In his third project, Sam Fender takes his listeners to uncharted depths of existentialism and shows the beauty of having friends to fall back on. “People Watching” is a love letter to Fender’s home, but more specifically the people his heart could never leave behind. It has a thought-provoking message that resonates with listeners of all ages and walks of life. Fender tells story after story about feeling stuck and hopeless, sometimes centered around him, sometimes around the kid down the street. Nevertheless, the anthems of “People Watching” showcase Fender’s vulnerability to the masses.
The title track, “People Watching,” is a proper opener to the record, setting the stage for the overall theme of finding connection in a world of solidarity. The song references an intense time in Fender’s life when he was stuck in a place of sorrow and question. One of his friends was suffering from a serious illness, and Fender stuck it out with her until her final days. On his many walks back home from the care home, he would look at the people passing and wonder about what was happening in their lives; this took his mind off the situation and ultimately contributed to his storytelling across the record. This track was the first single released to give listeners a small taste of what was to come.
The strong melodies and raw lyricism of “Nostalgia’s Lie” shares Fender’s reflection on his early life and the naivety of childhood. He sings, “Spinning and laughing… was it ever what I thought it truly was?”
In “Chin Up,” Fender focuses on the validity of his own struggles compared to those of his friends. He says it is “no time to victimize [himself]” when his friends are back home struggling with addiction and making ends meet: “My friends at home are in pain… chucky debt, God, I hate cocaine.”
It is no secret that Fender loves symbolism. He often writes about the faults of society and authority’s broken promises. In the folkier, acoustic-driven “Wild Long Lie,” Sam sings about the romanticization of overindulgence. Adam Granducei, the frontman of The War on Drugs, produced this album with Fender. The name of the band references the unrest caused under the Reagan administration in the ‘80s that led to mass incarceration. This theme was raised in the track “Crumbling Empire,” which blames the government for not taking care of its people.
He tells stories of his mother, a nurse who did so much for her community but was left helpless by her government after she lost her ability to work. Fender emphasizes, “I’m not preaching … I’m just talking.” He tells his listeners exactly how it is, and he often reflects on how his life would have turned out if not for his immense success over the years.
“Arm’s Length,” a vulnerable, avoidant track, highlights Fender’s tender songwriting: “Do you have to know me, know me inside out to have a good time?” The track begs for the listener’s attention with its slower pace and its touching simplicity.
“Little Bit Closer” is Fender’s battle with religion and deity. Growing up, Fender learned to root his foundation in empathy instead of religious doctrine, something he never found to serve him. The lyric “But, in love, there’s something to hold, and I get a little bit closer to it” references spirituality through his painstaking vocals.
An acknowledgment of his relationship troubles, “Rein Me In” draws from Fender’s haunted soul with a catchy tune. It is yet another track that shows his appreciation for horned instruments.
“TV Dinner” is the synthy, harsh glimpse into the world of the music industry that exploits its artists. Fender is assertive and blunt: “No one gets into my space … Am I up to this?” He calls out the industry and the press for how they portrayed Amy Winehouse back when she was struggling with abuse and addiction. “Like Winehouse, she was just a bairn … They love her now but bled her then.”
Love songs like “Something Heavy” give relief on the often heavy record. He sings, “Everybody here’s got something heavy … I’ll shoulder it a while if you just want a night off.” Even in periods of crippling mental health, Fender finds encouragement in his loved ones and vice versa: “So many good people falling victim to the dog, so call me if you’re down, I’ll help you come around … The kettle on the boil until it’s sorted out.”
To close the record, Fender sings a devastating ode to his grandparents, and the track is like no other across his discography. Vocally, he sends chills up and down the spines of his listeners. Lyrically, he brings tears to their eyes. The orchestral production is comparable to nothing that his fans have heard from him before. “Remember My Name” is written about his grandmother’s deteriorating memory and reflects on the beautiful life she gave to others. All of it is told from the perspective of his grandfather: “Humor me, make my day. I’ll tell you stories, kiss your face. And I’ll pray you’ll remember my name.” The touching, soaring melodies of this song make you want to hold onto your loved ones just a little bit tighter.
“People Watching” is raw, creative, expansive and enlightening, and it can be streamed on all services and platforms. Fender released tour dates for the United States, but unfortunately, they do not include any East Coast shows for the time being. He is also playing a string of shows across Europe and the United Kingdom this summer, including three sold-out shows at St. James Park in Newcastle.