Interview: Simon Orton
Australian independent artist Simon Orton talks to Louder Than The Music about the release of his deeply personal new Christian single, 'Davey's Story,' and how his brother's life with cerebral palsy taught him so much.
For those who haven't heard of you before, can you tell us a bit about yourself and how you got involved in making music?
I’m an Australian singer-songwriter and guitarist, but most of my professional life has been spent working across Australia in safety, risk and psychosocial services, helping organisations create healthier and safer workplaces.
A big part of that work is understanding people, not just systems. My brother Davey actually taught me a great deal about that long before I ever used words like emotional intelligence professionally.
Davey lived with cerebral palsy, severe communication challenges and a very limited spoken vocabulary. To genuinely communicate with him, you had to pay attention to the things that weren’t being said. You had to watch his eyes, facial expressions, posture, breathing, physical cues and emotional responses.
That taught me to maintain an awareness of non-verbal communication and to actually feel what is happening emotionally when you’re engaged in a conversation, rather than just listening to the words.
I believe we’re all born with that ability, but unfortunately a lot of people suppress it as they get older. If you consciously maintain that connection, it can build much stronger interpersonal skills and emotional intelligence. It can make an enormous difference in leadership, professional life, friendships, family and relationships.
For me, it also comes back to something very simple: Jesus taught us to love first.
Music has been part of my life since school, particularly through guitar, and later I spent many years serving as a guitarist in different church music ministry teams.
Recording my own music really only began just over twelve months ago, when I felt very strongly called to use music differently — not for fame or personal glory, but as another form of ministry and hopefully as a way of helping people heal.
One Scripture that sits strongly behind that calling is John 3:16 — Salvation through Christ.
I’ve also been incredibly fortunate to work with some exceptional people in the Australian music scene, including producer Sven Tydeman and mastering engineer Paul Stefanidis. Their experience has helped me take some very personal songs and turn them into recordings that can hopefully connect with people well beyond my own circle.
Tell us about your new single ‘Davey’s Story’ and why you decided to record such a personal song?
Davey’s Story is probably the most personal song I’ve recorded.
It’s about my younger brother David, who lived with cerebral palsy, severe communication challenges and a very limited vocabulary.
A life involving different forms of pain, frustration and dependence was unfortunately normal for Davey.
But he was never defined by what he couldn’t say.
He communicated constantly if you were prepared to really engage with him.
In many ways, Davey taught our family another language - one based on physical cues, intuition, facial expression, emotion and connection.
That had a profound influence on me and still affects the way I communicate with people today.
The beginnings of Davey’s Story actually go back to when I was about twelve years old. I wrote my first song for Davey back then, and many years later, when he passed away, I returned to that idea and rewrote the song after his funeral.
The circumstances surrounding his death also became a very difficult chapter for our family. We went through a coronial investigation into the final details of his death while he was in hospital care.
That process brought another layer of grief, questioning and emotional pain.
It required a great deal of prayer, emotional and mental forgiveness, and ultimately a decision as a family that we didn’t want pain simply to create more pain.
We wanted there to be something constructive that came out of it - particularly a desire to see other people living with disability receive better care and greater dignity.
A Scripture that has been particularly meaningful through that journey is Colossians 3:13 - Forgiveness and grace.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean pretending something didn’t hurt or saying that better care isn’t necessary.
Sometimes forgiveness is what allows you to put down the burden of what happened while still advocating strongly for better outcomes for others.
The way I recorded the vocal was also very deliberate.
I chose to sing Davey’s Story in a register and range that feels more vulnerable and less powerful than my natural comfort range.
I deliberately moved away from where my voice is strongest because I didn’t want the vocal performance to draw attention to me.
I wanted the song to sound exposed and fragile in places because that is what the story is.
The emotion needed to come before vocal power.
What do you hope other people will take from this song?
More than anything, I hope people feel seen.
I particularly hope parents, siblings, families and carers who have spent years caring for a child or loved one with disability hear something of their own experience in the song.
There can be extraordinary love in that journey, but also exhaustion, frustration, fear, grief and forms of pain that people outside that experience may never fully understand.
And when the person you’ve cared for eventually passes away, the emotions can become very complicated.
You desperately miss them, but at the same time there can be some peace in knowing that the pain and suffering they carried has finally ended.
One Scripture that captures that hope beautifully for me is Revelation 21:4 - The end of pain and suffering.
That idea sits deeply within Davey’s Story.
I also hope people take something from what Davey taught me about communication.
Real connection often happens before words.
If we genuinely listen with our eyes as well as our ears, we start noticing discomfort, uncertainty, sadness, joy, fear and emotion that another person may never actually verbalise.
That ability can transform relationships.
We live in a world where everyone is talking, but genuine listening is sometimes becoming quite rare.
Davey taught me that sometimes the person who says the least can actually teach you the most.
And again, for me it comes back to that central Christian principle: love first.
If we begin with compassion, understanding often follows.
Do you have any plans to release more music in the near future?
Absolutely.
Writing has become quite prolific for me and there is a lot more music coming.
The songs tend to grow out of real experiences - faith, family, love, relationships, grief, trauma, recovery, forgiveness and finding purpose after difficult chapters in life.
I’m not particularly interested in releasing music simply to satisfy an algorithm or keep up with an industry schedule.
I want each song to have something meaningful to say.
The music is ministry for me before it is an industry.
How would you describe your style of music and what are your influences?
I’d probably describe it as country and acoustic storytelling, sometimes with elements of rock, gospel and cinematic music.
My influences are fairly broad, but three artists I particularly admire are Amy Grant, Vince Gill and Jelly Roll.
Amy Grant has always impressed me because of the way she can bring faith, vulnerability and humanity into music without making it feel forced.
Vince Gill combines extraordinary musicianship with restraint and emotional sincerity.
And Jelly Roll really interests me because he has shown that songs about brokenness, addiction, redemption, pain and faith can connect with an enormous audience without pretending that life is neat or uncomplicated.
That mixture of honesty, lived experience and faith is something I relate to strongly.
I also have a fairly deep, gravelly voice (Normally), so I’ve learned not to fight that.
But I don’t want every song to become an exercise in vocal power.
Sometimes vulnerability is much more powerful.
That was particularly important with Davey’s Story. To sing well outside my comfort zone.
If you could work with any songwriter, who would it be and why?
That’s difficult because I’d probably choose differently depending on the song.
Working with Vince Gill would be extraordinary because of the emotional intelligence in both his songwriting and musicianship.
I’d love to write with Amy Grant, particularly around faith, family, healing and hope. She has spent decades communicating those themes with enormous warmth and authenticity.
And writing with Jelly Roll would be fascinating because he has an extraordinary ability to take very difficult personal experiences and turn them into songs that give other people permission to confront their own story.
Those are the writers I’m drawn to — people who aren’t frightened of difficult subjects but still leave the listener with hope.
How would you define success in your career as an artist?
Success for me isn’t fame.
Streams, radio play, playlists, followers and chart positions are encouraging because they mean the music is reaching people, but they aren’t the mission.
Success is receiving a message from someone saying, “That song helped me through something.”
My professional career has largely been about helping people stay physically and psychologically safer at work.
Music feels like an extension of that same purpose.
In professional life, you might use engineering, risk management, psychosocial practice, governance or leadership.
In music, sometimes three minutes of honesty and vulnerability can reach somewhere that a report or presentation never could.
If somebody finds hope, healing, forgiveness or renewed purpose because of one of my songs, then for me that is success.
What is your favourite album of all time?
That’s almost impossible because different albums have meant different things at different stages of my life.
I tend to come back to music where you can hear the humanity behind the performance.
That’s why artists like Amy Grant and Vince Gill have remained meaningful influences.
I’m much more interested in emotional truth than technical perfection.
The recordings I remember most are usually the ones where you can hear somebody’s life inside the performance.
You're stuck on an island, it's hot, you only have enough battery life left to listen to one song on your phone. What track is it?
That’s cruel!
I’d probably choose something from Vince Gill - something with enough warmth and honesty to make those last few minutes of battery worthwhile.
Although if I’m genuinely stranded on a tropical island, I might need to reconsider and choose something slightly more upbeat than most of my songwriting influences!
What does the next year hold for you?
Hopefully more writing, more recording, more collaboration and more opportunities to connect music with purpose.
I want to continue developing as a songwriter and recording artist, but I’m particularly interested in the places where music can intersect with conversations around grief, disability, trauma, psychosocial wellbeing, forgiveness, faith and healing.
I’ll also continue my professional work in safety, risk and psychosocial health.
Increasingly, I don’t see those two parts of my life as being separate.
Both are ultimately about helping people.
Davey taught me an enormous amount about that.
He taught me to notice people, to understand physical and non-verbal cues, to feel what may be happening beneath somebody’s words, and to stay connected to the emotional intelligence I believe we are all born with.
That lesson has helped me in workplaces, boardrooms, friendships, family relationships and music.
Ultimately, I think it comes back to one of the simplest lessons Jesus gave us: love first.
With Davey’s Story, I hope something healing can come from something deeply painful - honouring my brother, honouring those who cared for him, encouraging better care and greater dignity for people living with disability, and perhaps helping another family realise they are not alone.
The mission remains very simple:
Not fame. Not glory. To serve, to love first, and hopefully to see people healed.
