VULNERABLE AND BEAUTIFUL: SAM FENDER’S PEOPLE WATCHING
Sam Fender has been writing incredible social and mental commentary since the Dead Boys release, and new record People Watching shows Fender’s growth in both his musical and writing abilities as well as his refreshing vulnerability. I fully immersed myself in a solo listening party for the new album, which I truly recommend, and found myself going from dancing to shedding a tear in the span of a few guitar solos.
The title track ‘People Watching’ was an instant classic as soon as it hit the charts. It’s a heart-wrenching yet danceable tune that is everything we love about Fender and the boys. ‘Nostalgia’s Lie’ is where the new, slower sound starts to seep in; a homage to the pain and beauty of nostalgia, a theme throughout the album and Sam’s discography. An almost Cranberries-inspired guitar underlays the gorgeous vocals of new band member Brooke Bentham. Brooke’s ad-libs and harmonies add an entire contemporary dimension to the album; they’ve stepped up the band in a way you didn’t know was possible.
Next tracks ‘Chin Up’ and ‘Wild Long Lie’ have you questioning how someone writes like this, how do you perfectly walk the tightrope between romanticising ugly subjects and crying out beautifully? As Newcastle’s answer to Bruce, the influence of Springsteen is still as evident as ever (could say this album is possibly Fender’s river, a few slower tunes with some high energy power tracks too). One of my favourite lines from the record features in ‘Chin Up’: “chin up I’m dancing to the rhythm of it/ sometimes it’s healthier to wallow in it”.
‘Something Heavy’, ‘Crumbling Empire’ and ‘Arm’s Length’ are the tunes I’ve found myself singing the most – there is something in them that you can’t leave behind, an indescribable feeling. It could most definitely be Brooke’s vocals again, but Sam’s own are also so smooth here, though they still have their signature gravel. Every layer builds so naturally in these tunes and although lyrics are often repeated, they’re not boring and repetitive.
‘Little Bit Closer’ (the top track if you want a song about religion, sexuality and Otzi the Iceman) and ‘Rein Me In’ specifically showcase Sam’s unique but impeccable lyrical timing, as well as establish his tone. At this point in the record, you realise that Sam and the band have built a tonal legacy, like Wunderhorse and Fontaines DC are beginning to do. You know it’s a Fender song when you hear it, whether it’s because of the guitar tone, Dylan-esque harmonica or iconic Johnny Blue Hat saxophone.
The final two songs are something to write home about. ‘TV Dinner’ is another example of Sam’s forever on point and relatable social commentary, that reminds me a lot of his ‘Sad But True’ Metallica cover from a while back – it made me ask important questions such as where on Earth is this man’s shot at a James Bond song? Give him the chance, you cowards. I have little to say about ‘Remember My Name’, but not because it was rubbish, quite the opposite. It can be a hard (but still beautiful) listen for many in that it hits too close to home. This one I can’t actually talk about without crying, so I guess you’ll just have to listen to the album yourself.
It’s important to remember that new albums don’t necessarily have to beat an artist’s last; it’s all a massive journey they’re on and we get the privilege to listen along. As pedantic and frankly sickening as that sentiment is, it is true. Fender really takes his past to bring him forward in this record, whether that’s in anecdotes, inspirations or sound. People Watching has great riffs, stuck to you like velcro lyrics and a more stripped back feeling then we’ve had from him so far. Sam Fender and his band (and his local pub) deserve the Brit awards they’re up for, for delivering up a whole, intensely honest and ethereal record.
10/10
