Stand Atlantic’s WAS HERE isn’t just a record, it’s a reintroduction. Ahead of the Sydney crew’s ambitious third LP, vocalist Bonnie Fraser opens up about escaping negative relationships, rediscovering who she truly is, and why we need more unapologetic sapphic rock stars…
‘Do your worst!’ Bonnie Fraser dares on Frenemies, her screaming vocals landing like a revved-up suckerpunch. Stand Atlantic's fighting single is just a taste of what their full-throttle new era has to offer: big sonic swings and even bigger lyrics.
It’s early morning in San Diego and Bonnie has just started her day. Running late, she crouches against the band’s monolithic silver touring wagon and hides from the sun. “We're finishing up the Summer School Tour and I've just woken up,” she says groggily.
Things have been non-stop for Stand Atlantic. Since the release of their 2022 sophomore album, f.e.a.r, the band have become globetrotters in every sense of the word. They’ve toured in South East Asia, journeyed across Europe, and opened for Waterparks in the UK. Though, for some part, this is exactly how Bonnie likes it to be. While feeling slightly burned out, she’s grateful to be here – trekking across the States, making music and meeting fans.
Rubbing her bleary eyes, the vocalist explains that she “never wanted to be that artist who doesn't change”, which plays out in the electrifying guitar riffs and trap beats that thunder through WAS HERE, signalling the band’s transformation and, incidentally, Bonnie’s revival.
Their fourth studio album is a gritty exorcism of the past, an emotional suitcase unpacking “all the hell” Bonnie has endured in the last few years. Zipping between soft rock ballads and ballistic metalcore anthems like 17 and Girl$, we’re set on the cathartic journey of an artist trying to rediscover herself again.
“We've tried to invent our own kind of genre, without sounding too cocky or stupid. We're trying to reinvent the wheel of what Stand Atlantic means every single time,” she says.
Emotionally breaking down, Bonnie admits, is part of starting over. As her personal life began to spill over, the frontwoman felt like she was sleepwalking through things, trying to keep it all together. Writing songs became harder, her creativity felt stifled by her looming anxieties.
“I didn't realise the extent of the place I was in,” she confesses. “I'm getting a little emotional thinking about it now. I was not in a good place. I'm in a much better place now so this [album] definitely means the most to me.”
While in a better mental space – which she mostly credits to therapy – Bonnie found the debilitating darkness all-consuming.
“I was in a relationship, or a situation, in my life that was not okay. I numbed myself for so long and I didn't realise that until it came to writing this record,” she begins. “I completely didn't recognise myself anymore. I couldn't tap into any emotion.”
It wasn’t until a writing session in Manchester, with long-time friend and producer Stevie Knight, that things took a turn.
“Stevie pulled me aside asking what was wrong and I broke down in tears because I don't think I'd heard anyone ask me that for a long time. I'm about to cry, sorry! I was scared because I didn't think I would ever be myself again,” she continues. “I was like, ‘Fuck me dead, who am I? I feel like I have to start again.’”
Sure enough, the singer had a new direction to follow – one without strained relationships or crushingly busy touring schedules. Having lived by the mantra of ‘Fuck everything and run’ on Stand Atlantic's eclectic last album, this time Bonnie was ready to square up with her emotions, excavating the pain and trauma that was living inside her.
“I had to dig deeper and be honest about the things that were going on.”
You don’t have to look far to find the frenzied tale of the singer’s hardest moments of her life. The souped-up heavy hitters of WAS HERE are ferocious and vengeful – as if the songs have been patiently stewing in months of frustration – sitting in an album almost two years in the making. Tracks like Criminal, featuring Australian metalcore mayhem makers Polaris, hold nothing back – ‘Keep your mouth shut / Thanks for nothing,’ Bonnie menacingly spits – recalling her destructive relationship and opinions of the music industry.
The album’s inner truth feels esoteric, almost secretive. The singer only lets us in on as much as she’s willing to let go. Her private life is scarcely detailed, but her fraught emotions are ready to let rip. It’s not an album about selling her story but a record painstakingly put together to show there’s a way out of situations that feel inescapable.
“I was shielding everything and everyone because I felt like I couldn't share my truth,” she admits. “It was a big task to be vulnerable for this record, but I did it.”
“It was a big task to be vulnerable for this record”
Writing, for Bonnie, has been like creative therapy, leading to an unintentional “full-circle moment”. In a way, she says, it’s been like revisiting her past self, one that she wishes she could’ve saved sooner.
“Comparing myself to that person is crazy. I'm so glad I got myself back – this album literally saved me, without sounding like a simp for myself,” she laughs.
As for now, Bonnie is taking everything in her stride. On tour, she pushes for downtime, opting to hang out with her so-called “circus family” (lead guitarist David Potter, bassist Miki Rich and drummer Jonno Panichi) who have been friends for over five years. She’s also accepted that the rock’n’roll lifestyle requires some life admin: interviews, photoshoots and album signings, but doesn’t let it get in the way of her usual goofy spirit. Although finding her feet amid relentless touring and songwriting sessions hasn't been easy, Bonnie has a foolproof plan in place – putting herself (and the band) first.
“I'm always trying to have the best time and not feel like poop every day,” she says. So, how does she do this? Well, it’s a make-do self-care routine to shut out the burnout. Downtime, she says, is vital. She treats her luxury spare time as a space to let go, rather than an anxiety-riddled waiting room. The aim, after all, is to not become numb, again.
“It's very easy to smooth your brain completely on the road and it feels very monotonous. It's about reminding yourself every day why we do this,” she says. Yet, despite the long drives between states and hitting up venue after venue, Bonnie can’t imagine doing anything else.
“I'm just so grateful to be in this position. I don't want any other job,” she smiles. “This is the best job in the whole world and I feel like I lost that for a bit. I would not trade this for anything, for anyone, ever.”
If you ask Bonnie, Stand Atlantic are the self-proclaimed “cuties of the industry”. Known for their nonchalant style and easy-going attitude, there’s a magnetism to their eccentric takes. After all, how many songs can you name that start with the word “spaghetti”? Even while exhausted, crouched over in a worn-out black Cigarettes After Sex T-shirt, the singer’s playful attitude cuts across.
It’s clear that things have been tough work, but she refuses to let the past muddy who she is now. She makes quips about forgetting the lyrics (“I sound so cooked!”), the management debacle that led to the text exchange as the single art for Warzone – “The scratch disks are full,” the impromptu screenshotted cover reads – and how Stand Atlantic’s new sound is received: “It's always a bad sign when the song title is in FULL CAPS,” one online comment offers.
And yet, evolution has always felt “natural”. The band have casually shuffled between styles, experimented with everything from catchy emo hooks to hyperpop tones, and ditched the idea of concept albums they explored with f.e.a.r. Now, over 10 years deep, Bonnie’s still holding tight to the dream of being a rock star. Well, maybe without the “rock” part. WAS HERE is a sporadic, post-genre mega-mash of an album. The screeching guitars hold steady, but the band drives things further, bringing in funky steeldrum sounds on Rockstar, some classic throwback pop-punk vocals on G.A.G, and black metal-inspired screams on Nosebleed featuring Sueco. The singer sheds her skin in ways like never before. She invites us in, granting us “front-row seats to her breakdown” but there’s a softer, gentler side to the record – and Bonnie – too.
“I’m freaking gay and I don’t give a f*ck who knows it”
In recent years, speculation around Bonnie’s love life has found itself strewn across Reddit subs and internet threads. Her identity, for the most part, has remained private. It wasn’t until a few years ago that the singer became outspoken about her sexuality, something she has carefully tried to navigate. On WAS HERE, she does something she’s never done before: outwardly commit to the sapphic agenda. Love U Anyway is a heartfelt admission to queer love and G.A.G is the ultimate coming-of-age lesbian pop-rock tune that wouldn’t be out of place in Emma Seligman’s gay AF cult movie Bottoms.
The choice to openly lean into her identity, she shares, felt like an act of self-liberation.
“I never really fucked with pronouns before because I wanted to be inclusive so everyone could relate to what I was saying,” she explains. “I'm now realising that I was insecure and I didn't realise it. As I've gotten more comfortable with my sexuality, and who I am, I do not give a fuck anymore.”
As more artists and celebrities choose to publicly come out, the shift in attitudes reaffirms her own decision to sing more openly about queer love and relationships.
“I love those songs. I'm super-proud of them. If there's a little queer person out there and they hear a song like G.A.G and it helps them figure stuff out then, fuck yeah, it was all worth it,” she smiles. “At the end of the day, I'm freaking gay and I don't give a fuck who knows it.”
As any queer artist will tell you, solidarity is strongest when aligned with a community. For Bonnie, the Gen Z superstars of today have been her inspiration. So, if you were to ask the singer who is on her radar right now, grinning, she would say: Chappell Roan.
“I feel like everyone in the world is listening to Chappell Roan right now,” she laughs. “It's also cool to see Billie Eilish come out [as bisexual] and embrace her sexuality. It’s like, ‘Fuck yeah we need more massive pop stars.’ I feel like this is a great time for queer music. There's an influx and everyone's fucking with it.
“It's crazy how much representation can influence everything without even you realising it. I'm so used to hearing songs by queer artists now that have ‘she’ pronouns in them, and seeing that no-one gives a fuck is actually sick.”
Ask Bonnie what she really wanted on this album and it’s one thing: three queer women. WAS HERE is a masterclass of reaching inwards, clawing out emotions, and flinging them out. The feelings Bonnie unsheathes are tormented, gruesomely dark and, sometimes, outright shattering admissions of pain – the album’s opener Wake Up, Sit Down, Shut Up reads like arrogantly barked instructions from a tainted authority. It’s the singer’s declaration that this is an album that will not hold back.
So, achieve her goal, she enlisted the help of Lyndsey Gunnulfsen and Bruses for no-bullshit banger Girl$ to sing about, well, girls, and give depth to her own inner queer rage.
It was a no-brainer for Bonnie on who to ask first. An industry-shy outreach to Lynn (“I didn’t ask her because I'd just die of embarrassment. I made our label send the demo to her like an idiot,” Bonnie laughs) started things off. Then, a message to Bruses materialised and, later, sealed the deal. For Girl$, she always envisioned it with a trio of killer female artists. “I always wanted three queer women artists. I thought that would be amazing,” she explains. The end result? An unforgettable tune that ties WAS HERE together. “I got them [both] and I wasn’t going to push my luck anymore. That's enough, we're done!”
On the other side of three queer-affirming collaborations and her most difficult life lessons yet, Bonnie is taking time to get back into the swing of things.
“I feel so much better and more in touch with myself. I'm still getting through residual things that were left over but I feel so much more myself,” she smiles.
Dragging herself through trauma, therapy sessions and countless tour dates seems to be paying off. The numbness has ebbed away and Bonnie is, once again, standing tall.
“I feel like I'm back to who I was. I feel happy I'm not sacrificing myself for someone else's benefit anymore. I'm really mindful of keeping myself happy and else.”
“I feel happy I’m not sacrificing myself for someone else’s benefit anymore”
As for what’s next, well, for now, she’s going to keep cursing the gift of hindsight.
“When I look back on it all, I'm like, ‘Who was that and I'm so sorry I did that to you,’” she says. “I'm so sorry that I fucked myself up that hard when I could have faced things head-on and gotten out of the situation earlier.”
The pits of reinvention are no easy feat. Much like Dante’s Inferno, you have to keep going to see the layers of Hell you’re faced with. Having been to the ninth circle of self-destruction, Bonnie has emerged out the other side more determined than ever – a lesson she wants listeners to take from WAS HERE. If Stand Atlantic's morbid, bloody cover art teaches you anything, it’s to not pack it in but to keep going.
“I want to be able to do this for for as long as we can and to be a good example that if you have a vision, you can be as dumb and make stupid jokes and anything is possible,” she concludes.
“I hope people know that if you want to do this, you can do it. Nothing is stopping you, really. I mean, there is, but you can get past it.”
WAS HERE is released August 23 via Hopeless Records.
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