the UNDERGROTHE podcast is a long form conversation hosted by Eric Grothe Snr & Eric Grothe Jnr, both former professional rugby league football players, so be a fly on the wall as this father and son team chat about the current NRL season amongst many other things. It's gonna get weird.

Six years in the making, FALL FROM THE LIGHT, the highly anticipated album from hip hop icons HILLTOP HOODS, has arrived.

Featuring singles ‘The Gift ft. Marlon’, ‘Don’t Happy, Be Worry’, ‘Laced Up’ and ‘Never Coming Home ft. SIX60’, the 12-track offering takes listeners on a journey that feels as ambitious and triumphant for the fans, as it has been for Suffa, Pressure and Debris themselves.

Blending fun, vulnerability and vignettes that highlight their masterful cadence and technical flow, the ninth record from Hilltop Hoods wastes no time in getting to work upon arrival. Produced by One Above with additional production by Sesta and Suffa, Fall From The Light was recorded in Adelaide, Darwin, Melbourne, and New Zealand and features a range of special guests.

Hilltop Hoods will return to arenas across Australia on their Never Coming Home Tour in Feb/Mar 2026 along with dates in the UK & Europe for Aug/Sep 2025.

Their unparalleled career speaks for itself - over 89 Platinum accreditations, 1.1 million album sales and over 1.8 billion global streams, six #1 albums, the most entries into triple j’s Hottest 100 for an Australian Artist, ten ARIA award wins, and multiple sold-out Arena tours solidifying Hilltop Hoods as one of the Australia’s most successful names in music, period. The music they make is done with the intent to connect and last with fans, regardless of age, background, or creed; time and time again, their formula pays dividends and then some.

Management: 
contact@theastonshuffle.com

DJ Promos:
theastonshuffle@gmail.com

Bookings (AU/NZ/Asia)
Paul Stix
stix@undrctrl.com

https://odesza.co/tlg-albumSo

Americas Booking: 
jmoss@teamwass.com

Europe / UK Booking:
James.whitting@paradigmagency.com

Rest of World Booking:
jmoss@teamwass.com / James.whitting@paradigmagency.com

Mgmt: 
adam@redlightmanagement.com

Billy Birmingham’s comedy creation 'The 12th Man'.

My long search for the enigmatic Mr Burton has led me into the mystic bowels of old Chinatown, deep underneath the cobbled streets of San Francisco. I find myself nestled into the darkest corner of the dingiest, dank opium den. Behind a stained curtain I am introduced to Mr Chen, who, im told has information on the whereabouts of Jack. 
“Jack Burton, yeah I know that guy. Lots of trouble, nice hair though. And if you see him, tell that asshole still owes me a truck”
A puff of smoke crawls across the brim of Mr Chens hat, it slithers into the air taking the impossibly conspicuous form of an arrow, pointing towards a badly lit corridor to my right. 
“More you find down there” he adds, in an increasingly creepy tone. 
Only then do I first gaze upon his eyes. They are bright green and menacing. 
Am I meant to follow? What kind of old-world GPS is this? Having ingested countless ‘Choose your own adventure’ book in my misspent youth, I choose to take the chance and follow the signs. 
Some say Jacks mother was an Amazon warrior and his father was a god damn circus lion, others say he fell from the sky like a meteorite and landed in a wig and singlet store. His origins are many but they all imply the same stark fact. Jack Burton is an everyman with extraordinary powers. His diamond sharp jawline and impervious bouffant hairstyle are stuff of legend, and he has used these unique powers to fight unknowable evil across infinite realms. 
Somewhere along his path he swapped his fighting swords for writing chords, a calculated move to throw the gargoyles, vampires and exploding martial arts champions off his scent.
He has hid in the depths of deep disco, forever distancing himself from his past…until now.
As I cautiously meander towards the corridor and push aside the shadowy bamboo curtain, I am faced with a black wall, and on it is written in chalk “Don’t Ya Wanna See?”. Underneath the hastily scribbled double entendre is a hulking shadow. It lurches forward and under the dim light I make out a familiar face. It’s Mikah Freeman wearing little more than a trucker cap and shit-eating grin. 
“It’s me man! How do you like my new jam?”
Mikah’s new passion project is inspired by the erotic frivolity of the 60s, caramel-smooth funk of the 70s and digital uprising of the 80s and 90s. Jack Burton is the result of one man diving into a figurative kaleidoscope of sound and being reborn with a tech-nine machine gun and a mullet. 
All things aside, If this expedition has taught me anything it would be that if you aren’t listening to a Burton record, then you ain’t got Jack.

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