Australian indie rocker total tommy revels in the beauty of being gloriously off-center on ‘Trapezoid,’ a scuzzy, scorching sophomore album that brings life’s messiest contradictions crashing into focus. Two years after baring her scars on ‘bruises,’ Jess Holt plunges into heavier, darker territory across eleven fiercely melodic songs about love, self-sabotage, and the freedom of letting go of perfection. Speaking with Atwood Magazine, she reveals the creative breakthroughs behind her most fearless music yet and takes us track by track through the stories that give ‘Trapezoid’ its wonderfully crooked shape.

Stream: “Trapezoid” – total tommy

Jess Holt has spent much of her life trying to make the angles match. On Trapezoid, she’s finally letting them clash.

The Australian singer/songwriter behind total tommy embraces every irregular edge of her artistry on an eleven-track sophomore album that snarls with distorted guitars and revels in life’s contradictions. Darker, heavier, and deliciously off-center, Trapezoid finds Holt wrestling with the push and pull of desire, the exhaustion of old habits, and the frustrations of trying to get your life together when your head keeps getting in the way. The music is restless and gloriously unrestrained, its jagged riffs and deadpan lyricism concealing a surprisingly affectionate heart. For an artist who once prized symmetry above all else, Holt is discovering the freedom of letting things fall out of line – and finding beauty in the very imperfections she used to fight.

Breathe, piece of home, wrap my bones
I need, your body, our bed, with brand new sheets
Spent some time away, could barely eat
Ran off cigarettes and caffeine

You do it all so effortlessly
I’m tryna learn how to take care me of me
Flirting with the edge, thrashing at best
Wake up call, feel it all

Every time you think of me
Are you paranoid?
Just a liability, head into the void
Call it an anomaly, like a trapezoid
Tilted but you level me out

– “Trapezoid,” total tommy

Released October 23 via Play It Again Sam, Trapezoid marks a significant evolution from Holt’s 2024 debut, bruises, which Atwood Magazine hailed as “a bold, brash, brutally honest coming-of-age record.” That album was an emotional reckoning born from a period of extraordinary upheaval. Having previously made sun-kissed, dance-friendly indie pop as Essie Holt, the Melbourne-born musician reinvented herself after moving to Sydney, coming out as queer, ending a long-term relationship, and falling in love again. Her new identity found expression in scuzzy, guitar-driven alternative rock that gave her the freedom to confront her experiences without restraint. Across twelve intensely personal songs, bruises chronicled the mistakes, revelations, and growing pains of a young woman discovering who she was and who she wanted to become.

Two years later, Holt has a firmer sense of herself, a thriving musical career, and a life built around the people she loves.

Yet greater stability hasn’t necessarily brought greater simplicity. Where bruises wrestled with the consequences of monumental change, Trapezoid confronts the contradictions that persist long after the dust has settled. Self-doubt and self-assurance coexist; love provides a foundation even as restlessness threatens to pull everything apart. Holt’s perspective has widened, too, drawing inspiration from friends, films, and the peculiar pressures of modern life. And as her songwriting has grown more adventurous, her music has become an increasingly physical expression of the tensions underneath.

“I’m an artist based in Sydney and I make indie/rock music that’s kinda off-kilter and a lil odd,” Holt tells Atwood Magazine. “I always write with my live show in mind, so naturally I’ve been pushing the music a little heavier lately because it just feels so good to perform it and get all of that energy out.”

This appetite for volume helped shape the record from its earliest beginnings. The demands of touring after bruises reshaped Holt’s voice, bringing a previously untapped edge to her music. The change coincided with a renewed desire to get further inside the recording process, translating the visceral intensity of her performances into music that could be equally confrontational through headphones.

“I started writing for this album about a year after my first record came out,” she explains. “We’d been touring a lot, and I’d really put my voice through a lot on the road, it was getting pretty raspy and that kind of unlocked a new vocal tone which was a really fun place to start. I came into the studio with about 15 songs and flew to London to work with my friend Tom Stafford. We bunkered down for three weeks and spent so long producing the album together and trying to get every single exact sound I had in my brain. It was super fun!”

Set the record straight in a neutral place
Can you meet me at the park before it gets dark
5pm cos I got plans at 6
And I don’t think you’re gonna like the sound of this

Heartbreaker, self-appointed
Tough love not what you wanted
It’s all fun until you can’t get out
Smoke wouldn’t leak from her pretty little mouth

Heart of stone stripped with acetone
Down to the bone, again
Nicotine between her teeth
Doused in kerosene

Written between Sydney and London and co-produced by Holt and Stafford, Trapezoid pushes the scuzzy alternative rock of bruises into heavier, more combustible and abrasive territory.

Angular guitars grind and flare through roaring overdrive, pounding drums give the songs a bruising physicality, and Holt’s haunting vocals drift from breathy restraint into a ragged, full-throated snarl. Post-punk tension and grunge-era distortion collide with the sharp melodic instincts that have always defined total tommy, while the Midwest emo-inspired fingerpicking and electronic textures of “Bloodshot” widen the palette further. There’s real pleasure in how fiercely these songs hit – and how often Holt lets an uneasy texture or unexpected turn disrupt the prettiest melody. The end result sounds distinctly like total tommy, only with a greater willingness to follow a musical idea wherever it leads.

“I wanted to push this record a bit darker and heavier than my first one,” Holt says. “I didn’t shy away from sounds that felt a bit uneasy or weird. I kind of just leant into what felt good for this album, without caring as much about references or a particular genre. I just let the songs go where they wanted to go and tried to let go a little.”

That last admission is particularly revealing, because letting go has become central to Holt’s understanding of the album itself.

The title Trapezoid might initially seem like an eccentric choice, but its unusual geometry offers a surprisingly elegant explanation of where she finds herself today.

For someone who has long been meticulous about symmetry and perfection, the appeal of a tilted, irregular shape speaks to a meaningful shift in perspective. And fittingly, the song that inspired the title also provided a crucial musical breakthrough.

“It’s my favourite song on the album, and also the song that unlocked a lot of the sound for the record,” Holt explains. “Tom found this weird tuning on the guitar and it became a really strong sonic theme for us throughout. I also love that the wording has three distinct meanings – it’s the smallest bone in the hand and without it we wouldn’t have grip or dexterity. It’s also an off-kilter, tilted shape, which feels a lot like the sound and themes of the music to me. And lastly, I learnt the other day that when you fire up a projector it says ‘adjust trapezoid.’ I thought that was so cool ‘cause I have so many film references throughout the album.”

It’s an especially fitting coincidence for a record shaped by Holt’s growing fascination with cinema. Throughout its creation, she traveled repeatedly between Australia and England, spending long stretches alone with her thoughts, her unfinished songs, and an increasingly extensive collection of ’90s films. Winona Ryder became a particular obsession, her performances providing inspiration that seeped into Holt’s lyrics and the album’s visual identity.

Stoned, cross legged, knuckle to my jawbone
Elbow dug into my thigh I’m bored of
Making up excuses for my carelessness
So good at that

Late night, detonate,
I don’t think I’m thinking straight
I’m stuck on your time zone,
can’t get into my one
Jerk off, fall asleep,
something ’bout rinse and repeat
Wake up call, feel it all

Every time you think of me
Are you paranoid?
Just a liability, head into the void
Call it an anomaly, like a trapezoid
Tilted but you level me out

The long-haul flights also gave her valuable space to reflect.

Listening to demos above the clouds, revisiting ideas and scribbling observations between movies, Holt found inspiration in the strange emotional dislocation of being so far from home. As she recalls in her album commentary, “I’d have Winona Ryder films on and scribble notes in the sky, which formed a lot of the lyrics on this album.”

That sense of distance comes vividly into focus on “Winona Forever,” a yearning ode to the people and places that anchor our identities. Written in just four hours before Holt caught a flight home from London, the song captures the loneliness of living across time zones and the frustration of trying to maintain closeness through a screen. A warm guitar line and Holt’s wispy vocals suddenly give way to an explosive rock chorus, turning that homesickness into a physical rush. Its references to Reality Bites and Ryder’s larger-than-life presence offer a romantic lens through which to understand a distinctly ordinary human need: To be seen and known by the people who matter most.

Elsewhere, Holt is just as willing to turn her attention toward the less flattering corners of human behavior. The razor-edged “Pretty Little Mouth” finds dark comedy in the emotional whiplash of love-bombing, while the album’s opening track, “Girl, Interrupted,” confronts the seductive pull of temporary pleasures and unhealthy impulses. The agitated “City of Mannequins” widens that scrutiny to urban life itself, its uneasy charge reflecting Holt’s frustration as familiar places close, friends leave, and the pressure to keep pace becomes unbearable. Her writing can be mercilessly funny, but its sharpest observations often reveal an uncomfortable familiarity with the behavior she’s describing.

Hang tight, only got one more night
A rough flight, sleeping pill to speed it up
Red eye, watching Reality Bites
You always said I’d like it
Close call, wouldn’t miss it for the world
A long haul, all I do is think of youuuu
Everything is feeling new
Been missing you for a while

I wanna break outta the city
I wanna hear you say you miss me
Every time, amplified
Don’t wanna talk to you on the screen
I wanna see you move in 3D
Every time
Pay close attention
Another obsession

Holt’s affection for particular lyrics reveals how naturally she moves between romantic devotion and caustic self-examination.

“I love the lyric ‘tilted but you level me out’ in ‘Trapezoid,’ and ‘she’s just another vice, wasting my appetite, half-baked and overpriced, I’m hungry, you’re expired’ from ‘Girl, Interrupted.’”

The contrast between those lines speaks volumes. One finds stability through another person’s love; the other describes a destructive appetite that can never quite be satisfied. Throughout Trapezoid, Holt navigates the space between those extremes, examining how easily our desires can undermine our better judgment, and how difficult it can be to break patterns even when we recognize the harm they cause.

Nowhere is that struggle more personal than on “Nosedive,” a spiraling account of drinking, self-reproach, and the fear of disappointing the people closest to you. Its emotional intimacy recalls the confessional writing of bruises, though Holt approaches her frustrations here with the perspective of someone beginning to recognize her own cycles. The song’s lullaby-like pull offers a different kind of intensity, drawing us into the exhausted inner monologue beneath Holt’s attempts to keep it together. Paired with “Tearjerker,” which continues that reckoning, the song offers a glimpse of the hard-won progress taking place beneath the album’s unruly surface.

Even a how are you
Sends me into a spiral
I’m always telling you
I’m doing fine, force a smile

Take it offline, find a way to re-wire
Silence my mind, take it for a test drive
Sky dive, nose bleed
Heading for the concrete
Top speed, cheap seats
I just need your body

For Holt, these moments of discovery are among the record’s most rewarding.

“‘Trapezoid’ is my favourite song because after writing it I listened to it on repeat on my plane ride home, which just felt so special and nostalgic,” she shares. “I have never really had that feeling with a demo before, I just knew it was special. And I also love the song ‘Nosedive,’ it’s really beautiful and I think it’s quite different from anything I’ve done before.”

Holt’s willingness to venture into unfamiliar territory extends all the way to the album’s explosive conclusion, “Tailgate,” which transforms an unsettling encounter with an unsolicited psychic into a furious act of reclamation. Where bruises ended with the comparatively subdued “Shark Attacks,” Trapezoid erupts into a blistering crescendo of searing guitars and thunderous percussion, bringing the album to a ferocious, full-volume conclusion that’s as fierce and confrontational as anything Holt has recorded.

Still here crunchin’ the numbers
Weighed so deep on my conscience
You lack any substance, it’s clinical
Remember the day I met you, not the same
Something so contagious, satirical

You trap me in the backseat
Call yourself a psychic
Talk about my family
Lure me with candy
Don’t want your advice
(Ah) now I’ve told you twice
I didn’t wanna fight

Tailgate like there’s no danger
Push it down, you’re just a stranger

Yet the album’s greater intensity ultimately reveals an artist becoming more comfortable with complexity.

Holt sounds increasingly confident in her craft, even as she gives herself permission to experiment with uncertainty and discomfort. She’s making music that reflects the person she’s becoming, with all the contradictions that entails.

“I think it shows a bit of a darker side to me, and I think it really is my best songwriting yet, which I’m super proud of,” she says. “I’m not sure it’s as instant as bruises is, but I hope people take the time to get to know the songs and find their own worlds in them.”

Asked to describe Trapezoid in three words, Holt chooses a combination that neatly captures its attitude: “Tilted, brash, scuzzy.”

And perhaps that’s what makes this sophomore record so compelling. Its jagged edges and skewed perspectives are expressions of a musician finding greater freedom in her creative choices, while its lyrical honesty reminds us that self-acceptance is an ongoing process. Trapezoid celebrates the possibility of growing without demanding perfection, finding room for humor, love, and personal change amid the inevitable messiness of being alive.

“I hope people find their own meaning in the songs and that they can always come back to this record when they’re feeling alone or needing a little pick me up,” Holt shares. “I learnt a lot about trusting my instincts and pushing for what feels best for me, and I’m super grateful to have had the studio and space we had to make this album. Putting music out right now in 2026 is weirder than ever, but it’s nice receiving messages of people enjoying it!”

For an artist whose debut was defined by the scars of becoming herself, Trapezoid offers a thrilling next chapter: A little crooked, a lot louder, and increasingly at ease with its own imperfections. Holt has found her footing in the unevenness, and she’s making some of her most fearless music yet.

Experience the full album below, and join total tommy’s Jess Holt as she takes Atwood Magazine track by track through the stories, inspirations, and emotions behind Trapezoid.

— —

:: stream/purchase Trapezoid here ::

:: connect with total tommy here ::

— —

Stream: ‘Trapezoid’ – total tommy

:: Inside Trapezoid ::

— —

“Girl, Interrupted”

Sometimes we can get caught in a cycle with vices that give a temporary dopamine hit but then make you feel like trash the next day. Maybe it’s a substance, or a person you use for a quick fix and then discard because you never had the capacity to commit. That whole ‘shadow side’ of our personalities that can be quite dark and confronting to admit. A nod to the film, of course. Love you Winona.

“Pretty Little Mouth”

“Pretty Little Mouth” is a play on the saying ‘butter wouldn’t melt’. I wrote the line ‘smoke wouldn’t leak from her pretty little mouth’ in reference to a love-bomber. It’s about falling easily but ultimately getting hurt just as quickly when you get spat back out. This happened to a friend of mine recently, and this song is my deadpan, not so serious take on it all.

“Trapezoid”

“Trapezoid” is the title track of my album and was the song that unlocked the entire theme of the record. I love the double meaning of the word. Anatomically, it’s the smallest bone in the hand, and without it we wouldn’t have grip or dexterity. The smaller things make up the bigger picture kinda thing. It’s also a shape, parallel but tilted. I’ve always been meticulous with symmetry and things being perfect, but have slowly learnt to let go in the last year or so. I’m leaning into the off-kilter, and trying to let go a little more. For me personally, this meant accepting the things that make me who I am, and not forcing myself to change them.

“Gutterball”

My wife and I wrote “Gutterball” over a weekend away down on Sydney’s south coast. It was raining and we were drinking wine, dreaming about the adventures we wanted to take together but the timing wasn’t aligning for us with our own priorities in that particular year. There was a sense of frustration on both sides, each wanting a bit of a shake-up from our daily lives but knowing we both couldn’t just yet. ‘You’re a perfect strike and I’m a gutterball’ is in reference to the voice of reasoning that makes you stay focused and on course, and the other voice that makes you want to sway completely. It’s a little self-deprecating – the impulsive character thinking they know it all, and the balance of the more grounded and sensible one.

“Winona Forever”

“Winona Forever” was written on my last day in London on a writing trip with my friends and longtime collaborators John and Mark. We only had four hours in the studio before I had to head to the airport, and this time pressure actually worked in our favour because the lyrics just had to come out and I had minimal time to finesse and reword them. I was missing home and was sick of time zones and talking through a screen. There’s a picture of Winona Ryder that I’d seen earlier that day where she’s on a bike outside a block of high-rise buildings, and the imagery of that inspired me so much of how small we all are in the expanse of a city. How it’s easy to lose your identity quickly when you’re not surrounded by the people who really know you. I think I was feeling a bit lost on this particular trip, but I’m glad this song came out of it.

“City of Mannequins”

I wrote this song about feeling like you’re in a city of shiny babes who have no substance. I was starting to feel a little bored, watching cool places close down all around me, friends moving to other cities, and lockout laws killing nightlife. Sometimes major cities trick you into thinking you’re falling behind if you can’t keep up with the pace. There’s a chaoticness in the energy of this song, the way societal pressures can make you feel.

“Bloodshot”

This song is about our ability to compartmentalise hurt and how certain sounds can trigger memories. I wrote “Bloodshot” with Es.cher and he started fingerpicking the most insane Midwest emo kind of riff, which somehow took me right back to a really wild experience I’d had but never properly dealt with or processed. I hope this song encourages people to open up to their friends more and also check in with them.

“Nosedive”

There was a time last year where I was drinking a lot and got stuck in a bit of a cycle. I wrote this song during a time where I felt like I kept letting myself down and the people around me. It feels like a spiralling lullaby, a work-in-progress DIY project or something. I can hear now how I was trying to work through everything and the inner monologue I was having as I grappled with myself.

“Tearjerker”

“Tearjerker” goes hand in hand with “Nosedive,” which is why it felt important to put them next to each other on the record. It’s that same cycle of drinking, swearing you’ll stop doing it, and then undoing it all again. But hey, I broke the habit. That’s called self-improvement.

“Out of Frame”

Just a little love song, ya know. This one is very lesbian-coded, about how hard we can fall so quickly. It’s a real skill tbh. That all-encompassing syrupy, sticky kinda love.

“Tailgate”

A couple of years ago, I jumped in an Uber on the way to a wedding, and the driver told me she was a psychic. She then proceeded to ‘read’ me, glaring at me in the back seat from the rearview, telling me all of these crazy things that would happen to my family. Complete unsolicited advice. I left feeling so spun out and violated. All of the things she said sometimes still come into my mind to this day, but this song makes me feel like I’ve taken some of that power back from her.

— —

:: stream/purchase Trapezoid here ::

:: connect with total tommy here ::

— —

— — — —

Connect to total tommy on
Facebook, 𝕏, TikTok, Instagram

Discover new music on Atwood Magazine

 © Billy Zammit

Trapezoid

an album by total tommy