<p><span><span>- Melbourne's trolley-pushing, bedroom-tinkering, DIY emo-pop darling is back. Not that he's ever gone for very long - one of the things I really like about <strong>Callum Newton</strong>, the man behind the Candy project, is the frequency of his musical output. Two EPs in 2016, an album last year, and last week, the release of <em>Everything in Motion</em>. Influenced by the likes of <strong>Yuck</strong>, <strong>Ciggie Witch</strong> and <strong>Ocean Party</strong>, this record sees him ditch the bedroom in favour of a tin shed in inner-Melbourne’s Thornbury. The result is another slice of life from the eyes of Callum.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>This particular slice is on the sombre side, for the most part. Alone in his shed, Cal invites us to sit with him as he reflects on loneliness, conscience and regret. <em>Familiar</em> is inspired by a local newspaper article about a family whose experience of losing a loved one to dementia parallelled his own. It packs a punch, with painterly lyrics akin to fellow Melbournites <strong>Rat!Hammock</strong>: "<em>Hope died on the front lawn/Struck down by a thunderstorm</em>". <em>Tragedy</em> sees him muse on legacy, with a merry futility. “<em>One day you’re there/then you vanish and you’ll be forgotten”, </em>he observes over warm guitar layers; before resolving to patch up his fallings-out with friends, before things become unsalvageable.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span><em>Sorry, Sydney</em> does exactly what it promises. Callum apologises for his childish words, and his diatribe aimed at the harbour city. “<em>You were lovely in winter/ you kissed my skin!” </em>he sings, reassuringly. The track is one example of the beautiful, considered production the Candy project dons like an iron-on scout badge; its mottled keyboard motif sets it apart from its neighbours, but also blends perfectly with Callum’s other sonic experiments, dotted across the record. His love for a diverse instrumental palette remains; several tracks reap the benefits of a violin he recently taught himself to play, before deciding that autotuning the notes sounded cooler. There’s the glockenspiel-esque melody which twinkles on the back end of <em>Feel</em> like light on sea glass, and the bright, almost toy-like melody of keys on <em>Whine, Whine Falls,</em> that lends a novelty to picture of Callum sitting atop the rocks at the falls, desperate to leave as others jump into the water below. </span></span></p>
<p><span><span>Closing out the record, <em>(thornbury) </em>is a warm, meandering ode to simple contentment at the site of the album’s recording. Callum sings about the moments he pictures when he’s “down and out”: “<em>Tucked away here in Thornbury/ here with the sun on our knees, here just shooting the breeze”. </em>It reminds me of <strong>Courtney Barnett</strong>’s <em>Sunday Roast, </em>another song with really specific shorthand to a domestic life shared with someone else that manages to keep the listener included. After nine songs of frustration with the challenges of modern life and relationships, it’s incredibly pleasant to go out basking in the backyard sun, watching the bees. </span></span></p>
<p><span><span>- Aleisha McLaren.</span></span></p>
<iframe style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=1093539950/size=large/bgcol=f…; seamless><a href="http://candy-band.bandcamp.com/album/everything-in-motion">Everything In Motion by Candy</a></iframe>