Caprice is an Australian singer-songwriter whose music holds space for grief, change, and the quiet defiance it takes to stay soft in a hard world.

Blending acoustic textures, poetic lyricism, and raw vulnerability: her songs explore the unspoken corners of loss, carrying emotion with grace.

 In 2021–22, Caprice was working as a lawyer, quietly aware that the career she’d built didn’t align with her heart. After losing her dad and both grandfathers in a short space of time, things shifted. Grief made it impossible to keep ignoring the disconnect between the life she was living and the one she knew she was destined for.

 “Life was too short to play it safe…

…i owed it to myself and those who came before to explore the things i’d always been afraid to pursue.”

She returned to the Northern Territory, reconnected with family, community, country, and began picking up the guitar, and scribbling down her thoughts to make sense of her place in the world.

What began as a private way to process emotion became a powerful creative force.

In early 2024, Caprice and producer Nic Malouf recorded 30 original songs in her childhood home — the starting point for her public journey as an artist. Her debut single October (2024) and follow-up Put the Kettle On, How Else Do I Say? (2025) introduced listeners to her signature blend of honesty, warmth, and introspection. The latter, a cinematic love letter to grief and home, featured real family footage and resonated widely as a tribute to staying open-hearted through pain.

Her music draws comparisons to Missy Higgins, Julia Jacklin, Angie McMahon, and Mazzy Star — but what sets Caprice apart is her emotional presence. Whether sitting with memory or dancing through change, her songs offer an invitation to feel deeply and fully.

A narrow dirt trail winds through a lush green forest with tall grass, trees, and bushes under a clear blue sky.
Close-up of a young woman's face with blonde hair, blue eyes, and earrings, showing clear skin and some acne blemishes.

a bittersweet journey

a bittersweet journey

Caprice’s inspirations run deep: her mum showed her what courage and creativity look like, forging a path as a successful self employed artist after becoming a teen mum at 17 with no family support.

Her dad, who lived large and loved loud, left her with lessons in self-worth and independence.

Her grandparents, reminded her not to take life too seriously. taught her about legacy, culture, and resilience — leading with both head and heart, opening a path to healing she hadn’t expected.

Her stepdad, who became her father at 25, showed her that family is built through love and loyalty, not just blood. And the support of her friends, family, and strangers, echoes through every song.

“i’ve always been the one to lighten a room, not deepen it,”

Caprice believes in the rare power of emotional honesty, though sharing music about grief hasn’t always come easily…

“my dad always told everyone about my music, he just wanted me to follow it no matter what…

… and in a strange, painful way, it’s because he’s not here that i finally did

i know he’s still my biggest fan

…and he’s got more power up there making it all happen for me.”

Two people sitting on a rocky ledge overlooking a landscape of rolling hills and mountains under a partly cloudy sky.

Caprice’s recent journey through South America found her in Montañita, Ecuador where she was swept into a new creative current — one that traded melancholy for movement. Her electronic collaboration “No Fines de Semana” with Gabriel (beatboxer) and Alex del Mar (producer) marked a vibrant shift: her first time letting go of introspection to make people dance. The track — written and recorded in the joyful chaos of a coastal party town — is a celebration of spontaneity, community, and surrender.

Caprice’s songs remind us that nothing is promised, but presence is powerful. Her music doesn't seek to escape the weight of life — it welcomes it in, pours the tea, and sits with it awhile.

“whether i’m writing about grief, joy, growing pains, love, or letting go...

music for me, isn’t about perfection.

it’s about presence.

it’s how i make sense of life, it’s how i hold close the people i love, and it’s how i how stay open to joy even when it hurts.