Breakbone is a Brisbane-based DIY magazine (called a 'zine') which is dedicated to sharing the shit about the local Brisbane music scene people are too afraid to say. Inspired by the 'gonzo' approach of writers like Hunter S Thompson, this zine's all about putting you into the shoes of what it's like to actually be in the scene.

It's a one man operation, run by Iggy, a Brisbane senior student who goes to the gigs, writes them up, and puts some on.

How do I get into the scene?

You go to a gig. There are all-ages gigs in Brisbane's halls and skateparks; Breakbone documents them and is planning gigs dedicated to the original spirit of the scene and to raw, unfiltered rock and roll.

about · breakbone, brisbane's underground youth-scene zine

Q: Why is it called Breakbone?

The city of Brisbane was named after Thomas Brisbane, and his last name literally makes 'to break bone' in Gaelic and Old English. It suits a zine based around the Brisbane music scene, and it sounds edgy enough for a punk zine.

In his own words

What the fuck
is Breakbone?

The questions everyone asks, answered by the bloke who runs it. Written May 2026, carried here word for word.

What is Breakbone?

Breakbone is a Brisbane-based DIY magazine (called a ‘zine’) which is dedicated to sharing the shit about the local Brisbane music scene people are too afraid to say. Unlike your usual magazine which just rambles on about what happened, who played blah blah blah, Breakbone takes a different approach. Inspired by the ‘gonzo’ approach of writers like Hunter S Thompson, this zine’s all about putting you into the shoes of what it’s like to actually be in the scene.

Why is it called Breakbone?

Because I thought it sounded cool. Yeah nah, it’s actually a bit more deep than that. The city of Brisbane was named after this British bloke with a big ass named Thomas Brisbane. British people have terrible looking teeth, and guess what? Teeth are bones. Well that, and also the fact that his last name ‘Brisbane’ literally makes ‘to break bone’ in Gaelic and Old English. I think the name really suits the fact that its based around the Brisbane music scene, and it sounds edgy enough to be the name of a punk zine.

Who writes this?

It’s a one man operation. I used to sell physical copies of this but it didn’t sell well because apparently, people’s attention spans have been nuked to the point where they can’t bother to read something beyond five words. I’m just a guy who likes writing, and I think that writing about the scene is a pretty cool thing to do.

Why did you start this zine?

I have to give credit to Natasha Ellis of the Brisbane Music Spew for inspiring me to do what I do. I saw what she did and saw that it looked like something I could do, so I just did it. I also found the scene to be a very interesting place where you have some interesting characters and can meet new friends and fucking rock and roll all night at the same time. I thought, you know what? I could stop being just the guy watching from the nosebleed section and be the guy who does shit. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, except some people do that at the expense of creating creatively inspired work where you can feel the soul behind it (you know who you are).

How did you get into the scene?

I had known about the scene for a couple of years before going to my first gig. My parents were pretty strict and had weird ideas about gigs and people who are part of alternative subcultures. Well, they softened up and on May 4th 2024—one day before my birthday, I went to my first gig and the rest is history.

This scene shit sounds cool, how do I get into it?

You go to a gig. Well, it might not that be that simple anymore because what happened was a bunch of eshays did stupid shit at gigs and made gig organisers lose their deposit money because you have to rent venues to hold gigs. There are all ages gigs but the scene, even though a lot of scene veterans and old people like to say it’s ‘not dead’ just isn’t really the fun, fantastical world where everyone knew each other and it seemed like sunshine and rainbows anymore. No, it was never like that. It was a timebomb waiting to explode. I’m planning on holding all ages gigs dedicated to the original spirit of the scene and to raw, unfiltered rock and roll, the way it should be. Come join us.

Nights we kept
halls · skateparks · floors
pinned, not filed away

A guitarist mid-set at Findaway's Left For Us single launch — Findaway · Left For Us launchSep 25

A packed all-ages crowd pressed to the front of an outdoor night gig, fists and phone lights up — The front row · all-agesoutdoors, down the front

One punter at the front, grinning at the camera, two thumbs up — One of us, all inwritten from inside

A painted mural reading The Saints, (I'm) Stranded, Fatal Records — The Saints, on the wall(I'm) Stranded

Two kids posed at a spray-painted wall — Two of us, before it allMeanjin

A red Soviet-style Fucken Oath gig poster reading Under The Red Flag You Will Die — Under the red flagFucken Oath

A hundred-plus kids on the wet concrete at Thornlands in the rain, one work light flaring — Punk in the Park · in the rainThornlands · Jun 26

Your night goes on the wall

Shoot
your bit.

The wall is missing your nights, on purpose. A gig, a band, a hall, one perfect or cursed show that nobody else wrote down. It goes in the record under your name or no name.

Press the camera. Five minutes, and you're pinned up with the rest.

Add your bit ›

breakbone instant

The whole thing, in three words

Document Write down what happened while the people it happened to are still around to argue with you. The gigs, the bands, the halls that hosted them and the ones that wouldn't.

Distribute Put it in front of the kids it belongs to. Free, hand to hand, online and on paper, never behind anything that asks who you are first.

Demonstrate Then go and prove it. Put a gig on. Hire the hall. A scene you only read about is a scene that already died; this one keeps showing up.

The nights we kept