NEW YORK (AP) — As its title “People Watching” suggests, Sam Fender spends the bulk of his third studio album putting his observations about others — their histories, their futures, their troubles, their hopes — to music. The concept is simple. The results are anything but.
Written by the English singer-songwriter over two years, the album’s 11 pop-rock tracks reveal a tender, strong-willed and observant lyricist. They also show off Fender’s skills as a musician and co-producer, capable of tying together instrumental threads into rich productions that enliven his stories. None of that is news to his fans, who have already sold-out tour dates ahead of the album’s release.
Like the best of his previous releases, the project’s titular opening track is anthemic and robust. Its Springsteen-style makes you want to move, or at least, shout along with Fender. That energy is achieved through a fast-paced and meticulously arranged production: Guitar and piano are layered over strings. Metallic cymbals punctuate the chorus, cut by a saxophone solo. The drumbeat is steady but quick, standing in for Fender’s racing heart. “I can’t stop running,” he sings, “I see the whole town fall.”
That town, his home of North Shields, England, serves as inspiration throughout the album.
On “Crumbling Empire,” atop grooving electric guitar, Fender appears to describe his family and the systems they were failed by: “My mother delivered most of the kids in this town / My stepdad drove in a tank for the crown,” before summarizing his album in a few lines: “I don’t wear the shoes I used to walk in / But I can’t help but thinking where they’d take me / In this crumbling empire.”
He speaks of specific struggles, but his observations are built upon the understanding that pain is always universal. On “Something Heavy,” he offers reprieve: “Everybody here’s got, something heavy / I’ll shoulder it a while if you just want a night off.”
The album closes with “Remember My Name,” a tribute to Fender’s late grandparents. It is written from the perspective of his grandfather as he cared for Fender’s grandmother, who had dementia. Absent the upbeat guitars and drum beats that accompany much of the album, Fender’s vocals are strikingly crisp. Featured instead is the muffled, nostalgic sound of horns, performed by Northeast England’s Easington Colliery Band.
The song’s chorus is tight but powerful. “Humor me / make my day / I’ll tell you stories / kiss your face / and I’ll pray / you’ll remember / my name,” Fender sings as his grandfather, his voice soaring with aching emotion. Closer to his roots here than anywhere else on the album, his people watching is complete.
