In an era where lyrics often reach out for entire cinematic universes, the Australian artist Francis Allen of Foreign Television chooses the road less taken and yet lands more directly at the heart. His newest single, “Vending Machine,” is the third peek into his upcoming third album, and it’s as quietly powerful as anything he’s put out yet. “Vending Machine” is true to the form that has become a trademark of Allen’s songs, not trying to be impressive in its grandiosity. It slides by with a soft subtlety that will pay dividends for close listening.
Instead of painting pictures, Allen provides snapshots of feeling small, universal moments that seem to belong to anyone. The song brings up the thought and lets it sit there in your chest, long after the last note has vanished. The feature that shines most in “Vending Machine” is Allen’s devastating lightness of touch. There’s no lyrical overindulgence here. He leaves space deliberately for the listener to project their own memories and meanings onto the frame. Like a fleeting look between strangers or the smell of something familiar carried on the wind, it captures something deeply human without being easily expressible. It’s a slow burn, melancholic and atmospheric in that uniquely Foreign Television way.
The production vibrates, dragging slowly along with the song’s vocals, a lazy conversation you kicked past bedtime. There is a certain stillness to the track, as though you were watching an old vending machine give off a quiet glow in one of those dull corridors. As anticipation mounts for the full album, “Vending Machine” gives a compelling taste of a fully formed statement that’s not trying to top itself, but engages you to lean in for something softer, more intimate, more undeniably real. Francis Allen is here to remind you that you already have a story. And if this single is anything to judge by, Foreign Television’s third album is going to be one worth sitting still for.