Very rarely does a project make you stop what you’re doing, spit out your mouthful of spritz and think “what is this?”. You think you know it but at the same time can’t tell if it’s from today, tomorrow or many yesterday’s ago. Enter Julian Munyard and his eclectic brand of kaleidoscopic pop.

The 18-year-old Sunshine Coast native creates a mood, a feeling, a distinct taste more so than just “music”. Full of sweet technicolour, dusty fingerprints and glistening melodies, his craft is reminiscent of finding the perfect piece of fruit on a hot summer’s day.

After being handed an old Haruomi Hosono record by a friend, Munyard knew right there and then what he wanted to do. Make pop music for outsiders. It all started when he began teaching himself how to use Logic at the age of 15, traversing libraries of drum samples and writing lyrics in an old leatherbound diary of his. After many a late night peppered with sample diggin’ and re-reading G.K Chesterton, Munyard started piecing together what would become his first batch of music.

First came ‘Television’ which has a delicate UK fervour to it, harnessing a 4/4 rolling beat to sound a warning about the trends of mass media and the ways they affect humans as we become passengers in the world. Heavy topic, sure, but somehow Munyard makes it seem as light as air with a sing-along anthem. Lyrics such as “I’m busy looking at the world through a hole…” signal the start of a master songwriter in the making who’d rather you dance the night away while the world goes by.

Next came ‘Treasure Chest’ which pumped the breaks slightly and introduced a more introspective side to Munyard. The electronic drum sample acts as the backbone to the poignant lyrical refrain “I cannot open your treasure chest”, which builds to the climatic saxophone solo which makes it impossible to not feel adrift on a sea of bliss. Where ‘Television’ makes you want to dance, ‘Treasure Chest’ invites a crooning midnight plea to a loved one, sensual and intriguing.

After the release of his first two singles, Munyard than set his sights on the debut EP ‘Talk in Pictures’. The 6-track EP continued to allow Munyard to explore varying genres and moods, while continuing to build the unique universe all his own.

Tracks like ‘Harley Benson’ – which is based on an imaginary character named after an old amplifier, plays on what it feels like to have no place in the world and how to live with that. With an almost softrock backdrop, Benson runs from reality and hides within himself to escape the world at large, showcasing impressive lyrical narrative building from such a young artist that can’t be ignored. While on the sunnier side, the surf-pop sounds of ‘I Wanna Go Surfing’ dealt with avoiding life at all costs and enjoy the fruits of your lack-of-labour. Fun, tongue-in-cheek and instantaneously catchy, the earworm showcases a less serious side to Munyard while still revelling in his brand of musical DNA.

Following the EP, Munyard quickly followed the release up with a brand-new single in the form of this years ‘Don’t You Love Me Yet’ which once again signalled a new musical chapter. The disco-infused piece trades earlier 70s pop for a straight dancefloor filler reminiscent of Whitest Boy Alive or Young American-era Bowie. The song struts with the inclusion of synths and bongos, culminating in a steamy number that oozes confidence. The song was served up with a video by long-time friend, Jonty Brown which sees Munyard don a very impressive suit coupled with even more impressive dance moves (selfchoreographed of course) that perfectively encapsulates the at-ease fashion of the music with a big touch of suave.

Like the hot air hitting your face as you leave LAX in the (circa 1970’s) steam, Julian Munyard’s music is sweet, sticky, and wholly enticing. Each song is a polaroid of memories and distant dreams about love, loss and outsiders who smoke too much. Like lucid dreaming, you don’t know how you got here but you’re happy to stay. It’s a colourful introduction but rest assured, the best is yet to come.