Some bands are formed from a preordained sense of purpose or a self-aggrandising dream. Others are more serendipitous. Geowulf fall into the latter category. Their divine conception is a result of childhood friends Toma and Star coming together after years of friendship to work on music together. The band isn’t simply a product of happenstance, however. They were signed shortly after playing their first show, giving some weight to the idea of destiny being involved too.

The two grew up in a small coastal town near Brisbane in Australia but were separated for a few years before writing together. Toma has lived in London for the last five years. Meanwhile Star inducted herself into a nomadic life: she moved to Sweden, then back to Australia, then back to Sweden again with a few trips to Berlin in between before settling in London. It’s around this time she started writing, using music as a way to give foundation to or explore the emotion of a roaming lifestyle.

Though her parents are musicians – they were in 80’s-style Australian rock bands – Star didn’t write music as a child. She grew up with her grandmother and away from her parents influence. The catalyst for her meander into songwriting instead came while studying a course in photography. “The pressure to do [photography] as a career felt a bit overwhelming. What can I offer that people aren’t already doing?” she says. Then there’s the break-up: an event inspiring her to move from the poetry she wrote as a child and into music, using it as an artistic form of catharsis.

In London, Toma had been performing with his brother in Tempesst. Unlike Star, Toma was embedded in music from a young age. “His family will break into five part harmonies of old hymns,” says Star. Toma continues: “It’s like The Partridge Family.” In a way, the pair embodies opposing sides of the same coin, making a whole; Star is more laidback and relaxed, whereas Toma is a bundle of high energy. “Whether you’re working or in friendships, you’re trying to find out the things you’re missing to balance yourselves out,” explains Toma. As a result, their two personalities compliment each other. This perfect Yin and Yang together created Geowulf.

One of the first songs they wrote together is “Saltwater”, a shimmering dream-pop-like track which quickly reached over 4 million plays on Spotify. Drawing from the likes of Beach House, Mazzy Star and Fleetwood Mac, it’s a supreme slice of songwriting and one rooted in the “ocean-like, washy sounds of the band”. Because that’s the thing about Geowulf; as much as their conception is organic, their atmosphere is rooted in something natural too. Geo means earth, which Star combined with the namesake of the Swedish warrior Beowulf to create the group’s name.

In the year since “Saltwater” was released, Geowulf have followed up with two more songs of equally pristine, shimmering tone. The first, “Don’t Talk About You”, is an ode to a love lost and wrapped up reflective palette of lazy yet meaningful Sunday afternoon dreaming. The second, released this April, is called “Won’t Look Back”. Evocative of its name, the track is a hypnotic composition about looking forward to what’s going to happen next rather than being cemented in the past. On the surface there’s positivity to all three tracks, but there’s also a depth to Geowulf’s songwriting. “If you stripped the songs back to just guitar and vocals, a deeper level comes out,” explains Toma. “We want to get the balance right of not being too indulgent but having meaning”.

Geowulf are now back with Get You, a track that simply glistens & provides the perfect accompaniment for the Summer ahead. Expect to hear characteristic sun-drenched synths & infectious hook-lines that fans of the band have already fallen in love with. Get Out forms one quarter of their Relapse EP, released via 37 Adventures, which also bundles their 3 previous singles into a fantastic body of work.

In a nutshell, the band perfectly capture memories of the past – whether heartbreak or something else – yet also provide a space to move beyond and become washed anew. They’re songs of hope as much as they are cathartic erasures. There’s familiarity but also freshness to the sound. It’s an atmosphere of complete duality. Ultimately in an age of bands riding on novelty or wrongly placed self-belief, it’s refreshing to see one that’s built on a natural foundation of good music. There’s a beautiful serendipity to Geowulf’s story, which only adds magic to the already spellbinding music they create.