Young At Heart: James Hartley
The late 2000s to early 2010s are well regarded as the golden era of the Australian hardcore scene.
Gigs were packed, bands like Parkway Drive were exploding, the internet was helping people connect all over the country, everything was in the right place, and Adelaide’s James Hartley was there to document it all. Originally shooting skateboarding, after being asked by his friend George Martin, the front man of Adelaide hardcore band, Stronghold, to shoot their show his focus changed, obsessed with capturing the energy of the shows he was at. Now, these photographs that document everything from the high energy in the middle of the mosh, to the quiet moments on the road and all the hijinx in between are compiled in James’ latest self-published book, Young at Heart. Three hundred and twenty pages of rare and unseen photographs shot between 2006 and 2013 featuring some of Australia’s finest hardcore bands from the era.
Young at Heart is sold out online but there will be fifty signed copies available at the official launch in Melbourne at, At The Above on the 14th of March.
You made a post on Instagram last week about a photo of Stronghold that is in the book, and you said it was your first time shooting a hardcore show. Had you ever thought about shooting shows before that one?
Not really. I was only exposed to hardcore peripherally before that Stronghold show. I was going to punk shows all through high school, and that’s where I started seeing hardcore bands in the crossover. I had no idea it was this tight-knit community beyond just being a genre of music.
What was it about shooting that first show that got you hooked?
It was the first time I had taken a photo that looked exactly how the moment felt. I remember looking at the contact sheet and everything just felt so extreme. Shit was everywhere. So much energy. I was in awe of how cool this scene was, and it didn’t feel like anyone was documenting it. It felt like the first time I had been exposed to the underground, and I got to be a part of it. Later on, I realized I wasn’t just part of the hardcore scene, but actively contributing to it in a meaningful way, and that became a life priority.
Did you find any similarities between shooting skateboarding and a hardcore show?
Well at a hardcore show - I feel like the trick always gets landed [laughs]. It really sucks spending a whole day with someone trying to land a trick, then they either don’t land it, or they do and then it never gets published.
I had a fisheye and remote flashes from shooting skating, and the fisheye had a similar effect when shooting this genre of music - just as it makes stairs or a rail look bigger, it makes the crowd seem huge and stage dives look higher. Since hardcore is all about participation, the wide-angle forces you to get close to the action and get involved. I think that perspective gives the viewer a feeling of being right there in the photo.
But also, the lighting at these venues is dogshit, and digital cameras had the worst low-light capabilities back then. You had to rely on a flash to light the shot and freeze motion. Because I had a few flashes with transmitters from skating, I could place them around the venue to light the scene.
What was the hardcore scene like in Australia at that time?
I’ll defer to Jem from Speed, who called it the golden era of Australian hardcore—and it truly felt that way. It was an incredible time to be part of the scene. Parkway Drive was exploding, show attendance was at an all-time high, and we were just entering the early days of internet connectivity. MySpace and online forums now allowed people to connect nationally, and globally in different scenes.
Adelaide had a huge wave of hardcore bands in the early 2000s - Day of Contempt, Shotpointblank, I Killed The Prom Queen. These bands played a massive role in shaping the Australian scene, laying the groundwork for its eventual explosion. When I found hardcore, I realized Adelaide’s scene already had a lot of history, and it had been thriving for some time. But also, it didn’t feel like anyone had captured or archived much of it. Most of my experience of those bands in Adelaide was an oral history.
One thing I don’t love about these sorts of music projects, is the nostalgia-driven idea that things were better “back in the day” - and I don’t think that’s true at all with this. Shows today have more diverse crowds, way more girls in bands and in the pit, and people’s style just look sick. From a photographic perspective, social media and constant camera access have made people more aware of the lens in a different way. The internet has also become an archive of the past, shaping style and sound. Looking through this book, it’s clear the scene was mostly dudes. Sure, there were girls at shows and in some bands, but nowhere near as many as now—and that alone is testament to how far the scene has come.
Who were some of your favourite bands from that era?
The simple answer is every band that’s in this book. I don’t really take photos of bands I don’t like. But the actual answer to that question is Street Youth.
What made you want to put together Young at Heart now?
The timing felt right. Australian hardcore is experiencing another wave, much like it did when I was shooting the scene. I thought it’d be cool to share these images physically, to give a glimpse of how things were ten or fifteen years ago - not because it was better, but to hopefully inspire the next generation to continue this archiving process. (You’re up next, Ruddzy!) It’s important to me that these moments exist in physical form and are tangible—so much of hardcore’s history is shared through words, photos, and stories. Ultimately, I hope this encourages other photographers to put out their own books. That’s how this shit stays alive - far better than letting it sit on a hard drive forever.
How did you choose what photos you used in the book?
It’s been a long process. Back in July, I started going through my archive, pulling together a wide selection of standout images from that era. Then, with the help of my good friend Tyrone Ormsby, we started slowly refining it into something cohesive. We started going to shows in Adelaide at the same time, so he lived through it all and understood the vision I was trying to achieve. I also fully trust his eye for flow and storytelling, and he absolutely crushed the layout and design. This book wouldn’t exist without him.
The book is made up of images shot between 2006-2013, why does the book stop at 2013?
I moved to NYC in 2014.
You’re still shooting photos today, where has photography taken you?
It’s taken me to five continents and nearly fifty countries. I ultimately ended up moving to NY to further my career and my experiences creatively. I then ended up meeting my wife in New York, and we now have a kid here. Nearly everything that’s happened in the past twenty years has stemmed from me picking up a camera.
Looking back now, what are your memories of that time like?
I had no idea what I wanted to do after school. I wouldn’t say I was lost, but I had no clear sense of who I was, where I fit in, or what my future would look like. I was just into skateboarding, music, and hanging out with friends. After my first tour, nothing else mattered. From 2008 to 2011, I spent most of my time constantly touring. I found a community where I felt accepted and supported in my growth. It gave me the confidence to pursue my passion and feel like I was contributing to something bigger.
It was also an incredibly freeing time. I didn’t have a care in the world. Things are a little different now, a few more responsibilities, but I’m still lucky enough to work in music and tour the world with bands. Even though my priorities have shifted, I’ve always been determined to make a living off doing something I loved, and it’s still a huge part of me. There’s something magical about live music that’s impossible to replicate.