Album replay: Sam Fender gave notice five years ago that he was real deal Youthful angst and soulful ballads powered British singer’s debut
Youthful angst and soulful ballads powered British singer’s debut
Few debut albums have taken the U.K. by storm in recent years quite as much as Sam Fender’s Hypersonic Missiles. It went straight to number one on the U.K. charts and quickly became the bestselling vinyl in the U.K. for 2019. What makes this success even more astounding is that the musical chart climate he was stepping into didn’t necessarily favour his type of music. While the U.K. has a long history of falling in love with indie rockers with a lot of swagger and something to say, their influence on the charts has long since waned post 2010. In their place came a greater focus on pop-rock, with not a lot of rock but a lot of pop, exemplified by artists such as Ed Sheeran and Harry Styles. It’s music that sells and can be very good, but what it lacks is that personal swagger that sees a singer stamp their own artistic licence on the world. Instead, it feels more like music designed to go number one for a few weeks before fading into obscurity — an earworm with no staying power. Its music that’s written by committee, without a singular vision.
Yet Fender blew that all away with his debut album, which right from the get-go harkens back to an old-school rock ’n’ roll vibe with the album’s title track, Hypersonic Missiles. Beginning with a guitar riff, the track slowly builds into a wall of sound energy that explodes with a mix of guitar, drums and a saxophone solo. Fender has been dubbed the Geordie Springsteen by fans, and with this song evoking the spirit of Born to Run, it’s easy to see why, with its heavy focus on guitar and saxophone alongside Fender’s emotionally charged lyrics.
That emotion is key to what makes this album feel unique, and Fender is stepping out with his voice. Much of his emotion stems from personal reflection on his tumultuous childhood growing up in poverty-stricken North Shields, just northeast of Newcastle. The most personal song on the album is The Borders, a story about two boys growing up together before going their separate ways. Fender’s melancholic lyrics are offset by the upbeat guitar and drumbeat, which gives the song a hopeful quality despite the pain within the story. It is once again a song with a heavy dose of Springsteen influence, featuring introspective reflection on the trials of youth, conveyed so brilliantly through Fender’s lyrics that get to the heart of the anger that drove the boys apart. It’s a testament to his ability that he sings and writes every song on this album solo, and it reminds you that this is his music on his terms, with all the raw, emotionally charged songs that come with it. It’s also sign of what was to come with his next two albums (Seventeen Going Under and People Watching), which lean heavier into being a reflection on youth, with Fender continuing to write all his lyrics, bringing that irreplaceable authenticity that comes with it.
The Borders is the pinnacle of the album’s raw emotion, but its power remains throughout. Call Me Lover shifts it from a look at youth to a look at the desire to hold onto love, and while its lyrics don’t reinvent the love song, its quality comes in the defiant yet sweet tone he sings it with. You get the sense that he’s really holding onto a deeply held feeling of love that he can’t bear to let go, elevating into a moving love ballad. The subtle violin sound, alongside the booming drum chorus, is also a nice touch that lends it greater emotional weight alongside Fender’s vocals.
Alongside these more personal songs, Fender also demonstrates a penchant for incorporating social commentary into his songs. Play God acts as a critique of those in power who quite literally believe they can “play god” and the effect that has on ordinary people at their mercy. It’s a provocative track that, thanks to the lush guitar solo, gives it a great sound. Alongside Play God is White Privilege, another social commentary track that isn’t quite as strong. White Privilege attempts to cover far too much in its runtime — from Brexit to technology to the patriarchy — that it feels unfocused and like multiple songs cut into one as he airs his frustration at each topic. It’s the kind of attempt at commentary you’d expect from a debut album in which Fender is still trying things out, but it is ultimately the weakest song on the album.
As this is a rock album, some songs are intended solely for their great rock sound. Chief among them is That Sound, an energetic rock ‘n’ roll anthem with effortlessly cool vocals by Fender that give the song a Saturday-night party vibe. Will We Talk then takes that Saturday night feeling and turns the sound right up with a bouncing, unrelenting return of the wall-of-sound guitar and drums. There’s also an underlying sweetness to its story of two lovers, which showcases Fender’s range as a lyricist and singer. But just as with his social commentary, not all the rock songs land. Saturday doesn’t quite capture the rock and blues energy it aims for due to a chorus that feels lethargic and lacks the energy the song’s lyrics demand. While it still has some charm, it’s the only song on the album that feels like it’s just there to fill space and would’ve made a solid B-side back in the day.
While it has the inevitable rawness, Hypersonic Missiles is still an impressively distinct debut, with all the style and personality needed to announce Fender as a fresh new personality on the scene. In a time when the traditional singer-songwriter archetype has had mixed success on the charts, he has been one of the few British artists to break out and maintain that level of success while still staying true to an indie rock sound and building on it with his subsequent albums.
