Simon Orton is an emerging voice in Australia’s country music scene, and his music invites you to step into a world where storytelling meets soulful sound. As a guitarist, poet, and singer-songwriter, Simon weaves together the raw grit of Queensland’s dusty back roads with the timeless traditions of classic country music. When you listen to his songs, you experience a genuine connection to rural life, family ties, and the hard-earned lessons that shape who we are.
Through Simon’s whiskey-smooth voice and six-string soul, you are taken on a journey through love, loss, resilience, and the kind of heartache that lingers like a fading sunset. His lyrics paint vivid pictures that capture the essence of Australia’s heartland, making each song feel like a personal story shared with you.
Simon grew up on a farm, and his upbringing in the open spaces of the land you might find familiar gives his music a rare authenticity. Beyond his songs, Simon travels across Australia helping businesses create safer, more emotionally aware workplaces — an experience that deepens the emotional honesty found in his songwriting.
One standout song, “The Next Me,” offers a deeply personal glimpse into the life of a first-time dad. If you’ve ever found yourself stretched between responsibilities, measuring success by hours on the clock or the wear on your boots, you’ll connect with the story Simon tells. This song was written in the quiet, stolen moments between hospital nappy changes, bath time, and bottle feeds. This song encapsulates the moment when your priorities shift and your life unexpectedly shifts from self-centeredness to selflessness.
When you listen closely to “The Next Me,” you’ll feel the late-night feeds where you are half-awake but fully present. You’ll understand the heartache of missing milestones while caught up in work and the joy mixed with ache of holding your child gently — knowing one day you’ll have to let them go. As the music swells, time seems to stretch, taking you from cot to wedding aisle, from whispered bedtime stories to watching the next chapter unfold.
Simon’s songs don’t just sing about personal moments—they remind you that the legacy you leave extends beyond yourself. Your children carry the best of you forward, not simply by blood, but through every sacrifice, every bedtime, and every whispered “I love you.”
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Blending old-school melodies with modern storytelling, Simon Orton is carving out a space uniquely his own. Whether the tune is a moving ballad or a boot-stomping anthem, his music speaks directly into your soul with authenticity that is real, raw, and unmistakably country.
If you’re drawn to music that reflects life’s complexities and the beauty of heartfelt stories, Simon Orton is an artist you’ll want to watch and listen to closely as he continues to make his mark on Australia’s country music landscape.
What led you to become a music artist, and what advice would you give to someone chasing their first hit?
My first song was a lullaby for my brother, who had a rough life that ended far too soon. Writing that song was my way of holding on and honouring his story. I left songwriting alone for years, but I’ve come back to it now with a deeper purpose.
My advice? Don’t write for charts—write for hearts. Your story matters. It can change, it can heal, and when you share it honestly, it connects in ways no popularity contest ever will.
What sets your music apart?
I don’t sing to be famous—I sing because these songs are real. I use music to help others. The songs come from lived experience—mine, my mates’, and my family’s. I use music to help people through tough times, just as it’s helped me. Whether it’s a ballad that brings tears or a good ol’ boot-stompin’ tune that lifts the spirit, I want my songs to remind folks they’re not alone. At the end of the day, I want my music to say this: I loved deeply, I stood by the people I cared about, and I used my story to help others find healing and hope.
What is one message you’d give to your fans?
Life throws its fair share of challenges, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love and hope always matter most. No matter how rough it gets, finding peace—real peace—in any situation can save a whole lot of hurt. I’m still figuring it all out myself, but I’m learning to look forward more than I look back and to help others heal along the way. That, to me, is a pretty good start.
Who would you most like to collaborate with?
That’s a tough one! Melanie Dyer from back home and Willow Avalon in the States—both write from the heart and don’t need the spotlight to shine. And of course, Paul Kelly—he’s a master storyteller. That’s what I admire most: artists who care more about meaning than hype. I’d love to do a love duet when the planets align.
What’s your current music project about?
I’m working on a track inspired by one friend saying a throwaway line one night, and then I was triggered to write another mate’s story of unrequited love—about stepping into something new after a long relationship ends, only to find the other person hasn’t quite let go of their past. It started as a poem, turned into a song, and became something really heartfelt. Telling someone else’s story with their blessing is powerful. This friend is helping at each stage of the process and truly owns the heart of the song.
Do you sing in the shower? What songs?
Absolutely—the tiled echo chamber becomes my personal concert hall. I flip between crooning like Sinatra (on a good day) and foolishly attempting songs way out of my vocal range. Think full-blown falsetto disasters. Picture me reaching for those impossible notes—somewhere between Mariah Carey and a yodelling cat. I’m under no illusions—the boy’s choir hasn’t called, and frankly, I’d be banned on health and safety grounds.
What would be a good theme song for your life?
Either Dumb Things by Paul Kelly—a melodic memoir of my greatest hits and misses—or something I made up called I Walk Into Every Room Having Already Made More Mistakes Than You.
I’m also quite partial to another mental anthem I’ve titled How to Apologise Before They Know What You Did—a guilty little number with a catchy beat and the rhythm of regret. Bonus points for heartfelt eye contact and offering snacks.
If you were to write an autobiography, what would the title be?
Life Can Be Crap: How to Get Through the Crap, Work On the Crap, and Walk Into the Next Crap With Your Head Held Higher Than the Last One.
It’s part life manual, part survival guide, with an optional scented candle section. A brutally honest tale of falling, failing, laughing, bleeding, apologising, patching things up—and eventually doing it all over again… with a little more grace and a little less panic. Only available in paperback at all slightly disappointing life moments.
If you could be a superhero, what would your superpower be and your superhero name?
I see myself in Captain America (Steve Rogers) more than any other. Not for the shield or the muscles—though I wouldn’t say no to that problem!—but because he started out as the underdog. A sickly kid who knew what it was like to be powerless, overlooked, and underestimated. He fights for the little guy, even when no one’s watching. He leads with quiet courage, compassion, and unshakable integrity. He doesn’t bark orders—he listens. He doesn’t hand out pity—he hands out hope.
Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life?
Clark Gable, no question—but maybe a bit more grounded and a lot less hairspray. I’d want someone who brings that old-world gentleman energy—the kind who can charm your socks off, then quietly carry the weight of life’s tough moments.
Someone who’s walked through fire, knows how to laugh at himself, and isn’t afraid of a monologue with heart. Really, anyone who leads with kindness and isn’t scared to look a bit rumpled from life’s battles would do me proud.
Simon’s new single is available here: https://ditto.fm/the-next-me-simon-orton
Find Simon:
I listened to the tune and it was so smooth and warm. The lyrics were relatable and I found myself humming it all day. I’d love to hear more songs from Simon Orton. A real talent – love to see him in concert.