Wattmore’s “Romantic Side” doesn’t tiptoe—it kicks the damn door in. The Brisbane-based brothers Aiden and Kai Boak don’t just blur genres; they tie them to the back of a truck and drag them through the dirt. With their second single, the duo doubles down on everything that made “Circus Life” buzzworthy and then lights a match under it. Equal parts country drawl and punk bite, “Romantic Side” is the kind of song that sounds like it was written in the back of a dive bar while watching Tinder dates go sideways.
There’s a razor-sharp wit buried beneath the twangy guitars and steel-string swagger. Lines slice through modern dating clichés with the precision of someone who’s seen behind the filtered profiles and decided to laugh instead of cry. You can hear the Caswell influence in the tight, classic structure—but Wattmore roughs it up just enough to make it feel like a smirking confession rather than a radio-ready romance. It’s brutally self-aware, but never bitter. If anything, it’s too honest—and that’s exactly why it works.
Musically, the track is a shot of adrenaline. The guitar tones bounce between southern rock twang and gritty barroom punch, while the rhythm section keeps things marching forward with just the right amount of tension. You can hear the Oasis in the swagger, the Waylon Jennings in the storytelling—but Wattmore isn’t mimicking anyone. They’re pulling from the wreckage of their influences and building something completely their own: rough-edged, heart-forward, and utterly unfiltered.
The vocal delivery seals the deal. Aiden’s voice is raw and a little cracked, like someone who’s just said too much but doesn’t regret it. There’s frustration, humour, longing—all tangled together in a tone that sounds like it’s been seasoned by every awkward date and midnight heartbreak. When he sings about his so-called “romantic side,” it’s half sincere, half challenge, like he’s daring you to see past the bravado. And somehow, you do.
“Romantic Side” is the sound of two brothers holding a mirror to dating culture and not flinching at what they see. It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s honest in a way that most love songs aren’t brave enough to be. Wattmore doesn’t just ask for your attention—they earn it, one broken pickup line and barbed hook at a time. If this is the future of alt-country-punk, sign us up—we’ll meet you at the bar, bruised heart and all.
