Since their beginnings, London-based, Aussie trio Howling Bells — siblings Juanita Stein (vocals, guitar) and Joel Stein (guitar) and Glenn Moule (drums) — have been a bit of anomaly: They relocated to the UK to pursue their dreams of making it. And then, they broke through a British indie scene of three-and-four-dude-wearing-skinny-jeans bands with their acclaimed, self-titled 2006 full-length debut. 

Those dreams of making it big actually became real: They played an NME Tour and then in stadiums opening for a Coldplay, while winning acclaim from the UK music press. 

Throughout their nearly two decade history, the band has gone through a series of lineup changes but some things have remained the same: the core trio’s deep, unbreakable bond and their hypnotic sound, influenced by Tom Waits, Sonic Youth, Nirvana, Fleetwood Mac and Björk. 

Howling Bells’ fifth album, Strange Life is slated for a February 13, 2026 release through Nude Records. The long-awaited album is the band’s first album of new material in over 12 years and was recorded with their longtime friend and collaborator Ben Hillier at Agricultural Audio Studios. The new album is reportedly both a vibrant document of and an exploratory testament to the alchemical magic between its core members. 

Late last year, I wrote about album single “Chimera,” a song that showcases Juanita Stein’s gorgeous and expressive vocal and the band’s knack for big hooks and choruses. Strange Life‘s latest single “Melbourne” continues a run of jangle pop-like indie rock with big hooks — but at its core is a confusing and familiar mix of yearning for the familiar and the grief over the tacit acknowledgement that the familiar can no longer be had. You can’t go back home again, as the novel says — and that’s often more true than not. And it’s all anchored in bitter, lived-in experience.

“‘Melbourne’ is a song about deep yearning and ultimately grief. It explores a unique inner conflict many of us feel when we leave our homes and families to start anew somewhere else,” Howling Bells’ Juanita Stein explains. “This aching can be especially intense when we’re faced with something traumatic and all we want is the safety and warm embrace of the familiar. I experienced a heightened version of this when I returned to Melbourne a few years ago to play some shows, having not been back for a while. It felt slightly surreal and tragic being there without any family to share this with, as they had also left Australia over the years. Then, within 24 hours of touchdown, I got a call from a hospital in England telling me that my father, who was ill, had taken a turn for the worse, and so I had to pack up and return to the UK before I’d even played a show. It was brutal. I felt a thousand things that day, from the physical weight of having to lug around 2 huge suitcases full of merch I was planning to unload, to sitting alone in tears at the airport in Singapore during the layover. All these experiences left me with a deep well of sadness and a longing to return to my homeland to find what it is I’d now lost forever. This is something I carry around with me every day. All it takes is the glimmer of the sun at a certain time of day, or the occasional scent of an eucalyptus tree, or the sharp twinge of nostalgia when I hear the melody of a particular song, to remind me of the sadness and beauty that is now my Australia,”

Directed by Safiyya Lea, the accompanying video for “Melbourne” stars a beanie-wearing Tilly Woodward, driving down a country road before she pulls over to get out of her truck and expressively dance by a tree.