Tim Blackwell will never be cool.
At least, not according to the only critics he actually can’t win over: his kids.
Sure, the broadcaster may have nailed Australian music’s night of nights so convincingly he’s been asked back for round two, but at home, his brood remain unmoved.
He still hasn’t watched last year’s broadcast. He’d imagined a sentimental family moment: popcorn, couch, dad on screen, tiny cheer squad beaming with pride. Instead, the kids bailed after roughly 30 seconds. His daughter vanished. The Lego came out.
“I had this grand plan that we’d sit down and watch it on-demand together as a family. I think we got through about 30 seconds of my opening before the kids wandered off,” he told Mediaweek.
A new-look ARIAs, powered by Spotify
Blackwell, who makes up one third of Nova’s national Drive show Ricki-Lee, Tim & Joel, return comes at a pivotal moment. The ARIAs have inked a deal with Spotify that shifts the event from traditional broadcast to a globally networked, streaming-first format.
Spotify AUNZ managing director Mikaela Lancaster told Mediaweek the partnership broadens the scale and stakes.
“Winners will soon feature across high-impact out-of-home placements around the world, including London, New York’s Times Square, and even Cairo,” she said.
It’s a step-change for an institution that has long celebrated world-class talent; now the infrastructure finally matches the ambition.
For Blackwell, the moment feels equal parts overdue and thrilling.
“We’re taking over the world,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“We are world-class,” he said. “We’ve always punched above our weight, but now more than ever. This year we’ve got people like Dom Dolla and Amyl and the Sniffers. We’re taking over the world.”
Last year, even after decades of live broadcasting, he found himself standing side-of-stage wide-eyed, temporarily forgetting he was supposed to be working. It takes real wattage to impress someone who’s been behind a mic for half his life; the local industry delivered.
And this year, the energy feels bigger again, and not just in scale, but in confidence.
No autocue required
Blackwell’s secret weapon isn’t polish, it’s instinct.And sure, while the idea of a performing winging it on the night might spark a nervous breakdown in even the most seasoned live television producer, Blackwell is adamant there is method to his madness.
For him, after spending two-plus decades in radio, scripts feel foreign, and teleprompters? Even worse.
“I’m terrible at reading off a script – truly shocking,” he laughed. “People on TV love the teleprompter, but reading something someone else wrote makes me more nervous than anything.”
Last year, he ditched half the run-sheet and trusted his gut. This year, he’s doubling down on the same philosophy: stay loose, stay present, steer with instinct.
“I let the night take me,” he says. “That’s the only way I know how to do it.”
It’s less “under-prepared” and more “over-practised at being present.”
As for grooming prep?
“I’ll probably get a haircut, maybe a shower, roll on some deodorant,” he grins.
The moment he can’t wait for
One moment has his attention, though: The opening performance.
It features a close friend whose year has been, in his words, “huge.” Pride mixed with nerves, and the adrenaline of knowing that moment signals go time.
“It’s when the waiting’s over,” he said. “And the fun starts.”
Cool? Not to his kids.
But to the Australian music industry?
Exactly the right mix of humble, chaotic, and razor-sharp. Exactly what this new ARIA era demands.