Songwriting is an eternal kind of pursuit, always searching for ways to do it better, sometimes transforming the most deeply personal moments into songs that anyone can relate to. Some songwriters come out blazing with their first release. And some, like Matt Hawkins, work on a different clock, gradually learning that songwriting is both art and craft, that one doesn’t shine without the other.

And every part of that deep dive is revealed on the Brisbane songwriter’s superb second album, cardigan, where topics that range across grief, loss and gratitude – sometimes all in the one song in the case of the album’s extraordinary closer, Damien’s Song – to the wryly humorous and outright hilarious, like the glorious power-pop of Foolishly Maybe and the irresistible melodic sunshine of Jason Bateman.

Hawkins made a splash in the thriving Brisbane music scene of the 2000s with the band Waiting for Tom, but his solo work reveals the broadening range in his songs.

Hawkins says: “When I started writing I would do a draft and that became the song. It took me years to understand that writing is 1 percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration.”

After years without completing a song, he found the creative fire again for the tunes which appeared on his 2022 solo debut Love, Loss and Washing Lines. Songs were developed with the mentorship of one of Australia’s finest songwriters in Charles Jenkins (Icecream Hands, Charles Jenkins and the Zhivagos) and the relationship continued with songs for cardigan.

Hawkins says: “Charles really pushes me to go deeper, ‘What are you trying to say here, is there a better way to make it clear, does the tempo suit the lyric?’ It was invaluable to have someone of his experience challenge me to do better, to pick up things I couldn’t hear myself.”

Another hint to Hawkins’s songwriting inspiration comes with the opening song and first single released from the album, Crave, a tune by the late songwriter Cheyne Gelagin and bandmate Stephen Meldrum, released by The Simpletons in 1994.

Hawkins says: “At uni I got into bands like The Simpletons and The Lucksmiths who were there at the start of the great Australian indie label Candle Records,” Hawkins says. “Crave has this perfect mix of light and dark, unforgettable lyrics and characters, a little enigmatic too. It was a huge influence on me when I picked up a guitar, still is.”

That fine balance of hope, heartache and crisp lyrical insights provide the depth of field for cardigan, an album that will keep rewarding listeners for many years to come. Different Kind of Little, Different Kind of Late is a Christmas song spun from hard experience and The Anchor and the Sail is a sublime vocal duet with Kelly Jensen, whose violin also drives along the folk-pop tale of No Man’s Land.

Boundary Street explores the history of colonial oppression for the thoroughfare through Brisbane’s now buzzing inner-city suburb of West End. The boundary which gave the street its name marked the segregation line for Aboriginal people, forbidden from entering the city after 4pm, enforced by mounted police with stockwhips.

Hawkins says: “The concept of Australian history that was taught when my generation was at school was that it began in 1770. At uni I went to a lecture from a local female Elder who explained that cruel history of Boundary Street, a reality that was not just history but still current.

“I was always affected by the story and over the years learned as much as I could about Aboriginal history and became friends with many First Nations people. At first I did have a feeling, ‘This isn’t my story, who am I to write about it?’ But the support I received from those friends convinced me I should do it.”

The song was recorded at the studio of Powderfinger guitarist Darren Middleton, intended as a demo but captured so well that it is the recording used on the album.

The album’s closing elegy, Damien’s Song, honours the memory of Damien Kamholtz.

“He was a youth worker I was lucky enough to get to know through my job in education. Music, family and Aboriginal culture was a big part of his life, and he was one of those people you meet who was really special. At his funeral a poem he had written was on the funeral card. I would often look at those beautiful words about grief and love, healing. I asked his wife Rachel if I could set them to music and she said yes. I didn’t change a word.”

For Hawkins, making music the second time around has been an unexpected gift.

“Creativity opens you up to so much, the people you make music with, the new friends, the ones you haven’t seen for years. Songs are these little messages you send out to the world and you never know how they will come back to you. You write songs for yourself but when you play them on stage, you feel how they resonate with other people too.”