Ten indie rock songs by women that feature trumpet solos

The trumpet has a way of slicing through an indie rock arrangement with a voice that feels both vintage and urgent. When a woman steps up to the microphone and the brass section swells behind her, the effect can be triumphant, heartbreaking, or absurdly fun. Across the past two decades, female and female-fronted artists have reached for the instrument again and again, and the results have shaped some of the most beloved records of the genre. From the barroom swagger of a Montreal collective to the hushed folk of a Sydney living room, the trumpet solo has become a quiet signature of independence and confidence.

There is something about the timbre of the instrument that flatters a female vocal. It can mimic the ache in a lower register, or it can punch above a whispered delivery and make it sound like a shout. The trumpet functions as both ornament and exclamation point, and when it lands right, it can turn a three-minute pop song into a cinematic event. Songs that might otherwise stay tucked away in a bedroom can suddenly feel like they belong on a festival stage.

Australian listeners have long had an ear for brass in indie rock. Triple J has championed acts with horn sections for years, and venues from The Tote in Collingwood to the Oxford Art Factory in Darlinghurst have hosted bands where trumpet players share the stage with singers. Festivals like Laneway and Splendour in the Grass regularly book artists who trade the standard guitar-bass-drums setup for something with more valves and slides. The local market for brass-driven indie remains strong, with artists like Julia Jacklin and Stella Donnelly earning devoted followings across Naarm and beyond.

This list gathers ten tracks where the trumpet takes a real solo. It is also a small celebration of the kind of music Lady Indie has championed since 2013: under-heard artists, free MP3s, and a community of fans who care about discovery. Wherever you are reading from, whether on your arvo break or winding down after footy practice, these songs deserve a place in your rotation.

Arcade Fire and the Montreal brass tradition

Few bands have woven trumpet into their identity as thoroughly as Arcade Fire. The Montreal collective, co-founded by Régine Chassagne and Win Butler, has used brass since their earliest EPs. On the title track of "Neon Bible," a single trumpet line rises above the organ and drums like a siren through fog. It is mournful, almost ecclesiastical, and sets the emotional tone for an entire album about urban anxiety. The song has been a fixture on Canadian and Australian radio for nearly two decades, and it still sounds bracingly modern.

Arcade Fire's connection to Montreal runs deep, and that city's changing soundscape continues to inspire new artists. A recent lo-fi electro track about Montreal neighbourhoods captures some of the same restless spirit, proving that the brass-friendly indie tradition is still evolving. Elsewhere on "The Suburbs," the band layers trumpet with strings and guitar to evoke suburban boredom, and the solo arrives late in the song like a window being thrown open.

Cat Power's spare, vulnerable trumpet

Cat Power's 2006 album "The Greatest" is built on soul, country, and a forlorn tenderness that suits the instrument perfectly. The title track opens with a piano and Chan Marshall's searching vocal, and as the arrangement fills out, a muted trumpet wanders in to answer her phrases. It is not a flashy solo, but it is heartbreaking in its restraint. The horn acts almost like a companion, someone who shows up when you are talking to yourself at three in the morning.

Producer Danger Mouse surrounded Marshall with Memphis session players, and the result feels like a late-night confession booth with a horn section standing nearby. The trumpet throughout "The Greatest" is never loud, but it is always there, lifting lines that might otherwise sink. For Australian fans used to the louder brass of pub rock, it is a useful reminder that the instrument can whisper as effectively as it shouts.

St. Vincent's theatrical horn arrangements

Annie Clark, performing as St. Vincent, has never been shy about spectacle. Her 2017 album "Masseduction" leans heavily into horns, arranged with the kind of swagger that recalls New York Dolls and Talking Heads. The title track features a trumpet line that slices through the synths and drum machines, giving the song a brassy, confrontational edge. Clark has spoken about wanting the record to feel like a beautiful nightmare, and the brass is a big part of that texture.

Elsewhere on the album, tracks like "Los Ageless" and "Sugarboy" use trumpet to anchor choruses and bridge sections, often arriving right when the listener expects a guitar solo. It is a deliberate subversion that keeps the audience off-balance. The trumpet details are mixed loud and proud, and they reward close listening on a decent set of headphones.

Big Thief and the healing power of brass

Big Thief's music often feels like a conversation between four old friends, and when they bring in a trumpet, it feels like a fifth friend joining the table. On tracks like "Not" and "Certainty," the band uses brass to add a rural, almost gospel-inflected warmth to Adrianne Lenker's cryptic lyrics. The trumpet solos are simple, almost hymnal, and sit comfortably next to the rough-edged guitar work that defines the band's style.

Lenker has talked about wanting Big Thief's music to feel medicinal, and the trumpet arrangements support that goal. The recent story of a recovered 2015 demo is a reminder that some of the most interesting brass work in indie rock is still surfacing from private archives. For Australian audiences who came up on the folk scenes of the 2000s, it is brass that sounds like it has been sitting on a verandah for a few decades.

Japanese Breakfast's dreamy trumpet

Michelle Zauner's project Japanese Breakfast took a more pop-oriented turn on "Jubilee," and the album includes some of her most adventurous horn arrangements. The single "Be Sweet" builds toward a trumpet hook that feels equal parts new wave and yacht rock, while "Kokomo, IN" uses brass to anchor its emotional crescendo. Zauner wanted the record to feel like a celebration after the heaviness of "Psychopomp," and the trumpet is a big part of that lighter, brighter palette.

"Jubilee" was partly inspired by the loss of Zauner's mother, and the trumpet often appears in the places where the songs feel most vulnerable. It is an instrument that can carry joy and sorrow in a single phrase, and Japanese Breakfast uses it to hold both at once. For listeners in Melbourne or Brisbane bars, it is the kind of song that can turn a quiet pint into a singalong.

Mitski's orchestral swells

Mitski's "Laurel Hell" was recorded in the pandemic years, and the album leans into synth-pop and new wave textures. Several tracks feature warm horn arrangements that cut through the electronic production. "I Don't Like My Mind" opens with a trumpet figure that feels like a fanfare for an imaginary parade, before settling into a groove that is equal parts anxious and danceable. The brass on the record was arranged with care, and it gives the album a sense of grandeur that the lyrics sometimes undercut.

Mitski's approach to the trumpet is often the opposite of a traditional solo. Instead of a long, virtuosic passage, she uses short horn hits and countermelodies that frame her voice. The effect is cinematic without being bombastic. For Australian fans who discovered Mitski through Triple J rotations, it is a reminder of how versatile the instrument can be in a pop context.

Australian voices: Julia Jacklin, Stella Donnelly, and local gems

No playlist of trumpet-forward indie rock is complete without a nod to Australian artists. Julia Jacklin, who grew up in the Blue Mountains and now splits time between Sydney and overseas, has used brass arrangements on several tracks from "Don't Let the Kids Win" and "Pre-Pleasure." Her song "Body" features a muted trumpet that echoes her vocal line, adding cinematic distance to lyrics about growing up and apart.

Stella Donnelly, from Perth, has built a reputation on sharp lyrics and dry wit, and her work with producer John Castle has occasionally incorporated trumpet. Courtney Barnett, one of Naarm's most celebrated exports, has also embraced brass on tracks from her collaboration with Kurt Vile. The local scene, including bands that play The Tote and the Northcote Social Club, has long been friendly to horn sections. Venues like the Oxford Art Factory keep the brass-friendly indie circuit alive on the east coast.

For Australian listeners, the appeal of these tracks is partly about proximity. When Julia Jacklin plays a trumpet line, you can hear the room she recorded it in. When Stella Donnelly deploys a horn hook, it feels like it could have been tracked in a share house in Fremantle. The trumpet is a working tool here, used to make songs that already feel personal sound even more human.

Song	Artist	Album	Year	Trumpet mood
Neon Bible	Arcade Fire	Neon Bible	2007	Mournful, cinematic
The Greatest	Cat Power	The Greatest	2006	Restrained, soulful
Masseduction	St. Vincent	Masseduction	2017	Theatrical, swaggering
Not	Big Thief	Dragon New Warm Mountain	2022	Raw, gospel-tinged
Be Sweet	Japanese Breakfast	Jubilee	2021	Bright, new wave
I Don't Like My Mind	Mitski	Laurel Hell	2022	Cinematic, danceable
Body	Julia Jacklin	Pre-Pleasure	2022	Echoing, intimate
Boys Will Be Boys	Stella Donnelly	Beware of the Dogs	2019	Sardonic, punchy
Pressure to Party	Julia Jacklin	Don't Let the Kids Win	2016	Warm, understated
Avant Gardener	Courtney Barnett	The Double EP	2013	Dry, conversational

Put these ten tracks into a single playlist and let the trumpet do the talking. There is enough variation here for a long arvo at home, a Saturday night share house gathering, or a quiet morning with the volume turned up. Each song opens a door to a deeper catalogue, whether that means chasing down more Arcade Fire at a local record store in the inner suburbs, exploring Julia Jacklin's back catalogue on a streaming platform, or seeking out the next wave of Australian horn-driven indie at a small bar in Collingwood or Newtown.