I appear to be becoming unexpectedly big in Australia. I use the word “big” with the caution it deserves, because there are almost certainly people in individual streets in Sydney who are considerably more famous than me. Even so, according to my latest Spotify figures, Sydney is now the city in the world where more people are listening to my music than anywhere else.

Melbourne, which only recently wrestled the title away from Nuuk, has already been deposed. For those who have not been following this developing international drama, Nuuk in Greenland spent a surprisingly long time at the top of my Spotify listener statistics. I never really discovered why. I had not toured Greenland, advertised there or, as far as I knew, accidentally become involved in a Nuuk-based musical movement. The people of Nuuk simply seemed to have decided that listening to Sean Kearns was a perfectly reasonable use of their time, and I grew very fond of them for it.

Then Melbourne arrived. I tried to welcome Melbourne graciously, while privately feeling that something precious had been lost. Melbourne becoming my biggest listening city somehow made more sense than Nuuk. It is a huge, culturally active city with a strong music scene. Nuuk was gloriously inexplicable. Now Sydney has overtaken Melbourne, and just to make sure I understand that this is becoming an Australian affair, Brisbane is sitting at number five.

So what is going on down there?

I have not knowingly launched an Australian marketing campaign. I have not been appearing on Australian television. There has been no tour involving Sydney Opera House, Melbourne’s live music venues and a triumphant finale in Brisbane. As far as I know, no influential Australian has announced that my albums are compulsory listening. Yet somehow the songs are travelling there.

That is one of the things I find genuinely fascinating about releasing music today. I write and record songs here in the UK. Much of the process takes place at home, with me building the tracks instrument by instrument in Cubase before sending the stems to Jermaine Nelson-Williams to work his production and mixing magic. Eventually the finished song goes onto Spotify and the other streaming platforms, and from that point on I lose control of where it goes.

Someone listens in Sydney. Someone else listens in Melbourne. Somebody in Brisbane presses play. Perhaps they listen once. Perhaps they listen to another song. Perhaps one person puts a track into a playlist and somebody else discovers it from there. I will probably never know, and that is both frustrating and rather wonderful.

Streaming statistics give you information, but never quite enough information. Spotify can tell me that people are listening in Sydney, but it cannot tell me why Sydney has apparently developed a sudden enthusiasm for my music. I would very much like a little box underneath the figures marked “Explanation”, ideally saying something like, “Sydney — 47 listeners. Cause: Dave told everyone at work.” At least then I would know who to thank.

Instead, I am left to speculate. Perhaps Australian listeners have particularly good taste. This is the explanation I currently favour. Perhaps my music sounds better upside down. Perhaps the time difference means my songs improve dramatically while I am asleep. Or perhaps one café in Sydney has somehow obtained my complete catalogue and cannot work out how to turn shuffle off.

Whatever the explanation, I am grateful. For an independent musician who is not trying to become famous, these figures are not really about chart positions or conquering territories. They are little signs that the music has escaped. Songs that began in one room have somehow found their way into somebody else’s day thousands of miles away, and I think that is remarkable.

It is easy to become cynical about streaming. The financial returns for small independent artists are modest, and there is an enormous amount of music competing for everyone’s attention. But one thing streaming has unquestionably achieved is to remove geography as a barrier. There was a time when getting my music heard in Australia would have involved physical records, distribution, radio contacts and probably quite a lot of postage. Now somebody in Sydney can discover one of my songs almost as easily as somebody a few miles away from me.

The statistics also remind me that you can never quite predict who will respond to your music. We naturally assume our audience will be somewhere close to home, perhaps people of a similar age, in similar places, with similar musical backgrounds. Then Greenland turns up. Then Australia takes over. It makes me wonder how many other unexpected little pockets of listeners are out there.

Someone may be listening on headphones while travelling to work. Someone may have discovered a track through a playlist. Someone may hear one song and go looking for another. These are people I will almost certainly never meet, yet they have still spent three or four minutes listening to something I wrote. That is a strange and rather lovely relationship when you think about it.

And then there is Nuuk.

Where have you gone?

I am beginning to worry. Only recently I was practically preparing myself for honorary Greenlandic citizenship. Nuuk was carrying the entire operation. I wrote about its loyalty, praised its judgement and even suggested Donald Trump could only dream of achieving my level of popularity there. Now Australia has arrived and Nuuk appears to have wandered off.

Perhaps they became complacent. Perhaps they thought their position was secure. Perhaps everyone in Nuuk has finally listened to every song and decided their work is complete. I refuse to believe the relationship is over.

Nuuk will always have a special place in the history of my completely unnecessary obsession with Spotify geography. Melbourne may have overtaken it, and Sydney may now have overtaken Melbourne, but Nuuk was there before being my top city became something I expected to check. It started the whole thing.

For now, though, the trophy heads to Sydney. Melbourne remains very much involved, Brisbane is lurking at number five, and Australia as a whole is beginning to look suspiciously enthusiastic. So thank you, Sydney. Thank you, Melbourne. Thank you, Brisbane. Whoever you are and however you found the music, I appreciate every listen.

As for Nuuk, there is still time. You know what to do. And to the rest of the world, I can only point out that Australia is currently making you look rather bad.

My music is available on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon and the usual streaming services around the world. Judging by the latest figures, Australians already know this.