From shame to self-forgiveness: Callum Padgham opens up on “When I Was A Little Boy”

Callum Padgham

For Melbourne-based artist Callum Padgham, music has always been a constant — whether he was mashing up punk in a touring band or commanding dancefloors as DJ Be Kind to Other People. But with his latest single, “When I Was a Little Boy”, he steps forward in a way that feels markedly different: unguarded, introspective and deeply personal.

“Writing and recording my own songs simply felt like the purest and most natural progression,” Padgham explains. It’s a deceptively simple statement for what is, in reality, a significant shift — from curator and performer of other people’s music to storyteller of his own.

That transition began with his debut single “Everything is a Blessing”, an uplifting, expansive track that hinted at optimism and clarity. But its follow-up, “When I Was a Little Boy”, turns inward — tracing a far more complex emotional landscape shaped by shame, regret and, ultimately, forgiveness.

“I wanted to highlight that I couldn’t write a song as optimistic as ‘Everything is a Blessing’ without first experiencing pain,” he says. “And I’m grateful for all of life’s experiences in shaping my perspective.”

That duality sits at the heart of the new single. Built around gentle indie-folk textures, the song unfolds like a confession — its lyrics mapping a path from childhood insecurity through adulthood missteps, before arriving at a place of self-compassion. It’s a narrative Padgham himself describes as “a story that traces all of my behaviour in life back to that of a self-conscious little boy, thereby forgiving myself for the shame I’ve accumulated along the way.”

For many artists, mining that kind of emotional terrain can be confronting. For Padgham, however, the process came with surprising ease. “As soon as I made peace with all of the above — writing and singing about these topics has come with absolute ease,” he says. “It’s been a wonderful exercise… returning to the song simply reminds me of that.”

At the centre of the track is a simple but devastating realisation: “Yeah I’m still that little boy.” It’s a line that reframes everything that comes before it — not as isolated mistakes, but as echoes of something much deeper. “Absolutely,” he says of the lyric’s significance. “My hope is that listeners can come to similar realisations about themselves, helping them along on their path of self-forgiveness.”

That clarity didn’t arrive overnight. Instead, it emerged during a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat — a period of enforced silence and introspection that would ultimately shape the song’s core.

“By day four we’d learnt a new meditation technique which seemed to unlock my deepest repressed memories,” Padgham recalls. “I remember them surfacing thick and fast, painful at first, then transmuting into relief as I observed them leaving my body. A day or so later I was blindsided by my deepest pain of all, my childhood insecurity of being ‘not enough’. In that moment, I witnessed a clear through-line tying every repressed memory together and understood, with compassion, why I’d previously acted in certain ways that I wasn’t proud of. The forgiveness was instant and embodied — it was a true watershed moment for me.”

It’s a breakthrough that continues to shape his life well beyond the retreat itself. “Night and day!” he says of the impact. “When ingrained behaviour surfaces… I recognise where it came from and smile.”

That same sense of reflection carries through into the song’s accompanying video, which pairs the performance with projections of Padgham’s own childhood photos — a visual extension of the song’s themes of memory and reconciliation.

“When it came time to create the music video, it was crucial that the viewer felt like they were being invited into my home to see this intimate side of me — and hopefully see themselves in it too.”  The process of assembling those visuals proved unexpectedly emotional.

“What started as a purely technical endeavour quickly morphed into the most accidentally nostalgic night of my life… who knew revisiting core memories from your family trip to Queensland in 1997 would awaken such raw emotion?!”

From there, the concept took shape with a tactile, almost analogue sensibility — sourcing a vintage slide projector, syncing images to the song and filming through the night in Brunswick’s Humdinger Studios alongside collaborators including Sam Darby, Pat Neff and Sabine Fritsch.

The result is a piece of work that feels as intimate as it is universal — something reflected in the response the song has already begun to generate.

“The most rewarding feedback so far has been from all kinds of people sharing with me privately how therapeutic the track’s been for them,” Padgham says. “Whether they’ve dealt with addiction, body image issues or simply a complicated relationship with shame… it’s reminded me how human and common my story is.”

That sense of shared experience — of recognising parts of yourself in someone else’s story — is ultimately what gives “When I Was a Little Boy” its weight. It’s not just a personal reckoning, but an invitation.

Still, that openness doesn’t come without its challenges — particularly when the people closest to you are hearing it for the first time. “It’s a confronting song and there was always going to be some resistance,” he admits. “All I can do is continue to share authentically and respectfully… how that’s received is beyond my control.”

For an artist who has spent years performing to crowds, there’s a different kind of courage required in a release like this — one that trades spectacle for sincerity.

“It’s the most personal artwork I’ve ever created — and for that reason, it’s also the most important,” Padgham says.  It’s perhaps no surprise, then, that he ranks the single above all else in his creative journey so far. “Releasing a song about liberating myself from shame has got to be my proudest creative moment — by definition.”

And in that sense, “When I Was a Little Boy” feels less like a follow-up single and more like a turning point — a quiet, powerful step into something more honest, more vulnerable and ultimately more human.

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Listen to “When I Was A Little Boy” from Callum Padgham wherever you stream music.

You can give Callum a follow on Bandcamp, Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, Spotify and Facebook.

Bruce Baker

Probably riding my bike, taking photos and/or at a gig. Insta: @bruce_a_baker