With her developing indie pop project Bridges, Christchurch-born singer-songwriter Rachel Hamilton is emerging as one of Aotearoa’s most compelling new voices. Blending shimmering pop melodies with atmospheric guitars and emotional honesty, her music moves between intimacy and scale; confessional, yet expansive.

What began as a private outlet – a teenage songwriter processing the world from her bedroom – has grown into a fully realised creative project, shaped by collaboration and craft. Released in March 2026 her five song sophomore EP, ‘Life of the Party’, captures that evolution, opening out into something richer, more textured, and quietly anthemic.

Tracks like Drive reach for freedom and lightness, while the stripped-back Lifeline reveals the raw core of her songwriting, drawn from her own experience with panic attacks. As Bridges prepares for a run of live band shows there’s a growing sense of momentum – and connection.

Congratulations on ‘Life of the Party’. The EP’s opening song Drive feels like an anthem – and a kind of escape. Is that what you were aiming for?

Yeah – that’s definitely what I’m working towards. That kind of carefree, weightless feeling is like my North Star!

Drive sits in this space between reality and fantasy. There’s that lyric, ‘I’ve got a coffee and you’ve got the key’ – and it’s that idea of just jumping in the car and going, no planning, no pressure. It’s simple, but it feels kind of unattainable sometimes.
But I guess writing it let me see that it could exist. It’s something I’d love to move towards in real life.

Which of the tracks means the most to you right now?

Probably Lifeline, that song’s really special. I wrote it in about 20 minutes, it just kind of fell out. Those are always the ones you don’t question! I haven’t had to go back and change anything. It just feels exactly like what I wanted to say.

It’s very understated, but it’s really honest. And the process of making it was just… easy. I had friends come in and record on it, people just volunteering their time, and it felt really collaborative and supportive. I’m really proud of Lifeline – and I’m excited (and a little nervous) to play it live.

On that, do you ever find it difficult performing such emotionally honest songs?

Yeah – it’s interesting, actually. Usually I write a song and then sit on it for a long time because it’s too raw. By the time I release it I’ve kind of processed those emotions, so I’m okay with it. But then it’s new for everyone else, and they’re like, ‘Are you okay?’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

Most of the time it doesn’t hit me as hard when performing anymore – but Lifeline is different. I only wrote that last year, and when I listened to it after release, it was the first time I’ve actually felt choked up hearing my own music. So I am a little bit nervous about playing that one live!

Until recently hardly anyone had heard it, so it’s been a bit surreal sharing it. When a song helps someone feel something deeply – even cry – it’s like therapy. It lets things out, and that’s such a good thing.

I still find it wild that people even care about my music. I was so nervous before releasing it – not because of criticism, but because I care so much, and I was scared no one else would. So when people do connect with it, it means everything.

You’ve come a long way from your early acoustic days. How do you feel your music has evolved – and what would younger you think now?

Oh my gosh, what a lovely question. When I first started writing music I didn’t really have many ways to express how I was feeling – not in a way that felt safe. So when I was about 13 or 14 songwriting became this really creative outlet, like a pressure valve for emotions I didn’t know how to release.

It was very insular. I’d write alone in my bedroom and mostly keep everything to myself. Then around 16 or 17, I started posting songs on YouTube and got asked to play gigs as a solo artist.

From there, I got exposed to so many different genres and musicians – especially through studying music. There were jazz players coming into bands, all sorts of influences, and it became this big melting pot. At the same time, I started processing emotions I’d been pushing down – especially anger – and suddenly I needed bigger sounds to express that…

So as I’ve evolved as a person, the music’s evolved too. I was diagnosed with PTSD about four years ago, and as I’ve started healing that’s changed things again. Even the EP title, ‘Life of the Party’, has a double meaning for me. I feel like I can finally be that person authentically, instead of it being a mask.

Do you see Bridges ever returning to being a solo artist?

In a way, I still feel like one. I bring people in, but I’m quite particular about how things sound and how they’re made. So it’s more like I’ll have an idea – a song, a video – and then I’ll reach out to people who are both talented and genuinely good people.

I only want to work with people who enjoy the process. That’s been a big lesson. It’s still a small, collaborative group, but I’m definitely still steering the vision. And what I love now is that I’m not the only one who feels proud of the final product.

Who influences your music?

That’s such a hard question, because I’m more of a song person than an artist person. If a song feels honest, I’ll connect with it – no matter the genre or when it was written. That said, on the pop side I love Dua Lipa, Lorde, and HAIM.

On the singer-songwriter side, I really love Sara Bareilles, Lizzy McAlpine, and Phoebe Bridgers. And then in the background there’s always Fleetwood Mac and The Beatles – that whole era!

Graci Kim is an international bestselling author. How did you come to provide the music that’s central to her fantasy-fiction Dreamslinger trilogy?

It’s a wild story, actually! I met Graci in the most roundabout way. I ended up singing at her sister’s wedding, without having met her, and then later I sang at Graci’s wedding too.

Years after that, she reached out and said she had this lullaby that was really central to a book she was writing, and asked if I’d turn it into a song. I was like, ‘Yes – absolutely!’ She gave me a really early brief – just a few lines of a poem and the backstory of the character, Aria. The lullaby was meant to feel like both a memory and a warning, which I loved.

I did go a bit too dark with the first version – very The Hunger Games vibes – and she came back saying, ‘My emo heart loves it… but maybe not for children.’ So we pulled it back and landed on what it is now, Aria’s Lullaby.

She took the demo to her team in Texas, connected with The Walt Disney Company, and they actually suggested printing the song in the book – which was never part of the original plan. That was such a cool surprise! Since then we’ve had people covering it, even a kid who sent through a trumpet version from the sheet music. That was really special!”

You got to work with Fazerdaze through APRA’s Mentorship Programme a few years ago now. What sort of effect did that have on you?

A huge impact! We’ve definitely become friends now, and she’s just one of those people you don’t come across very often – so kind, so genuine, and incredibly hardworking.

Amelia gave me one piece of advice that completely changed how I approach music – and honestly, life. She said, ‘All you need to do is make good work and be a good person.’
It sounds simple, but it takes so much pressure off. It stops you obsessing over first impressions or trying to force things. If you’re making the best art you can and being a good person, people remember that. That really shifted my mindset.

Are you a planner, or do you just follow where things take you?

Both – and it’s a constant push and pull. I plan everything way in advance, I booked this tour months ago. I make lists, I’m really meticulous. But I’m also quite an anxious person, so once things get close, I’m like, “Oh my God, I actually have to do this.” But forcing myself into those situations is usually good for me, even if I want to stall sometimes.

Can you see yourself leaving Aotearoa to pursue a music career overseas?

Not right now. I think I’m still in a bit of a recovery phase – I’d need to feel emotionally ready to do something like that. But also, I love this country. I love the people here, and I’m obsessed with the South Island.

Growing up in Christchurch felt quite different to Auckland, but that sense of community is so strong. I was there during the earthquakes, and even through something that traumatic, people just showed up for each other. The support was incredible – you really saw the best of humanity. Kiwis are just genuinely heartfelt like that.
I’d definitely like to travel, maybe base myself somewhere for a while, but I don’t see myself leaving permanently anytime soon.

Where would you like to be in five or 10 years?

Honestly, I’d just like to be sustainably breaking even doing the art I love. It sounds practical, but I’ve realised I really do want to keep making music. I love the whole process, from writing to collaborating with other creatives and building the visual side of things too.

It’s just a lot. I already have other jobs to support myself, so doing this on top of that can be pretty full-on. So, if I could get to a place where it feels sustainable and not draining, that would be amazing. And I’d love to play to audiences outside NZ as well – just to have that experience.

What piece of advice would you give young people trying to find their creative voice?

Honestly… give yourself time to be bored, because that’s when ideas happen. When you’re walking, or on the bus, or just not constantly stimulated – that’s where creativity comes from. I actually got the idea for Life Of The Party during a massage, because my brain finally switched off.
You have to create space for that. If you just put pressure on yourself to create it usually doesn’t work… at least not for me.