carrying a sentence he can’t quite finish. It’s the kind of tension that wraps itself around your mind and refuses to let go.
King Parrot are a band that thrives on that particular tension. I mean, they were named after an electric Australian bird that cuts through the sky with neon feathers and a scream that won’t quit. They’re flying hard and fast right now, darting through the country like a shockwave, crashing into towns and cities with a wild, unrelenting energy that leaves everything around them rattling.
When I catch Young on the line, it’s in a rare moment of stillness amid the madness of a relentless Australian tour. The line buzzes faintly beneath his voice, carrying the sounds of the road — engines roaring, distant laughter, the faint clang of gear being packed away.
He spits out a list of cities like a punchy recitation of war zones: Bendigo, Warrnambool, Townsville, Mackay. Tasmania next. Melbourne, Frankston, beyond. The list stretches like a frayed thread pulling them onward, tangled with exhaustion and adrenaline.
But this tour hums with a different kind of electricity. Something fresh and raw, pulsing through the bones of the band. Their fourth studio album, A Young Person’s Guide to King Parrot was recently released. Some tracks have already bled into their live set, and the change is palpable — a shock to anyone paying attention.
“It’s a relief,” Young says, voice heavy with meaning, like he’s finally stepping out from a long shadow. “Before COVID, we were stuck — same set, same songs, year after year. This new material feels like waking up after a long sleep. There’s life in it again. We’ve got maybe a couple more songs to throw in soon.”
The crowd’s response mirrors the band’s own rekindled fire. One track, ‘Fuck You and the Horse You Rode In On’, slices through the noise with a venomous grin. Young’s smirk deepens at the memory. They unleashed it at Knotfest last year — the first time they debuted a song live and heard the crowd not just hear it but own it, singing it back with a fury that caught even the band off guard. That moment hung in the air, electric and raw, like a spark setting the whole place ablaze.
The recording process behind this album was a marked shift from their usual chaos. Gone were the days of crashing into a room, letting the noise happen in wild jam sessions. The forced pause of the pandemic brought an unexpected brand of clarity to the band.
“We used to just crash in and jam until something stuck,” Young explains. “But after our six-week US tour in 2023, we went a different way. We click-tracked everything. It’s less punk recklessness, more surgical venom. The anger’s still there — sharp and unyielding — but tighter, controlled.”
There’s a kind of brutal discipline behind this new approach, a razor focus Young is proud of. It’s the band shedding layers of raw chaos to reveal something more precise — a venom that strikes hard but clean. And yet, beneath it all, the fierce unpredictability remains.
For years, King Parrot have fall into the label of ‘grindcore’. Something that Young, along with the rest of his band have mixed feelings about given their unique sound. For me, I don’t think it captures the chaos or the texture, the different threads they’ve woven into their sound.
“We got boxed in because of the intensity,” he says, voice steady with quiet frustration. “But there’s sludge, doom, rock ’n’ roll, punk — all tangled in the noise. King Parrot has never been one thing. We’ve always just sounded like ourselves. That’s the truth, and it’s what makes this band. We’re a lot more than just a ‘grindcore’ band.”
There’s a hard-won satisfaction in Young’s eyes, the kind born from carving out a space that didn’t exist before. A sense of quiet pride in steering the beast he’s helped build through years of chaos and sincere confusion.
The relentless tour presses on. Soon they’ll hit the road for an American tour supporting Pantera, a test of endurance and spirit. But for now, the buzz of home is a brief comfort. They don’t slow, they don’t rest.
King Parrot are probably the most alive they’ve ever been. Loud, unapologetic, possibly brash. Aptly named after the parrot they took their name from. They are a wild beast with wings spread wide. A band that refuses to be tamed. And this, Young makes clear, is only the beginning.
King Parrot are currently touring across Australia. They will be performing in Brunswick, Geelong, Frankston, Leichardt and Lower Belford. Tickets can be purchased here.
CORRECTION 19/6/25 10:45AM AEST: A correction has been made to a quote from Matt Young regarding being more than a grindcore band.
