The title is a dare. Garden of Edie, the sophomore EP from Perth-based artist EDIE, positions itself explicitly in the territory of the forbidden fruit, the point at which innocence becomes impossible to recover. Four tracks, produced with Calvin Bennett, moving through frustration, toxicity, obsession, and temptation in a sequence that traces a specific kind of becoming. EDIE describes it as figuring out who she is in her 20s, and the EP earns that framing by refusing the tidiness that self-discovery narratives usually demand.
After her 2024 debut EP, unsaid, and a run of singles including the gothic-antihero energy of “Bleed” and the biting “Girl’s Girl,” EDIE’s evolution here is deliberate and audible. The indie-pop and alt-rock foundations she built on haven’t disappeared, but Garden of Edie moves them into darker, club-ready territory with a confidence that comes from knowing exactly where you’re going rather than just gesturing toward it.
“Fall of Man” opens with sparse synths and pulsing electronic drums, the restraint of the arrangement matching the particular frustration of its subject: trying to help someone who will not be helped. Triple J’s Anika Luna called it all-consuming, and the track justifies that description by building its claustrophobic emotional logic slowly rather than announcing it. The production sits in the space between electronic pop and something darker and more atmospheric, which is where the EP largely lives.
“Burning” is the record’s most surprising structural decision, leaning back toward acoustic guitar, acoustic drums, and reverb-soaked electric guitar lines in the middle of an electronic EP. The pivot works because the subject demands it: the painful realisation that a relationship has become toxic sits better in the organic warmth of EDIE’s earlier sound, the contrast between the intimacy of the instrumentation and the difficulty of the realisation doing emotional work that pure electronics couldn’t. It’s the kind of sequencing choice that demonstrates genuine artistic judgment.
“Chemical” returns to the EP’s electronic foundations with oscillating synths, manipulated trance-gate vocals, and pulsating bass, channelling obsessive thoughts through production that mirrors the experience of thoughts on a loop. The sonic manipulation of the vocals is the track’s most formally interesting decision, the voice itself becoming part of the textural language of obsession rather than simply describing it. The WAM Awards nomination for Best Electronic Track the EP received makes particular sense in the context of this track.
The title track closes the record by leaning fully into temptation and self-liberation, brooding synth textures and driving dance production delivering what the EP’s conceptual setup promised from the beginning. The garden of the title is not an innocent space. It is the place after the choice, and EDIE’s voice in the closer carries the self-awareness of someone who walked in knowing exactly what it would cost and went anyway. That is a darker kind of confidence than defiance, and it gives the EP’s conclusion real weight.
EDIE sold out her September 2024 EP show at The Bird in Perth before any of this material existed. The audience she’s built on unapologetic energy and electrifying performances now has a record that matches those qualities in the studio rather than just replicating them. Garden of Edie is four songs that move through the messiness of figuring yourself out without softening any of it, which is what the best version of this kind of record does.
Garden of Edie is available now. EDIE launches the EP at The Bird, Perth on June 6.
B-Side Guys 
Leave a Reply