Andrew Farriss was always the engine room. While Michael Hutchence provided the velvet-drenched swagger and the Dionysian front for INXS, Farriss was in the back, meticulously crafting the riffs and rhythms that defined an era of global pop dominance. But the 1997 suicide of Hutchence didn't just end a band’s trajectory; it shattered a creative North Star. For Farriss, the road back to a solo spotlight wasn't paved with synth-pop or stadium anthems. It was paved with dirt, grit and the honest acoustics of the outback.
Holding the physical pressing of his self-titled debut, you feel the weight of a man who has traded the neon flicker of the 80s for the sun-bleached reality of a working farm. This isn't a vanity project. It’s a reckoning. Released in Mar. 2021, the album is a sharp pivot into outlaw country that feels more authentic than anything coming out of the polished factories of modern Nashville. We caught up with the legendary songwriter via email to dissect this transition from global rock royalty to dusty boots.
The shift to country isn't as left-field as the leather-clad fans might think. Farriss has been sitting on these stories for decades, waiting for the right atmosphere to let them breathe. He tells us: "I started writing songs as a teenager and I’ve written songs ever since. And so, I have accumulated many songs over the years, including country style songs. I particularly like Outlaw style country music and folk instruments combined. I didn’t start out making an album, at first, I was re-recording older (and much newer) song-demos to pitch to other artists. I was pleased with the songs but not with the quality of the recordings."
The catalyst for the album’s soul happened far from the Australian bush, deep in the American Southwest. It’s where the ghosts of the frontier still linger in the canyons. Farriss recalls a pivotal moment of inspiration that bridged two continents: "During one of the Nashville recording sessions, my wife Marlina and I took a week off work and headed down to where Arizona and New Mexico meet the Mexican border to ride through the Chiricahua Mountains National Monument and Wilderness area. We rode horses for six hours a day, six days in a row and had an education on the turbulent and emotive history of that area. The Apaches, the Mexicans, the Mexican Army, the US cavalry, the cowboys nearby in Tombstone, the outlaws and settlers were all trying to survive and make lives for themselves."
There is a technical precision to his storytelling that mirrors his songwriting. He finds the connective tissue between the American West and the Australian interior, a shared DNA of struggle and survival. "I was inspired and emotionally moved by the gritty history of the area and thought this party of US 19th Century history was culturally very similar in a way to Australian 19th Century history," he says. This isn't just about hats and horses; it’s about the weight of the past.
The aesthetic of the record is strikingly deliberate. In an age of digital throwaways, Farriss has leaned into the tactile. The cover art and the vinyl itself feel like artifacts pulled from a saddlebag. "Yes, I really wanted the album artwork, photography, graphics and the vinyl itself to stand out, combined with practical clothing of that era—US 19th Century history that was culturally similar in a way to Australian 19th Century history," Farriss explains.
And he’s right to obsess over the physical. Digital streaming is a ghost; vinyl is a body. For a man who spent his life in the high-fidelity world of professional studios, the medium matters. He is blunt about his disdain for the ephemeral nature of modern tech: "Vinyl was VERY important to me for a few reasons. Vinyl is physical. It can be its own art form. You own it if you buy it. Technology is not better simply because it’s new. You can’t eat a smartphone."
Fans often look for Easter eggs in the work of legends, and some thought they found one in the track "All the Scars Are Mine," linking it to the INXS classic "The Gift." But Farriss is quick to kill the conspiracy theory with typical directness. He clarifies: "All The Stars Are Mine has nothing to do with The Gift."
We rode horses for six hours a day, six days in a row and had an education on the turbulent and emotive history of that area. ... I was inspired and emotionally moved by the gritty history of the area and thought this party of US 19th Century history was culturally very similar in a way to Australian 19th Century History.
Despite the massive vault of unreleased INXS-era material fans assume exists, Farriss kept this solo venture remarkably fresh. He didn't raid the archives to fill space. "Only one song: Come Midnight," he says when asked if any of these ideas dated back to his days with the band. It shows a commitment to the present rather than a reliance on the ghosts of the 90s.
One of the more startling revelations for casual listeners is the realization that Farriss has always had the pipes. His turn on the track "Questions" from the *Welcome to Wherever You Are* album was often mistaken for Hutchence. Now, he’s stepping into the role of lead vocalist with a new sense of agency. "Yes, I wrote and sang Questions on the INXS – Welcome album. What is different now for me as a vocalist is, I sing on my songs in a way I hadn’t done before and choose the song key that best suits my voice," he says.
The conversation eventually turns to the post-Hutchence years, specifically the *Rock Star: INXS* era and the tenure of Canadian singer JD Fortune. It was a polarizing time for the band, and the ending was abrupt. When asked for the final word on the Fortune fallout, Farriss remains diplomatic, if a bit distant: "I’m not sure why JD didn’t work out, I hope he’s doing well."
But what about the purists? The fans who think a rock star moving to country is a betrayal of the brand? Farriss doesn't have time for the gatekeeping. He’s lived the life he’s singing about. "I’m a fan of INXS’ too, I’ve also owned a cattle & grains farm when it rains and I’m a cowboy. I was living that life during the INXS career too. I just happen to like Country music, especially outlaw style country. Check out some of the new and older Americana – Bluegrass stuff," he suggests.
It’s easy to forget that INXS always had a genre-blurring streak. They weren't just a funk-rock outfit. Farriss points out that they were flirting with country sounds long before it was fashionable for rock stars to do so. "Actually, INXS performed Jackson with Australian singer Jenny Morris and Michael singing a duet at The Sydney Entertainment arena sometime during the eighties," he notes.
When pushed on which INXS tracks could survive a country makeover, he doesn't hesitate. The melodies he wrote were always robust enough to stand without the synthesizers. "Shine Like It Does, also Never Tear Us Apart," he says. It’s easy to hear the lonesome whistle of a pedal steel in the bones of those tracks if you listen closely enough.
As for his brothers, Tim and Jon, the Farriss clan seems to have retreated to the land together. The rock and roll circus has been replaced by the rhythm of the seasons. "You need to check in with them I guess, they’ve been farmers like me," Andrew says. It’s a quiet end to a loud legacy.
The transition to being the "lead guy" has also brought a frantic pace that contrasts with the perceived slowness of farm life. Farriss isn't coasting. "I’m busier than shit through a goose!" he quips. It’s a vivid, messy bit of Australian vernacular that sums up the hustle of a solo launch.
Even the venues are a deliberate choice. Booking a show at the Royal Hotel Queanbeyan, a spot that looks like it belongs in a Peckinpah film, wasn't an accident. "Yes, you’re getting the idea and hopefully doing more shows when restrictions ease," he says. He wants the environment to match the sonic texture of the songs.
This isn't "bro-country." There are no songs about tailgates or cold beer in a stadium. This is the classic, dusty sound of a man who respects the craft. "I was very fortunate to write and perform with INXS and I’m fortunate to be accepted by the Country music community past and present – respect," he says.
Farriss lives near Tamworth, the heart of Australian country music. When asked what he would swap between Nashville and his home turf, his answer is deeply personal and devoid of industry talk. "My Wife – Marlina," he says. It’s a reminder that for all the gold records and world tours, the things that matter are much smaller.
His process remains stubbornly analog. In a world of MIDI and Pro Tools, Farriss still relies on the basics. "I’m going back to my roots as a writer. I use much less technology than I did during the eighties, nineties and noughties," he admits. There is a pen, a piece of paper and a guitar. That’s how the hits started, and that’s how this new chapter begins. "Thanks for asking me - safe travels," he concludes. The engine room is still humming; it’s just moved to a different theatre.
