From learning just enough guitar to write songs to touring nationally with Willie Watson, A.C. Saunders chatted with Ami and Tina at Radio Carrum sharing why the most personal songs are often the best ones. And why performing will always come second to writing.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity. In fact, we chatted for over an hour, so there’s lots more including Grace’s brief foray into rap, some favourite bars in Mornington ‘back in the day’ and her mum’s frankly delicious 5-star sandwiches at Barret Lane Sandwich Bar. Listen to the full interview on Radio Carrum.
AMI: A.C. Saunders, thank you for joining us.
A.C.: Thanks for having me.
AMI: Have we stressed you out yet? [Due to technical difficulties]
A.C.: No. It made me feel a bit calmer that something else went wrong. It’s broken the ice of issues.
AMI: It’s just me sweating in the corner, which makes it far more comfortable for everyone.
A.C.: We’re all sweating. It’s all right.
AMI: How the hell are you?
A.C.: I’m okay. I’m all right. I’m doing okay.
AMI: Do you find that whoever opens for you sets the tone for your show, or can you separate yourself from it?
A.C.: I haven’t had too many people open for me, but I’ve opened for a shit-ton of people.
I just went on tour with Willie Watson, which was really cool. I’ve opened for so many bands in Melbourne too. I think last year I did 44 gigs.
I think we do set the tone for each other, but I also like a mixed bill where everyone is just doing their own thing.
Home is where the postcode is
AMI: Where do you hail from?
A.C.: I’m from Mornington. I grew up in Mornington and I live up in the city now, but I’m born and bred 3931.
AMI: Do you like coming back down?
A.C.: Yeah, I do. I come down all the time. It’s a nice town.
Not as good now that Wowie Zowie is gone.
A little feral, but working on it
A.C.: I wrote ‘Goodbye, My Old Friend’ the other week. It’s sort of like a breakup song to the really bad side of myself.
In six months I’m 30, so I’m trying to mature. I’m trying to stop being such a little feral.
I wrote this little breakup song with the more immature side of me. I don’t know if it’s actually going to come to fruition. It might be wishful thinking.
AMI: I love that concept. It’s almost like those divorce parties you hear about people having. It’s really moving.
A.C.: Thank you. I really enjoyed writing it.
After I wrote it, I was going through a really good time mentally and hadn’t made too many mistakes. I was like, “Yeah, that life’s behind me.”
Then, over the following two weeks, I got into so much freaking mischief.
I guess it’s not all behind me, but maybe if I keep singing the song…
AMI: You can sing it into existence.
A.C.: Totally.
AMI: I saw something in the news the other day saying adulthood doesn’t actually land until you’re 34.
A.C.: Yeah, I read that. I was like, “Sick. That’s good for me.”
Hopefully by then they’ll say it actually starts at 42.
AMI: It’s almost like age inflation.
A.C.: Totally. People my age used to be able to buy a house and stuff. I can hardly afford dinner, so of course I’m still a teenager. Things have changed so much.
AMI: It’s kind of nice. I think there’s going to be a sense of eternal youth for people now.
A.C.: I agree. There’s no point in ageing anymore, you know?
Perfection is not the assignment
TINA: Does a new song mean there’s a new body of work coming?
A.C.: Yeah. I’ve just recorded an album with a band.
I’ve got my mate Zach on bass, my mate Sally on drums and my mate Phil on pedal steel. We recorded it at Sound Recordings with Alex Bennett in Castlemaine.
It was really cool. I haven’t really played with a band before, and we practised three times before we recorded it.
TINA: Only three times?
AMI: That’s pretty rough and ready, right?
A.C.: Yeah. Everyone in the band is freaky talented and very professional, so I could put them under the pump like that.
They were tight. I wasn’t tight.
But I don’t like things that are really perfect. If you hold yourself to that perfect standard all the time when it comes to art, you’ll never feel like you’ve done a good job.
I just aim for it to be over.
I’m really excited to release it. It doesn’t sound how I usually sound, but Phil, Sally and Zach are amazing. They took my songs and my ramblings and understood the assignment.
I’m really proud of the effort they put in.
AMI: It must be weird because, when you’re playing solo, if you bumble something you can usually just strum your way through it.
A.C.: I just make it up as I go.
But they’re really good at doing that too. Phil and I had played live together a few times before the band came together.
One day I said, “This is the song we’re going to play.” He hadn’t played it before, he didn’t know it, and I didn’t know that he didn’t know it.
But he played it really well. Nobody knew.
That’s how freaky talented they are. I’m not that talented. I can’t do that. But that’s why I write the songs – nothing I do is wrong if I wrote it.
AMI: Jamming is such an underrated skill.
A.C.: It is. I have a mate, Jake, who hasn’t been playing guitar for very long, and we jam together.
As long as we know the groove, and I know his ability, I’m not going to pull out something that makes him go, “What are we doing?” That would be so mean.
TINA: But can you push him to get better?
A.C.: No, because I don’t think I’ve ever tried to get better at music. I just really enjoy it.
The more you enjoy it, the more you do it, and the better you become over time.
I know most people want to be the best they can be, and that’s great, but I don’t push myself and I wouldn’t push him.
Sometimes we’ll catch up and one of us will play something, and the other person will be like, “Oh man, you learnt something new.”
And it’s like, “Yeah. It just came to me one day.”
If you keep playing, you come up with your own little sound and your own way of playing. That’s what I’ve done.
Cowboy chords and big feelings
AMI: Is that something you’ve intentionally steered yourself towards, or do you literally go with the flow?
A.C.: I started playing guitar when I was 10 and I’m 29 now.
My aim as a child was just to be able to write songs and know enough chords to write them. Once I knew the basic chords – the cowboy chords – I was like, “Cool, I’m done,” and quit guitar lessons.
From there, I’d hear something in my head and think, “I want to learn how to play that,” so I’d spend a while figuring it out.
Basically, every time I get better at guitar, it’s because I want to write a song with better guitar.
But sometimes I still write songs with just D, G and E minor.
AMI: Do you haunt certain chords? Do you keep coming back to them and think, “Not again”?
A.C.: I even have songs with the exact same chords. If you can sing a different song over them, then that’s okay.
Some people put a lot of pressure on what it means to be a “real musician”. But my goal is to write songs.
I’m never going to be embarrassed about playing the same cowboy chords all night long.
AMI: Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. Do you consider yourself a songwriter and singer first and foremost?
A.C.: I’d say I’m a songwriter.
I wouldn’t say I’m much of a performer. Some musicians are wicked performers and one thing I hear all the time is, “The stage is my home.”
Absolutely not.
The stage is somewhere I have to be, and I’m panicking.
I’m more of a songwriter than a musician, a performer or even a singer.
AMI: You’re a storyteller too. There’s songwriting, but then there’s storytelling within your songs.
TINA: Where do your ideas come from?
A.C.: My ideas come from specific things that are happening in my life.
Sometimes they come from my friends’ lives too. If a mate of mine is going through a really hard time and I’m stressed about them, that’s going on in my life too.
Songwriting is an outlet for my emotions. When the emotion is too big, it becomes a song.
AMI: It’s your diary.
A.C.: Totally.
Sometimes your emotions are really big because you’re about to get your period, so you write this crazy, dramatic song. Then a fortnight later, you’re like, “What was that about?”
AMI: It would be funny to catalogue your songs based on where you were in your menstrual cycle.
A.C.: You can tell.
If you hear one and I’m really angry, you’re like, “Oh yeah, I know where she’s at.”
Then there’s the loved-up phase where everything is fun.
AMI: All your sexy ovulation songs.
A.C.: There are songs about feeling myself, and then there are songs about hating myself.
The closer to the bone, the better
AMI: When you’re writing, do you ever think, “Too personal, too personal”? Or is it always anything goes?
A.C.: I reckon when it’s not that personal, I’m like, “This is embarrassing. I’ve made this up. What the hell am I talking about?”
I’d like to write songs about politics. I wrote one after thinking about people being trapped under concrete. I was sitting on a concrete balcony in the sun and thinking, “Fuck, man. That really sucks for them.”
War and the goings-on in the world haunt my brain, but I don’t actually know how those people feel because I’ve lived in fucking Mornington and Richmond my whole life.
I write songs about what’s happening in the world, but then I think, “I don’t know their feelings and I don’t want to speak for them.”
I tend to write specifically about my feelings, my point of view and my world. That’s what I know about.
If I ever find that I’m not being truthful to my experience, or what I think and feel, it becomes a bit cringey. I’m just singing out of my arse a little bit.
The more personal and revealing, the better.
AMI: Were you always like that, or is it something you’ve learnt over time?
A.C.: My mum taught me to be a really honest person. That was a big lesson in life: to always be honest and real.
TINA: It’s always good to be an open book. If you’re yourself, life is better. You don’t have to fake anything.
A.C.: If you fake it and people don’t like you, you’re like, “Damn it. I should have just been myself.”
And if they don’t like you for you, then good.
Grace, Gracie, A.C., Ace
AMI: Your name is Grace, but you go by A.C. Saunders. Where did the name come from?
A.C.: People call me Gracie, but I don’t really like that.
I don’t mind my friends calling me Gracie, but when random people do it, it’s weird.
The origin is Gracie: the “A.C.” at the end.
Then I thought a great nickname for me would be Ace. For five or six years I was really trying to get that to catch on. A few friends do call me Ace, and I really appreciate that.
AMI: Are we still trying to make Ace happen?
A.C.: Nah. Now people just call me A.C., and that’s cool.
There are also so many Graces in music. I figured I’d use my own name and a new name.
TINA: And Saunders?
A.C.: That’s my last name.
AMI: A legitimate government name.
One person who definitely calls you Gracie is Roscoe, aka Slim Krusty. We couldn’t do this interview without mentioning that.
You two are really good friends, and he was so proud to share that. He was raving about you.
A.C.: Legend. He’s such a dag.
AMI: Have you made any other special friendships through music? You and Roscoe play together a lot.
A.C.: Roscoe and I have a song together. It was really cool, but then we had a few disagreements about what we wanted the other person to say.
He’s like, “We should get back to that song.”
I’m like, “You forgot, man. We had pages of discussion. I was sold on this and you hated it. You were sold on that and I hated it.”
But it’s a really cool song. We will play it. We love playing together.
Touring with Willie Watson
TINA: I wanted to ask about Willie Watson. How did his Australian tour come about for you?
A.C.: I have a booker, Sean Simmons from Press Play Presents. He got in contact with Love Police and got me booked for the tour.
It was such a cool experience. Willie is such a cool guy.
I had more downtime because he was playing festivals between our shows. He also played in Cairns, and I didn’t go to Cairns because that would have really blown the budget.
I chilled out for four days and did nothing in Queensland while he was working like a dog. He had no spare time.
He’s a hardworking man. A really cool, fun guy.
What does success look like in 2026?
AMI: Is that the level of success you’re aspiring to, or does it look like too much of a slog?
A.C.: I don’t really know.
If you were to talk to Willie about whether he feels successful in music, I think you’d find it a really interesting conversation. Success in music is gauged by so many different things.
You could be the most commercially successful musician in the world but still feel like you haven’t succeeded because your bar is set so high, or because you’re not happy with the work you’re putting out.
At the end of the day, if I could make enough money from music to not have another job, that would be mad cool. That would be one idea of success.
But Willie has a clothing label. He works like a dog outside of music as well. Willie is freaky successful, but he still has to work really hard at other things at the same time.
I’m contemplating becoming a nurse at the moment, which would mean music might stop for a bit—or quite a while.
The slog to become successful as a musician means putting your whole normal-life success on hold. I can’t afford a holiday. I’m always going to be renting in share houses and stuff like that.
The idea of being a successful musician is so weird in 2026.
AMI: It’s super tough out there.
A.C.: It is. Other musicians say, “You’ve got to love what you do.”
I love what I do, but I love eating as well.
I can be a nurse and still write songs on the weekend. Just because people aren’t hearing them as much doesn’t mean I’m not a musician or a songwriter.
You’ve got to fill your own cup. Maybe becoming commercially successful won’t actually fill your cup.
AMI: Even before you reach that level, there’s the experience of people perceiving you all the time.
We were talking before we went on air about speaking on Instagram and how you have to craft the way you say things. You don’t want to sound overexcited or inauthentic.
A.C.: Or like an influencer. I don’t want to sound like…
TINA: You don’t want to be putting it on.
AMI: No matter how much you like someone on the internet, they inevitably end up saying, “I just wanted to jump on…”
A.C.: Not the “jump on”.
“Hey guys, just wanted to jump on and say…”
It’s supposed to sound casual. You’re just jumping in.
I really struggle to promote myself. I end up getting monotone and blank-faced, and it’s awkward.
Slim Krusty loves yapping on Instagram. He loves promotion. He just chucks it up and he’s always funny.
Maybe I should get Roscoe to do my promo, but no, I shouldn’t. He’d make it terrible.
AMI: He’d pick the wrong photo.
A.C.: He’d pick the wrong photo, and he likes to say A.C. stands for “Assault Charge”.
He says the silliest things.
One cover only
AMI: What do you listen to?
A.C.: A mix of everything. I love Kurt Vile forever and Gillian Welch.
TINA: I saw that you did a cover of ‘Look at Miss Ohio’. It’s so beautiful.
A.C.: I love that song. It has such a good story.
I also love how she says “ragtop”, meaning a convertible. I’d never heard that term before. I was like, “That’s such a sick term. Now I want a convertible.”
AMI: Just so you can say, “I’m going to jump in my ragtop.”
A.C.: Yeah. “With my ragtop down, driving around town.”
AMI: Do you like playing covers?
A.C.: No. Just that one. That’s my cover.
When I was about 10, my guitar teacher (shout out to Jeff) told me you should never play a cover in public unless you think it rivals the original.
You have to love the song. Don’t do a cover if you don’t feel the cover, because people can tell when it’s shit.
I’ve covered lots of songs I love and I love singing them at home. But when I started playing ‘Look at Miss Ohio’, I was like, “This is my jam. This is my song.”
I feel every word. I can picture the scenarios around every lyric, so I sing it as though it’s one of my own.
AMI: I love that you have such a high standard for your covers.
A.C.: Tell a 10-year-old, “Never do a cover unless…” and that will stick with them.
Writing songs, not chasing stages
TINA: Will you be touring? Do you have plans to go overseas or play festivals?
A.C.: I’d love to go overseas. Slim Krusty was trying to get me to go to the UK with him, and I was like, “Yeah, cool, Captain. I’ve got no money.”
At the end of the day, the music isn’t going to fund the trip. I’m going to fund the trip.
I’m probably more likely to go on a little holiday somewhere nice than do a tour. But if a band asked me to go overseas with them, it was a good deal, I could drive with them and the hotels were cheap, I’d definitely do it.
If I’m buying flights and all of that, it’s an impossible feat.
I’m going to release this record, and I might do some shows around Australia. We’ll see.
But I’m really excited to record and release my next record because I’ve already got the songs, concepts and everything ready to go.
Like I said, I’m a songwriter. I’m not much of a performer.
I don’t dream about touring and performing. I dream about writing songs – writing songs about my feelings.
It would be cool if I could tour them. I think the day I go on big tours will be the day I have an audience that will buy the tickets. When it’s almost guaranteed that enough tickets will be sold for me to at least break even, then you’ll be seeing me.
AMI: Otherwise, it would be frustrating going overseas and constantly having to post, “Who’s coming tonight? Who’s coming?”
A.C.: Promotion is hard. One day, hopefully, I’ll get better at it.
TINA: It’s been so great having you here.
A.C.: It’s been great being on. I’m glad it worked this time.
This is my first time being interviewed by ladies, and it was wonderful. Way better than men.
We have a similar understanding of the world – and a warmth that a lot of male interviewers don’t have.
AMI: Thank you! It’s been amazing.
Keep up with A.C. Saunders
A.C. Saunders has a new album on the way and you should try to catch her live at any opportunity that pops up cos she is an actual legend.
Follow A.C. Saunders on Instagram for new music, upcoming shows and the like.