Some projects defy easy categorization, and Matt Hsu’s Obscure Orchestra is one of them. If the music scene were a crowded fairground—with a jazz band playing on one side, a street rapper spitting rhymes over beatboxing on another, and someone in the middle spinning avant-garde ambient on a theremin—then Obscure Orchestra would be the space where all these people come together, creating something entirely their own.
And somehow, it all comes together into a remarkably cohesive picture—where every sound finds its place, and people who might not even look like they belong in the same room move as a unified whole. That’s the first impression of Matt Hsu’s Obscure Orchestra with their double release, Forest Party and Noodle.

photo by Rod Pilbeam
This isn’t a typical “indie band” in the usual sense. It’s more like a collective of like-minded artists using every instrument and style at their disposal to document the full spectrum of life. The lineup includes more than 20 people—alternative musicians, experimentalists, queer noise artists, Conservatory graduates, hip-hop veterans, musicians with disabilities, Indigenous artists, and members of the LGBTQ+ community. Each of them throws a log onto the musical fire—sometimes an entire tree of ideas.
Forest Party invites listeners on a walk through a peculiar forest, where every clearing hides a rhythmic surprise, and just around the bend, you might stumble upon a fusion of funk and folk, adorned with flutes and layered vocals. Noodle feels like a bustling kitchen during a lively feast—things are sizzling, boiling, and mixing so quickly that at first glance, it’s hard to tell where jazz improvisation begins and Asian folk influences end. The result is two albums that sound both cohesive and full of surprises.
The project is led by Matt Hsu, a Taiwanese-Australian composer, multi-instrumentalist, and activist. A recipient of QMA awards, he has gained recognition for his ability to bring together people from vastly different backgrounds to create music that is pure and sincere. His work reflects a drive to push boundaries and break down barriers—not just between musical genres, but also between people of different cultures and identities.
Forest Party
From the very first track, Welcome To The Neighbourhood, the album creates a space where genres merge into something cohesive yet fluid and dynamic. Smooth soul and R&B intertwine with spoken word, while layered arrangements add depth and texture.
Traditional motifs take center stage in Only Person of Colour at the Indie Hang, where classical elements become an essential part of the storytelling. This thread continues in Speaking In Dove and Mycelium, where flowing melodies are accompanied by birdsong, creating a soft, almost meditative atmosphere.
On the other hand, Glitter & Gold, Lying in Grass, and Last Time That I Checc’d reveal a different side of the album. Here, hip-hop and R&B are infused with a distinctive instrumental signature. Intricate arrangements, hypnotic rhythms, and expressive lyricism make these tracks feel tactile—music that invites you to engage with it on a deeper level.
The album’s finale is an unexpected yet fitting conclusion. ~ a lottle ~ first song i wrote? feels effortless and slightly playful. With its acoustic warmth, gentle ambient touches, and an overall sense of intimacy, it doesn’t so much end as it fades into the air, leaving behind a lingering glow.
Noodle
If Forest Party is an experimental, neon-eclectic journey, Noodle finds a balance between lightness and structure. The sound leans slightly more pop-oriented but retains its rich, multi-layered character.

photo by Rod Pilbeam
Obscure Thought surprises with its expansive choral arrangements and an unexpected blend of styles—one of those rare moments where jazz takes on a futuristic edge. Cosy; いってきます brings a touch of romance, with smooth harmonies that create a cinematic atmosphere. That same delicate approach shines through in Make Everything, Morse Code, and Melanin Moon, where the music forms a space you can almost physically sense—light, airy, and existing in another sonic dimension.
Eat The World plays with contrasts, shifting from massive choral harmonies to delicate acoustic vocals before expanding back into a powerful, layered composition. A similar effect comes through in Birdnest Hair, where abrupt shifts in structure and genre within a single track give the music a playful yet cohesive dynamic. The closing track, ~ a little ~ bean cap, echoes the final moments of Forest Party, giving the sense of a complete story coming full circle. Despite their differences, both albums are tied together by a common idea—music as a space for freedom, exploration, deep listening, and personal discovery.
These two albums aren’t connected by an abstract concept or a narrative with a clear beginning and climax. Their bond is something subtler—an atmosphere, a feeling, the lingering imprint they leave behind. There’s no need to dissect them into genres or pin convenient labels. Jazz, soul, hip-hop, ambient, orchestral classical, folk influences, pop melodies—it’s all there, sure, but listing it out misses the point. It’s like trying to explain a sunset by analyzing air composition and light refraction—it just doesn’t work.
It’s better to drop the needle and let the music spill into the room. Let Matt Hsu’s Obscure Orchestra weave through your space, tangle in the curtains, dive into your tea, wrap around a chair, settle beside you, and whisper something indecipherable yet deeply personal.
This is what indie music sounds like in 2025—untethered from genres, unconfined by rules, unconcerned with expectations. It exists because someone had something to say, and it sounds exactly the way it wants to. Free, honest, alive.
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