SYCAMORE Gets Nostalgic With New Single 'Old Adelaide'

Adelaide rock outfit SYCAMORE know how to grab you by the chest and not let go. With riffs that bite like Sam Fender and basslines that stomp in true FOALS fashion, the band has built a reputation for live sets that feel more like adrenaline shots than concerts. Now they’re pulling back the curtain on something more vulnerable with their latest single, Old Adelaide.

The track has been sitting in their back pocket for five years, marinating, shifting, and evolving, until the moment finally felt right to let it breathe. And it doesn’t just breathe; it aches. Old Adelaide is a ballad that digs into the bittersweet reality of people moving on, whether it’s friends, lovers, or family, and the hollow spaces they leave behind.

Nostalgia drips from every note, but SYCAMORE doesn’t spoon-feed you the story. Instead, they hand over the song like a mirror, letting listeners project their own experiences onto it. For some, it may echo the sting of lost love. For others, the absence of a best friend who vanished without warning. Whatever the case, Old Adelaide strikes that universal nerve of realizing nothing stays the same forever.

“A sense of nostalgia, a chance to unpack and relive special moments,” the band explains. “For those people hanging onto a person or a moment, people with hope.”

With Old Adelaide, SYCAMORE proves they’re more than just purveyors of high-energy chaos; they’ve got heart, too. This release feels like a turning point for the South Australian crew, a new chapter that promises to keep pushing boundaries while staying rooted in raw, human emotion.

Old Adelaide sat with you for five years before release—what kept you holding onto it, and what finally made now feel like the right time to let it out?

The song began with a simple riff and a few one-liners, then sat in the 'musical abyss' for a while. Once we found our momentum, we started piecing together ideas and finally brought it to life. We loved playing it live, and we felt now was the right time to release it. One of our family members recently moved into a nursing home and has been missing her home deeply. Releasing this song now feels like a meaningful way to revisit and cherish those special memories. What we love about this song is that it holds a different meaning for each of us.

The track digs into nostalgia and loss. When you perform it live, do you tap into a specific memory, or does the meaning shift every time you play it?

What we love about this song is that it means something unique to each of us. Loss has a way of shifting perspective, and that shift played a significant role in how we were able to finish this track. 

SYCAMORE is known for big, high-energy riffs and live shows. How do you balance that bold side with the vulnerability of a ballad like Old Adelaide?

We've never really been ones to pigeonhole ourselves as a one-trick pony with one sound.  We've always loved mixing things up. We enjoy experimenting with different vibes, tempos, and sounds. For us, songwriting is all about chasing the feeling. This song reminds us of that overwhelming feeling of loss, but being able to celebrate the bloody good times had. 

Adelaide has its own distinct music scene. How has the city shaped your sound, and does Old Adelaide feel like a love letter or a goodbye to your hometown?

Adelaide is incredible. It boasts a rich history of strong bands and artists, many of whom we listen to on repeat. We love being part of the live music scene here. It's definitely been a challenging ride for everyone involved since 2020, from venues and promoters to artists, but we have so much respect for those who've pushed through the hard times to keep the scene alive and give new artists like us a chance. Adelaide really is something special.

You've said you want listeners to create their own story with this track. What's the wildest or most unexpected interpretation of your music you've ever heard from a fan?

Great question! One of the more unexpected bits of feedback came from a rocker after we played a support gig with the NZ band Dragon. They told us we "weren't quite loud enough," but then added that they heard us clearly from the back of the hill while sitting in a deck chair. It's a bit of a contradictory one to respond to, but it stuck with us. Ever since, we've always made sure to soundcheck properly, haha. A key lesson was to never leave your guitars out when it's windy. We once came back with only five minutes to spare before our set, only to find the neck of our Hagstrom had snapped. Was brutal.