There’s a certain honesty that only brothers can get away with; cutting, unsentimental, yet laced with a wink that makes you feel like you’re in on the joke. Meet Wattmore, Brisbane’s brotherly duo who grew up in a trucking family and now communicate through guitar solos and perfectly timed eye rolls that say more than words ever could. They don’t trade in small talk; they trade in grit, sarcasm, and songs that cut close to the bone. Their latest single, “I Don’t Miss That Woman” (released August 1st), is no exception. It’s a breakup anthem that’s as greasy with diesel as it is sharp with deadpan humor.
The vocals are where the track lands its first punch. Delivered with a straight-faced conviction, the brothers give us a performance that’s as dry as the desert highway, but with an undertow of emotion that sneaks up on you. There’s no whining, no pleading; just a tone that suggests, “I’ve already seen it, survived it, and now I’m telling you the story with a smirk.” The delivery carries weight because it’s not overblown; it’s confident, unbothered, and all the more powerful because of its restraint.
Performance-wise, Wattmore lean into their brotherly chemistry. You can practically hear the side-eye between them, the unspoken understanding that only siblings share. That playfulness gives the song a unique texture: while the lyrics might sound like a goodbye scorched into smoke, the delivery keeps it human, wry, and just this side of tongue-in-cheek.
Thematically, “I Don’t Miss That Woman” is as much about reclaiming identity as it is about moving on. The truck imagery isn’t just a clever metaphor—it’s an extension of Wattmore’s DNA. The road, the engine, the side mirror—all become symbols of freedom, resilience, and the kind of emotional release you only get when you’re finally putting distance between yourself and the past. The track doesn’t wallow—it barrels forward, unapologetically fast, unapologetically free.
This song isn’t just about letting go of a relationship—it’s about doing so with unapologetic clarity. Wattmore aren’t interested in sugarcoating heartbreak or dressing it up with flowery sentiment. Instead, they strip it down, crank it loud, and let it roar like a rig pulling out of a truck stop at midnight. With co-writing input from Australian songwriting legend Allan Caswell, the track feels like a collaboration between grizzled experience and raw, lived-in truth.
The instrumentation and production match the energy flawlessly. Guitars are front and center—gritty, sharp, and unapologetic. Each riff feels like a revving engine, daring you to keep up. Solos aren’t just decorative here; they’re part of the conversation, filling in the spaces where words would feel redundant. I could smell the exhaust and taste the dust in the air.
Brisbane has a reputation for producing some rough-and-ready talent, but Wattmore stand out because they refuse to play nice. They’re not trying to be polished heartthrobs or radio-friendly sweethearts. They’re here to be real, to be loud, and to let you feel the full throttle of their honesty. “I Don’t Miss That Woman” isn’t just a breakup song; it’s a statement of intent.
So buckle up, because Wattmore aren’t offering you a comfortable ride. They’re offering you an open road, a backseat full of memories you’re glad to leave behind, and the soundtrack to help you speed away without looking back. This is breakup music for anyone who’s ready to slam the door, hit the gas, and never once check the rearview mirror.
Listen to ‘I Don’t Miss That Woman’ on Spotify
Follow Wattmore here for more information
