This story is taken from the autumn 2025 issue of Dazed, which is on sale internationally now. Order a copy here.
This month, Aussie drill group ONEFOUR performed in Sydney for the first time. Let’s put that in perspective: they pioneered their own rap scene, released countless platinum-selling singles, and even became the subject of their own Netflix documentary; all before performing in the city that started it all. How on Earth did this happen?
The story starts in Sydney’s Mount Druitt suburb, part of a sprawling network of residential neighbourhoods on the outskirts of Australia’s most populous city. Historically one of the country’s poorest areas, with a majority Islander and Aboriginal population, Mount Druitt has been consistently neglected by the city’s authorities, and, in recent decades, street-level crime has filled the gap. This is how childhood friends J Emz, Spenny, Celly and Leks grew up – an inseparable community borne out of necessity. “Having your brother beside you makes the road a lot easier,” J Emz says, speaking to Dazed earlier this year.
The group felt similarly underrepresented in Australian rap music, and felt like there was no one to look up to. Instead, in 2016, they began to gravitate to the UK’s emerging drill scene, their experiences better captured by artists like Harlem Spartans’ tales of gang violence and run-ins with the police than the predominately white Australians that dominated their local rap scene. Recording in their local youth club, the boys began to inject their own experiences and slang into the genre – words like like “eeshay” and “eetswah” – adapting drill’s dark soundscapes to their own environment.
ONEFOUR’s debut in 2019 was nothing short of a cultural phenomenon. “The Message” and “Spot the Difference” were Australia’s first drill tracks, spawning their own dance trend (the ‘Mounty Bop’) and providing much-needed visibility to the country’s deprived and islander communities, but their depictions of gang crime proved highly controversial. That same year, NSW Police sergeant Nathan Trueman announced that he would “use everything in [his] power to make [ONEFOUR’s] life miserable, until [they] stop what [they’re] doing.”
ONEFOUR quickly became the focus of New South Wales’ menacingly-titled Strike Force Raptor, designed to “target groups and individuals who engage in serious and organised crime”. Under the pretence that their music “incited violence”, the group experienced a policing wholly unprecedented in rap music: their houses were raided, they were prevented from leaving the country, and venues were intimidated into cancelling shows, sometimes just minutes before they stepped on stage. The group’s struggles to stay afloat amid this harassment are detailed in the 2023 Netflix documentary Against All Odds, and continued for years after the film concluded. Sometimes shows would go on, sometimes not, but one place that the group were consistently prevented from performing in was Sydney. “I guess the thing about being first is they’re going to try and make an example out of us,” Spenny says with a sigh. “I feel like the tide’s turning for us, but there is still stuff happening in the background. All we can do is move forward.”
And move forward they have. Branching out from their signature Aussie drill sound into triumphant hip hop, ONEFOUR’s latest album marks a moment of maturity for the notorious rap group. Of course, there are reflections on their early antics on the streets of Mount Druitt, but there’s also surprisingly intimate insights into the boys’ experiences of heartbreak (“It was late night texting ‘til we’re yawning, now I’m overthinking ‘til morning”), the vicious cycle of gang violence and whether someone from their environment can ever truly change. The project’s title: Look At Me Now.
It’s fitting, then, that in the final moments of the album’s promotional tour, they overcame a barrier that’s been present since the onset of their career: on September 6, ONEFOUR finally performed in Sydney. “It was a crazy feeling doing that show with all of Mounty in the building, but we always knew this day would come,” Spenny tells Dazed in the wake of the performance. “It’s been six years since our first tour was shut down so it’s been a long road, just shows nothing can stand in your way with the right persistence and determination.” ONEFOUR’s music might have travelled the world, but it was always their early experiences in Mount Druitt that inspired them, and drove them to keep on fighting.
Below, pioneering Aussie drill group ONEFOUR break down their distinct slang, why they gravitated to UK drill, and one message they would send to their younger selves.
Hey ONEFOUR! What can you tell me about “Luxford Road”?
Celly: Luxford Road is one of the main roads that goes from one side of Mounty to the other. [The track] is about how it connects Mounty, how we grew up on it and our experiences on that road as well.
J Emz: Mount Druitt’s a big block, you know, we all grew up in different parts of Luxford.
How did you all first start making music?
Spenny: Back in 2014, we were just having drink-ups and freestyling, mucking around, but we took music seriously around 2016 and started hopping into the booth. Then, 2019 was the year we took it really seriously. A lot of the international audience was surprised to see what Druitt was. A lot of it was hate as well, but people were intrigued, and they wanted to find out who these rappers from Australia were. It just blew up.
What first attracted you to the UK drill scene?
J Emz: I was bumping Harlem Spartans in the early 2016 days – 67, old school K Trap, stuff like that. I feel like we resonated a lot with UK drills because we related to a lot of stuff that was going on over there. I was intrigued by the slang, and a lot of the similarities between the UK and Australia. I feel like we could relate to the UK more than we did to the US.
You guys also have your own slang and style out there too, right?
Celly: Yeah, so we use ‘eshay’ and ‘eetswah’, they’re kind of the same thing, it’s just like sweet or whatever.
J Emz: If we’re going to do comparisons, what do you guys call yourselves? Road men over there, right? Over here, we got the term ‘lads’, which we label boys who rock Nike TNs and brands like Nordica and Ralph Lauren.
Were there any Australian artists that you used to look up to?
Celly: There’s this thing here called gutter rap. They were an Australian white community that spoke about how they grew up in [social] housing and in the streets, just that struggle. But yeah, besides that, I don’t think we’ve had someone that we really had someone to look up to.
J Emz: Topic-wise, I respect their points and the storytelling, but if we’re talking about that style of rap, I didn’t rate it, if I’m being real.
Internationally, everyone has this image of Australia. We’re exposing what it’s actually like living out where we’re at and certain people take it the wrong way.
– J Emz, ONEFOUR
But even compared to many drill artists in the UK, it’s quite shocking to see the level of policing you guys have all experienced for making music.
Spenny: The thing about being first is they’re going to try and make an example out of us. We took a lot of that backlash, but I feel like the tide’s turning now for us, and things are starting to look a bit better, but there is still stuff happening in the background. All we can do is move forward.
J Emz: I feel like they didn’t know how to take it because, internationally, everyone has this image of Australia and I feel like a certain Australian likes to uphold that image. So, as we’re exposing what it’s actually like living out where we’re at, I feel like certain people take it the wrong way. But, at the end of the day, everything we’ve had to go through and experience, we’re still here today. That’s the type of shit we live for and it’s the type of people we are: we get through that shit, and we keep pushing.
We’ve spoken about backlash, but why do you think people also resonate with your music?
J Emz: You know, Mount Druitt isn’t the only place like that in Australia. There are a lot of areas that are similar and, if people can relate to it, they’re going to gravitate towards it. I feel like I haven’t really been able to connect with people [because of cancelled shows]. But now we’re finally able to experience the fans.
If you had one message you could send to your younger selves, what would it be?
J Emz: I would have told myself to stay out of trouble. Find something you love, and stay down.
