For the worst person alive, G Flip sure can pull a crowd. The 30-year-old multi-instrumentalist, fresh off a sold-out tour of the United States, stands down-centre of a cramped Sydney stage. Around them, a symphony of sonic carnage is reaching a rousing crescendo. Floor toms are hurled into the air, microphones sent hurtling to the floor and a Gibson Flying V, somewhat aptly, gets launched off to one side. It’s chaos of the highest order and G Flip, all 5”3’ of them (5”4’ in Timbs), commands the scene.
Here, in this room full of 500 unknowing fans, drenched in sweat, fists raised triumphantly in the air, a change is coming. By the time ‘Gay For Me’, the non-binary artist’s resounding queer anthem, reverberates through the dual Marshall stacks, the transformation is complete. No longer just another artist with a string of catchy hits and thumping live show, G Flip has ascended to icon status.
“I never thought that it would get to this big of a level,” G tells me when we catch up after the show. “I was just excited to play 300 capacity rooms, and now I’m selling out tours across Oz – it makes me cry.”
“I remember walking into the Enmore Theatre for soundcheck and just bawling my eyes out. I’m getting teary thinking about it now because my life is such a dream. I’ve wanted to do this for so long and I just can’t believe it’s reality.”
For G Flip, real name Georgia Flipo, the last few years have felt like a blur. Following the release of their ARIA chart-topping sophomore album DRUMMER in 2023, they’ve headlined world tours and festival shows, made television appearances and even launched BOX, their own alcoholic juice brand. Truthfully, success has become common practice for G Flip, but it didn’t, as they rightly point out, happen overnight.
It’s a blustering Tuesday afternoon in Sydney when we make our way to the top of The Waratah, a dinky little pub in the epicentre of the city’s LGBTQI+ scene. When I arrive, Flipo, halfway through tucking into a rice paper roll, is already musing about Chappell Roan’s latest effort.
“’I’m so obsessed, I can’t stop listening and drumming to it. It’s just so fun. I played some Pride shows with Chappell and her audiences are so loving – they had no idea who the fuck I was, but they listened and by the end, they were into it. She’s just incredible and her music’s incredible, and I’m such a big fan.”
In between bites, they roll their fingers across an invisible drum kit, bashing an imaginary snare with the very same energy I witnessed on stage the night before. Watching G, dressed in a trademark sleeveless cut-off and Def Leppard bandana, complete fill after effortless fill, it becomes clear that drumming is more than just a beat to put music to.
“I’m forever going to be a drummer that sings. I’ll never be a singer that drums, ever,” they laugh. “Drums is my number one, my most comfy place and I love it there.”
A love affair that started when they were just nine, Flipo’s relationship with the drums has taken on many forms, from teacher to session musician, but it was the unglamorous world of tour buses and dive bar stages where they found a home. The travel was brutal and G’s talents were often buried behind a wall of sound, but Melbourne’s underground music scene proved the perfect hunting ground to hone the craft.
As they explain, “cramming in the car, sleeping on couches, sleeping on floors, and playing live” became a huge part of their life. Embracing the grind by playing “shitty venues” and on “shitty fucking drum kits” made them resilient, so when it finally came time to step out from behind the kit, G was ready. Or so they thought.
In the Summer of 2018, Flipo’s life changed forever. The multi-instrumentalist dropped their first single, About You, on the unsigned local artist database, Triple J Unearthed. A self-produced, self-engineered project recorded in the dark recesses of their bedroom, the track showcased Flipo’s unique ability to fuse genres and elements at will, intertwining heavy bass with soaring vocal melodies. It was an instant success. In the space of one evening, Flipo went from a complete unknown to the most promising young act in the country.
“The day I uploaded About You, the 13th of February 2018, changed my life, and I just sat in my room and watched my whole life change overnight,” G says. “I woke up the next day and my song was Pitchfork’s Best New Song of the Week, and then it started travelling overseas and I started getting shows. It was such a blur.”
When I ask them why, amongst the sea of new tracks uploaded to the platform every day, that song managed to capture so much attention, Flipo is a little coy, but the answer is clear. About You, and their subsequent debut album About Us, were conceptually different from what Aussie listeners were used to. The lyrics were raw and honest, broaching emotionally charged subjects like sexual identity and heartache, but with a healthy dose of cynical optimism thrown in. It was an awakening.
For so many years, the wall of toms and cymbals had provided a physical barrier between Flipo and the audience – hidden in the background and far from view. With About You, it was their story out in the open and it resonated.
“I feel like my writing style, and just me as a human being, is pretty straight to the point. I just say it how it is. I don’t know how to fluff around and obscure the message,” they explain. “I write lyrics about how I’m feeling, exactly how it is. It’s cathartic. It’s almost like a bit of therapy for me, I guess.”
“It doesn’t really matter what people think. Maybe they’ll like it, maybe they won’t, but I really enjoy it so it feels right. It’s a gamble when you put it out; is there going to be a positive reception or not? But in the end, even if people didn’t like my music, I’d still be a musician.”
For Flipo, speaking honestly comes naturally. There is no nuance or pretence with the Aussie star; just an artist who isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in. And it hasn’t been easy. As a proud advocate for the LGBQTI+ community, Flipo has become the proverbial, and sometimes literal, flag-bearer for an emerging brigade of Aussie artists. Alongside names like Baker Boy and Troye Sivan, they are championing a new approach to diversity and inclusivity in art, providing a voice for the voiceless. It’s a role that Flipo, a non-binary person themselves, takes very seriously.
“When I was a kid, there were never any queer artists out there in the world,” they tell me. “I really struggled with my gender identity and my sexuality growing up, because there wasn’t a pop artist or a rock artist that was anything like the human that I was seeking.”
“I really struggled with finding idols. A big part of my project is to become the role model that I never had when I was younger.
“It’s always emotional. It’s especially emotional when there are kids who are dressed up like me with a bandana and a wife-lover singlet on. It means so much just because, growing up, I know how much it would’ve helped and changed my life to see someone like what I want to be. I want to fill that void that I had growing up and become that for someone else.”
Listening to Flipo speak, it’s clear that passion is the weapon of their creativity. Behind every track and album release, there is a multitude of moving parts and you get the sense that Flipo has had a hand in every one of them. So when we eventually get to DRUMMER, the ARIA Award-winning smash hit, I’m entirely unsurprised to learn that G handled co-writing and co-production duties across every song.
“I feel like I’m not really just a songwriter that writes a song and then gives it to a producer to make it sound how it is,” they say. “I’m involved with all of it because I just like adding all the instruments, playing all the things, going through how it sounds and coming up with different ideas. I love to ad-lib, adding different sounds and different pedals. ‘Let’s run that guitar pedal through that fucking keyboard, or let’s put my vocal through it’. Trying different stuff is really fun for me and is my favourite part of the process of it all.”
With DRUMMER, you see G at their most creative. The product of months of isolation spent tinkering with tracks and melodies, the album is a perfect fusion of punk, rock, and pop influences, complete with soaring highs and emotionally charged lyrics. It was written, G explains, over the COVID period—a time that saw producer Aidan Hogg transform G’s Los Angeles home into a working sound stage.
“The whole house is just instruments everywhere. We were locked down for weeks on end making the record, producing everything, playing all the instruments and hitting the drums; my neighbours fucking hate me.”
The 12-track ode to the instrument that made them was, in familiar fashion, an instant success. Number one on the ARIA charts, DRUMMER catapulted G Flip to a new tier of performer, nabbing them a swathe of nominations and industry gongs in the process. Tracks like lead single Be Your Man were immediately embraced by the queer community and, returning right back to where it all started, breakout hit The Worst Person Alive stormed into second spot on the Triple J Hottest 100. It was a full-circle moment six years in the making.
“I still pinch myself, but at the same time, I know I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I was very relentless.”
“It was always my dream. It was always in the back of my head and I never let go of that. I knew that I would keep working at this until I was 80 years old. If it didn’t work, I’d just keep working at it. So I’m very grateful everything worked out for me.”
Watching G explain their remarkable rise to musical prominence, half-eaten rice paper roll flailing wildly with every exaggerated action, it’s impossible to keep the smile off your face. Amid the many and varied air drum breaks and the crack of BOX alcoholic juice tinnies, the rich timbre of a harsh Aussie accent still rings true. Make no mistake, despite years of living in L.A., there is nothing Hollywood about G Flip, and that’s worthy of celebration.
In truth, Flipo is one of our last true mavericks; a trailblazing artist who marches, quite rightly, to the beat of their own drum. After all, life’s too short to worry about what anyone thinks – least of all, your fucking neighbours.
