Sam Fender – People Watching

Heartland Rock | Indie Rock

86%

 

People Watching isn’t the album I wanted from Sam Fender, but it forms a neat trend alongside his first two records. When I think of him my mind first goes to his anthemic, singalong crowd pleasers. An earworm melody, moments that you want to belt out at the top of your lungs, probably a sax solo thrown in for good measure, you know the sort. Something that can trace it’s lineage straight back to ‘Born To Run’. Hypersonic Missiles was half full of moments like these, and part of me will continue holding out for a record that’s just wall to wall bangers, but in truth these moments have become increasingly infrequent ever since his debut. Seventeen Going Under had a couple, but this latest effort only really has the one: its soaring title track, which feels like The Killers imbued with a little E Street Band and a hearty dose of ‘Boys of Summer’. The rest of the record never again quite reaches this same anthemic high. 

Despite this, People Watching is easily Sam’s best body of work to date. Partly because it doesn’t need the big singles in the same way. His songwriting has become much stronger and more consistent over the past few years, and that rising tide lifts all tracks equally, to the point where it’s hard to find any filler wherein the record starts to lag. It’s also because the album feels like it’s making a conscious step away from that sound. Returning to a Killers comparison, in many ways the album this one most reminds me of is Pressure Machine. It saw the Vegas band eschew their usual glitz and glamour, instead turning their talents towards curating a more stripped back Americana sound. A concept album full of various vignettes of small town life, telling the stories of people just barely getting by, it’s the least “Killers sounding” album in their catalogue – but it just might be their best. Now, if anyone can capture the plight of people stuck in a dead end town, and barely hanging on to the hope of brighter days, it’s the most outspoken working class voice in UK music. 

Though the record will occasionally take a more big picture view of the sorry state of the nation (“I fear for this crippled island and the turmoil of the times” on the title track), for the most part it splits its attention between Sam’s own experience being one of the lucky few to get out, and stories of people still trapped in the world he left behind. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s in the latter where his lyrics provide the most raw, scathing and relatable commentary. Elderly loved ones forced to choose between life in care homes gutted by austerity (“the place was falling to bits, understaffed and overruled by callous hands“) or freezing alone in their own homes (“can’t heat the place for fucking love nor money” on ‘Chin Up’). The aptly named ‘Crumbling Empire’ discussing the managed decline of left behind communities, and how you can do everything right and still wind up with nothing thanks to the powers that be (“My mother delivered most the kids in this town, My step-dad drove in a tank for the crown, They left them homeless, down and out“). 

By far Sam’s most moving lyricism is when he commits whole-heartedly to character study on the closing track ‘Remember My Name’. Written from the perspective of his grandad, trying to coax a reaction out of Sam’s grandma as dementia slowly claims her, it’s a haunting story of love persisting in the face of adversity. Sam’s elegiac delivery honours their memory while the exquisite backing of the Easington Colliery Band adds a sense of solidarity and community, like folks coming together to share stories at a wake. I wonder what the record would have been like had Sam afforded more scope to stories like this, but for People Watching he makes a conscious effort to have just the one foot rooted in where he came from. Much of his more introspective writing focuses on the guilt and sense of disconnect that comes with finding success and leaving much of your old life behind. Wondering to what degree he’s still a part of the community that raised him (“for all I’ve gained there’s something lost” on ‘Nostalgia’s Lie’) and dwelling on the good fortune that shaped his journey (“I don’t wear the shoes I used to walk in, but I can’t help thinking where they’d take me“).

Lyrics are only half the story however, and to my mind the arrangements are where Sam has made the most progress. Getting Adam Granduciel to co-produce is a match made in heaven; a tasteful helping of The War On Drugs’ dreamy expansive sound is just the icing on the cake. ‘Wild Long Lie’ builds from folky beginnings into a shimmering sprawl of synths, before concluding with the guitar and the sax trading the spotlight with a pair of gorgeous solos. ‘Chin Up’ and ‘Little Bit Closer’ both play host to some elegant and uplifting string arrangements, and while the refrain on ‘Arm’s Length’ should start feeling repetitive, it gorgeous melody and the way Sam harmonises with the backing vocals is just too good not to milk for all it’s worth. The bittersweet Paper Kites vibes of ‘Crumbling Empire’ feels like a slow dance at the end of world, with a vibrant, life-affirming outro that fades out all too soon to echo the song’s themes of societal decline. 

While I’ve always liked Sam Fender’s work, I found myself liking him more for what he represented. With austerity and privatisation grinding down the nation more than ever, and right wing media smothering any genuine discourse around how a better world is possible, one consequence we’re seeing is that music is increasingly becoming a pursuit of the rich and connected. Part of the reason Sam’s music has resonated with so many is that he’s not only a glaring exception to that trend, but willing to speak out about how rigged the system is and give a voice to communities who’ve been neglected and downtrodden. I didn’t think either of his first two releases were album of the year material, but I was ready to rave as if they were just for acclaim to go to someone who deserved it. This time is different. Not only is what Sam saying more important than ever, but this time he’s released one of the best records we’ll see in 2025 to back it up.