Beth Chia’s Inner Goddess Is Getting Louder — And She’s Letting the Room Find Her

Apr 28
3 min read

There’s something about arriving just a little too late that makes you feel like you’ve already missed something important.

In typical fashion, I was running behind — just catching the tail end of Arthur Stuart as I pulled my camera from the car. The drums were echoing out into the night, a reminder that something was already in motion. One of those moments you wish you’d caught from the beginning.

But then — reset. Refocus.

Because next up was Beth Chia.

I’d seen Beth open for Ella Hooper not long ago — just her, a guitar, and a loop pedal. And honestly, that alone was enough to leave an impression.

There’s something powerful about an artist who can hold a room with so little.

But this time was different.

Standing on stage at the Albany Skate Shed, Beth wasn’t alone. Backed by a drummer, the sound had grown — deeper, fuller, carrying more weight. You could feel the work that’s been happening behind the scenes.

The kind of growth that doesn’t shout for attention, but shows up anyway.

And it’s no surprise — over the past few months, her name has been everywhere across Western Australia. Quietly, consistently building something.

The room itself matched the energy. A relaxed, chatty crowd drifting in and out, finding their place in the space. Not a crowd demanding attention — but one slowly leaning into it. Conversations softening as songs unfolded. People arriving mid-set, drinks in hand, easing into the rhythm of the night.

The Skate Shed is becoming something special in its own right.

An indoor/outdoor space where music doesn’t feel confined — where you’ve got people listening, others skating through the background, movement and sound blending into something uniquely local. If they keep evolving it the way they are, this place is going to become a real hub for intimate live music in Albany.

And Beth fits that space perfectly.

Her set moved between energy and restraint — moments you could sway to, others where everything seemed to pull inward.

She shared a new song from a recent songwriting workshop, hinting at what’s to come with a new album on the horizon. If this is the direction she’s heading, 2027 is going to be a big year.

But what stood out most wasn’t just the music — it was how she sits inside it.

Beth doesn’t demand the room. She allows it.

She knows people are talking, moving, existing in their own worlds — and instead of fighting that, she creates space for it. The kind of performer who trusts that the right people will find their way into the moment.

And they do.

From behind the lens, that creates something rare.

There were moments where she was so completely immersed in what she was doing that every frame felt like it could have been an album cover. Not staged. Not forced. Just real — caught somewhere between movement and emotion.

And maybe that’s the thing.

So much of what we see as an audience is just the surface.

The hour on stage.

The songs. The sound.

But last night was a reminder that it’s never just that.

It’s the travel. The admin. The constant push to create. The vulnerability of sharing new work. The balancing of life — motherhood, music, identity — all woven together behind the scenes.

And then, when the set ends, it doesn’t stop.

Because later in the night, camera in hand, Beth was back out there — capturing someone else’s moment. Still part of it. Still creating.