If you want to understand the story of Australian hip-hop, the best songs of The Herd are basically required listening. Formed in Sydney in 2001 out of the Elefant Traks label collective, this shape-shifting crew of MCs and musicians never fit neatly into a genre box, and honestly, that’s exactly why their catalog still hits so hard two decades on. I’ve spent more late nights than I can count with this discography on repeat, and every relisten still turns up something new in the mix.
What makes The Herd special is the sheer size of the band itself — multiple MCs trading verses over a live setup that includes guitar, bass, piano accordion, clarinet, and samplers all at once. That’s rare in hip-hop, where beats usually come from a laptop and a sample pack. Here, you get real instrumentation wrapped around sharp, political, deeply Australian storytelling. Let’s dig into the songs that make this band’s back catalog worth revisiting.
Scallops
“Scallops” comes from the group’s self-titled 2001 debut, back when The Herd was still finding its footing as a loose collective of MCs rather than a fully formed band. It became a surprise triple j favorite and turned into something of a backyard barbecue anthem in Australia, which tells you everything about its laid-back, sun-drenched groove. The production here is looser and more sample-based than later Herd records, reflecting the group’s early days before the full band lineup solidified. On headphones, you can really hear the layered vocal interplay between the original MCs, a chemistry that would define the group’s sound for years afterward.
77%
Few Australian hip-hop tracks have caused as much controversy as “77%,” released on the group’s 2003 sophomore album An Elefant Never Forgets. The song directly confronted the federal government’s handling of the Tampa affair and asylum seeker policy, and its blunt political anger got it banned from some commercial airplay while triple j listeners pushed it into the Hottest 100 anyway. Lyrically, it’s confrontational in a way that still resonates given ongoing debates about immigration policy in Australia. The mix leans hard on a stomping, almost punk-adjacent energy that suits the fury of the lyrics, and it still sounds urgent blasted through a decent pair of headphones today — if you’re curious how different gear renders that low-end punch, our headphone comparison guide is a good place to start.
Burn Down the Parliament
Also pulled from An Elefant Never Forgets, “Burn Down the Parliament” is the other lightning rod from that record, and together with “77%” it cemented The Herd’s reputation as more than a novelty act. The title alone tells you the temperature of the songwriting, aimed squarely at political complacency and government hypocrisy in early-2000s Australia. What strikes me most is how the arrangement balances that rage with genuine musicality — piano accordion and clarinet weaving through the beat give it a strange, almost carnival-like texture underneath the anger. It’s a song built for a crowd, and the live performance energy on this one is legendary among fans who caught the band during this era.
I Was Only 19 (feat. John Schumann)
This is the song most casual listeners know The Herd for, and for good reason. The Herd formed in 2001 and released their self-titled debut featuring the triple j hit “Scallops,” before the follow-up “An Elefant Never Forgets” produced the singles “Burn Down the Parliament” and “77%.” Their cover of Redgum’s Vietnam War protest song originated as a triple j Like A Version session, and the studio recording, featuring additional vocals from John Schumann himself, was included on the 2006 reissue of the band’s third album, The Sun Never Sets. What makes this cover so powerful is the respect baked into every choice — the arrangement doesn’t try to modernize or ironize the original’s grief, it just lets hip-hop rhythm carry the same devastating narrative about a young soldier’s return from war. Schumann himself later said this was his favorite of all the covers of his song, praising how respectful The Herd was with the material and noting he even did a few gigs alongside them. Play this one loud in the car and pay attention to the strings and the restrained percussion; it’s a masterclass in knowing when not to add more to a mix.
I Was Only 19 (triple j Like A Version)
The original Like A Version session deserves its own mention separate from the studio cut, because the raw, one-take energy is a completely different listening experience. Recorded in October 2005, the performance was voted in at number 18 in the 2005 Triple J Hottest 100 and was later certified Gold by ARIA in 2023. There’s a rawness to Like A Version recordings generally — no studio polish, no safety net — and you can hear the room in this one in a way the later studio version smooths over. For anyone building a “best of Australian hip-hop” playlist, having both versions back to back is genuinely instructive about how a single arrangement idea can be dressed up two completely different ways.
Unpredictable
Jumping to The Sun Never Sets in 2005, this album was the band’s most ambitious and cohesive to that point, and it contained live favorites “Unpredictable” and “We Can’t Hear You.” “Unpredictable” leans into a bouncier, more playful cadence than the group’s earlier political material, showing off the versatility of having multiple MCs trading flows over a single beat. The horn-adjacent instrumentation and call-and-response structure make it an obvious pick for festival sets, and it’s easy to hear why this track became such a durable live staple. If you’ve never caught The Herd on stage, this is the song that best captures their crowd-work chemistry.
We Can’t Hear You
The other standout from The Sun Never Sets, “We Can’t Hear You” pairs a defiant title with a groove that’s more menacing than celebratory. Thematically it fits the band’s recurring interest in being ignored or dismissed by institutions, whether that’s government, media, or the music industry itself. The arrangement here is denser than “Unpredictable,” with the full band’s instrumentation — guitar, bass, and clarinet in particular — filling out the low and high end simultaneously. It rewards close listening on a quality set of earbuds where you can actually separate those layered parts; check our earbuds comparison if you’re shopping for a pair that can handle a mix this busy.
The King Is Dead
Fast forward to 2008’s Summerland, and the lead single “The King Is Dead” was a celebration of political change in Australia at the time. The album itself debuted at number 7 on the ARIA Album Charts, earned an ARIA nomination, and went on to win Best Independent Artist and Best Urban/Hip Hop Album at the AIR Awards that year. What I love about this track is how it balances celebratory energy with the group’s trademark skepticism — it’s optimistic without being naive, which is a hard tone to strike in political music. The horns and layered vocal harmonies in the chorus give it an anthemic quality that translates beautifully live.
2020
Also from Summerland, “2020” pairs an eerie, almost sci-fi lyrical concept — imagining Australia over a decade into the future — with one of the album’s most memorable hooks. The music video for the track, directed by Mike Daly, won the J Award for Best Music Video in 2008. Listening back now that we’ve actually passed the year 2020, there’s a strange, almost prophetic quality to some of the lyrical predictions, which is part of what keeps the song culturally relevant well beyond its original release window. The production is tighter and more polished than the group’s earlier work, showing how much their studio craft had matured by their fourth album.
Freedom Samba
“Freedom Samba” injects a bright, Latin-tinged rhythm into the Summerland tracklist, and the title tells you exactly what to expect from the percussion. It’s one of the more purely fun tracks in the catalog, leaning on syncopated rhythm rather than lyrical density to carry the energy. The accordion work here is especially delightful, giving the track a festival, block-party feel that contrasts nicely against the heavier political cuts elsewhere on the record. This is the song I reach for when I want Herd energy without the emotional weight of “77%” or “I Was Only 19.”
Time to Face the Truth
Sitting in the middle of Summerland, “Time to Face the Truth” returns to more direct social commentary, with a title that doesn’t leave much room for ambiguity about its intent. The vocal trade-offs between MCs feel especially sharp here, each verse building on the previous one’s argument rather than just taking a turn on the mic. Sonically it sits comfortably alongside the record’s other singles, with clean, punchy mixing that keeps the multiple vocalists from ever muddying each other. It’s a strong example of the band’s knack for message-driven verses that never feel preachy.
Kids Learn Quick
“Kids Learn Quick” tackles generational themes and the way children absorb the world’s contradictions faster than adults expect, a subject matter that fits naturally within the Summerland era’s more reflective songwriting. The arrangement is warmer and more melodic than some of the record’s punchier tracks, letting the lyrical content breathe. There’s a genuine tenderness in the delivery here that shows a different emotional register than the band’s more combative singles. It’s a track that rewards attentive, headphones-on listening rather than casual background play.
My Home
“My Home” leans into questions of belonging and identity, themes that recur throughout Australian hip-hop but get a distinctly personal treatment here. The instrumentation favors acoustic textures and a steady, unhurried tempo, letting the lyrics carry most of the emotional weight. It’s one of the more understated tracks on Summerland, but that restraint is exactly what makes it memorable on repeat listens. Fans who gravitate toward the band’s storytelling side over their party anthems tend to name this one as a personal favorite.
Pearl
“Pearl” stands out on Summerland for its more melodic, almost soulful chorus, a departure from the group’s rap-forward default. The mix gives noticeably more space to vocal harmonies here, suggesting the influence of the band’s rotating cast of guest and full-time singers. There’s a warmth to the production that makes this one of the record’s more radio-friendly moments without sacrificing any lyrical substance. On a good pair of headphones, the vocal layering in the final chorus is genuinely one of the record’s best production moments.
Emergency
Closing out the Summerland highlights, “Emergency” carries urgency both in title and delivery, with a tighter, more aggressive vocal pace than some of the album’s other cuts. The production matches that urgency with punchier drums and a denser low end, making it one of the more high-energy tracks from this era. It’s a good reminder that even as The Herd matured into more polished songwriting by 2008, they never lost the raw intensity that defined their earlier singles. This is a track built for a car stereo turned up loud.
The Sum Of It All
Skipping ahead several years, “The Sum of it All” was the lead single from the band’s next full-length era and was the most played song on triple j for the entire month of March upon release. The resulting album was universally praised for its sharp social commentary and complex musical arrangements, and was later named iTunes’ Australian Hip Hop Album of the Year. This single shows a noticeably more mature, layered production style compared to the group’s earlier singles, with denser instrumentation that rewards multiple listens. It’s a strong entry point for newer fans wanting to understand where the band’s sound landed after a decade of evolution — and if you’re building out a broader Australian hip-hop playlist, our full songs archive has plenty of related picks worth exploring.
A Thousand Lives
The title track from the group’s 2012 album, “A Thousand Lives” anchored a tour that saw the band play to several thousand people across the country that year. It’s a bigger, more expansive sound than earlier Herd records, reflecting a band comfortable enough in its identity to experiment with scale and arrangement complexity. The lyrical content here leans philosophical, grappling with mortality and legacy in a way that feels earned rather than heavy-handed. Live, this one apparently became something of a communal singalong moment, which tells you a lot about how the fanbase connected with its themes.
Signs of Life
Released as a standalone single in 2012 alongside the A Thousand Lives era, “Signs of Life” carries a searching, hopeful energy that fits the album’s broader philosophical bent. The production balances the band’s hip-hop foundation with more atmospheric elements, giving the track a slightly different sonic palette than the group’s earlier, punchier singles. It’s a song about persistence and small hopeful signals in difficult times, themes that have only become more resonant as the years have passed. Fans who discovered The Herd through this era often cite it as an underrated highlight.
Superheroes & Megafreaks
Released in December 2016 on Drunken Donkey Records, this three-track EP includes the title cut “Superhero Megafreak” alongside “Run” and “Baby Maybe.” Coming after a longer gap between releases, it shows the band experimenting with a slightly different sonic identity, leaning more into rock-adjacent textures than the group’s earlier hip-hop-centric sound. The title track’s chorus is immediate and hook-driven, a reminder that even later-era Herd material knows how to write for the festival crowd. It’s a fascinating snapshot of a veteran group refusing to just repeat their greatest hits formula.
Soul of My Soul (feat. Sereen, MO & Big Rigs)
The most recent entry on this list, “Soul of My Soul” was released on June 14, 2024, marking the group’s first original song together in twelve years, featuring three Palestinian guest artists. The track emerged from the heartache and frustration of witnessing the unfolding crisis in Gaza through social media, paired with the strength found in worldwide solidarity movements. It’s a genuinely heavy, emotionally direct piece of songwriting, a reminder that The Herd’s political instincts never really went away even during the band’s quieter years. Streaming royalties from the track go toward a children’s charity, which fits the band’s long history of tying their music to real-world causes rather than just commentary. This is essential listening for understanding how a twenty-plus-year-old group can still make work that feels urgently of the moment.
Frequently Asked Questions
What genre is The Herd’s music?
The Herd is generally classified as Australian hip-hop, though their sound draws heavily on folk, funk, and rock instrumentation thanks to their full-band lineup of guitar, bass, piano accordion, clarinet, and samplers alongside multiple rapping MCs.
What is The Herd’s most famous song?
Their cover of Redgum’s “I Was Only 19,” recorded for triple j’s Like A Version in 2005 and later released as a studio version featuring original songwriter John Schumann, remains the band’s most widely recognized and celebrated track.
Is The Herd still making music?
Yes. After a long gap, the group reunited to release “Soul of My Soul” in June 2024, their first original song together in over a decade, showing the band remains active and creatively engaged with current events.
Who are the members of The Herd?
The original lineup centers on MCs Urthboy and Ozi Batla, with a full backing band that has included musicians on beats, guitar, piano accordion, clarinet, and bass, plus vocalist Jane Tyrrell who joined as a full-time member after touring with the group.
Which Herd album should I listen to first?
For newcomers, Summerland (2008) offers a strong overview of the band’s mature sound with standout singles like “The King Is Dead” and “2020,” while An Elefant Never Forgets (2003) is essential for understanding their politically charged early material.