I watched the ARIAs last month and felt a familiar mix of pride and frustration. Pride because Australian music is genuinely brilliant right now. Frustration because the ceremony felt like it was designed for an industry that stopped existing about ten years ago.

This isn’t just about who won or who was snubbed. It’s about whether our premier music awards actually reflect and serve the Australian music ecosystem as it exists today.

The Disconnect

The ARIAs were established in 1987, and while the categories have evolved, the fundamental structure hasn’t changed much. Albums compete against albums. Singles compete against singles. Genres get their own categories. It makes sense if you think of the music industry as a series of distinct product launches.

But that’s not how most Australian artists operate anymore. A bedroom producer in Logan might release a track every two weeks, build a following entirely on TikTok and SoundCloud, sell out their first live show based on online momentum, and never release a traditional “album.” Where does that artist fit in the ARIA framework?

The answer, mostly, is they don’t. The ARIAs require a physical or digital release through an ARIA-member distributor. The nomination process relies heavily on sales and streaming data that favours artists with major label marketing budgets. Independent artists can and do get nominated, but the playing field is nowhere near level.

What Other Countries Are Doing

The UK’s BRIT Awards have experimented with removing gendered categories and adding new awards for rising artists voted on by a broader panel. The results haven’t been perfect, but the willingness to evolve is there.

South Korea’s music awards have embraced fan voting as a significant factor, which has its own problems but at least acknowledges that audience engagement matters more than critic consensus.

The Grammys, despite their many flaws, introduced a Best Song for Social Change category and have been slowly expanding what counts as worthy of recognition.

Australia’s ARIA Awards have been slower to experiment. The addition of Best Australian Live Act was a good step. But we’re still largely working within a framework designed for an era of CD sales and radio rotation.

What I’d Change

Create a Best Independent Release category. Not “Best Independent Release” as defined by distribution method, but a genuine category celebrating self-funded, artist-controlled music. Make the entry criteria about how the music was made and released, not who distributed it.

Add a Best Live Performance award that’s actually voted on by audiences. Let fans nominate and vote for the best live show they attended that year. Live music is the backbone of Australian music culture, and it deserves more than a single category.

Rethink the genre categories. Is “Best Adult Contemporary Album” really serving anyone in 2026? Some genres that dominate Australian music culture — post-punk, bedroom pop, electronic-adjacent indie — don’t have clear ARIA categories. Meanwhile, categories with three nominees feel vestigial.

Lower the barriers for independent artists. The current nomination process functionally favours artists with teams who understand the submission process and have the resources to campaign. Simplify submissions, reduce costs, and actively seek nominations from outside the usual industry channels.

Broadcast more of the actual music. The televised ARIA ceremony spends an enormous amount of time on presenter banter, sponsor segments, and lifestyle content. Play more music. Show more performances. Let the art be the centrepiece.

The Counter-Argument

Some people in the industry argue that the ARIAs serve a specific commercial function — they’re an industry event that happens to have a public-facing component. Changing the format too dramatically might alienate the corporate sponsors and industry stakeholders who fund the ceremony.

That’s a fair point. But if the ARIAs become irrelevant to most Australian musicians and music fans, the sponsors will leave anyway. Better to evolve proactively than to become the music industry’s equivalent of a participation trophy.

Why It Matters

Awards ceremonies aren’t just about trophies. They shape public narratives about who matters in Australian music. When the ARIAs consistently spotlight major label artists with traditional release strategies, they send a message about what a “successful” music career looks like.

That message is increasingly disconnected from reality. Some of the most exciting, culturally significant Australian music is being made by people who will never fit the ARIA mould. If our premier awards don’t find ways to recognise that work, they’ll gradually lose their relevance.

Australian music doesn’t need saving. It’s thriving in ways the ARIAs barely acknowledge. The question is whether the awards will catch up or become a nostalgia exercise.