On 15 October, Sam Fender gained his second number 1 in the UK Official Albums chart for his fantastic new record Seventeen Going Under. Outselling the rest of the top 10 combined, it further confirmed the acclaim many of us had been granting him the week prior.
Soon after the album’s release a week before, I wrote a review on my Blinded by the Floodlights blog, commenting that ‘Seventeen Going Under’ has Sam Fender fulfil his potential in an album of the year contender. With such an obsession garnered in such a short period of time, and more being unpacked than first met the eye, I wanted to further explore some of the themes on the album.
What have we learned about Sam Fender through his second record? Quite a lot actually. Now where to start…
It’s an autobiography of his tough ascent into adulthood
Hailing from North Shields, it’s clear that the road to success hasn’t exactly been an easy one for the 27-year-old North East singer. In a 2019 interview-turned-therapy session with the Independent’s Ellie Harrison, he colourfully confessed that only a couple of years earlier he’d been “on the dole in my mum’s council estate flat in Chirton, f***ing scratching my nuts watching Jeremy Kyle”. He’d go on to touch upon the poverty both him and his mother suffered in the years before his breakthrough.
Following the success of debut Hypersonic Missiles in 2019, which touched upon a number of societal and political issues, Fender now felt comfortable enough to alter his lyrical output focus. Forced to shield during lockdown due to a non-disclosed health condition, he reflected on his life to date and strove to write more introspectively. Thanks to recent lockdown therapy sessions, certain memories from the past decade began to spring out and he wrote title track ‘Seventeen Going Under’ as a result of such reflection.
The track debuted on Annie Mac’s Radio 1 Show on 8 July 2021 and powerfully told the existence of Sam as a 17-year-old growing up in the North East. He uncovered the anger issues that blighted him in the wake of bullying (“I was far too scared to hit him / but I’d hit him in a heartbeat now / that’s the thing with anger, it begs to stick around”), as well as the anxiety issues simmering underneath his joker persona (“Spiralling in silence / And I armed myself with a grin”).
His mother’s illness (she suffers from fibromyalgia) and subsequent employment problems were another source of frustration that still affect him. “I see my mother, the DWP see a number, she cries on the floor encumbered” recalled Sam in one particularly difficult memory. Through the song, he describes how he often thought about selling drugs to make money for him and his mother in what was a troubling period for the two of them.
Second track ‘Getting Started’ follows both in track number and lyrical theme, Sam feeling completely overwhelmed by his mother’s illness and employment problems (“I came home and you were on the floor / Floored by the letters and the council”.
He unveils the mistakes he’s made as he looks for an escape from his home issues (“eighteen, failed dream / attracted to a bad scene”) and that desire to just be a teenager rather than grow up too fast. Thankfully, he never fully committed to a life of crime and instead put his attention into music. It’s a choice very much paying off, but Sam’s very aware of how different life could be had he gone the other way.
He feels completely alienated by politics
In a recent interview with The Guardian, Sam spoke about how the term “leftie” is now a slur in the working class community before lamenting his lack of identity with politicians on either side of the political divide. Sam continued by saying, “the left wing have abandoned the working classes…” before later throwing scorn on the other side of the divide too, “but I hate the Tories with a passion.”
Such disillusionment comes through perfectly on ‘Aye’. It’s the second preview single for the record and amongst the angriest and punkiest he’s ever produced. He begins by taking aim at the controlling elite (“they don’t act up for the camera / They just sit back and command them / And collect and deflect and abandon”) and lists some of the horrible things allowed to happen on their watch (“They watched Jackie pick up Kennedy’s head / They watched kids go to Epstein’s bed”.
In the chorus he bemoans that the “poor, hate the poor”, and the fact that the working classes are becoming increasingly divided. They blame the other political side for society’s downfalls rather than the real enemy (the elite). Sick of such polarisation, he even sings that “the woke kids are just d***heads” for having a superiority complex and dividing the working classes even further. By the end of the song, Sam expresses a rejection of the “very few” and his complete alienation with political labels altogether. It’s powerful stuff and one bound to ruffle some feathers!
‘Long Way Off’ sounds like a cinematic, Bond-theme and further confirms his political rejection. He uncovers the gaping divide between both sides of the political divide and how far away we are from healing such wounds in the wake of Brexit.
The chorus lines of “All the endless grey conundrums that are painted black and white / I heard a hundred million voices sound the same both left and right” reveals his frustration perfectly. In his eyes, complex political questions are often oversimplified, with people dividing themselves into camps and doubling down their opinions rather than seeking to understand the other side’s point of view.
He’s plagued with self-esteem issues
Continuing the self-reflection of the title track, ‘Get You Down’ is one the most personal tracks on the album. It unveils the self-esteem issues he’s often bogged down by and describes how, in the past, he has projected his own feelings of disdain for himself onto his partners (“I watch you sleep / With eyes of contempt / Those eyes were meant for myself”). This eventually leads to the demise of such relationships.
Recognising his own toxic behaviour in therapy, it’s another topic he felt important enough to discuss in his path for self-discovery. Looking back, he describes himself as “pathetic little boy” who ruined relationships due to his own insecurities.
In one of the most underrated tracks on the album, ‘Last to Make It Home’ again uncovers some of these issues and the self-criticism that can often plague him (“Though I am a soundboard to some / With myself I am not so forgiving”).
Sam has often spoken about his imposter syndrome and how his self-esteem issues have affected him over the years, even more so in the past couple of years as he’s gained a level of success he doesn’t feel he deserves.
There’s still love and hope to be found
On John Kennedy’s X-Posure show on Radio X, Sam Fender described ‘Spit Of You’ as a “declaration of love” for his old man “…cause I love him to bits”.
He reveals the similarities between father and son, both in actions, behaviours and their inability to deal with their emotions. In recognising this, he’s learned to be more empathetic towards his father. In the song, he describes how watching his dad display emotion and vulnerability at the final stages of his grandmother’s life portrayed a side he hadn’t seen before. With his father kissing his grandmothers head to say goodbye, it dawned on him that one day that would be him doing the same to his old man.
This sadness brought him closer to his dad and forced him put any past squabbles behind them. This then led to the healing of a fractured relationship and an understanding that life’s too short for such anger and bitterness.
‘The Dying Light’ is a piano ballad to end the album on a perfect note. Despite the anger, anxiety and vulnerability placed elsewhere, the final track allows us to depart on a more hopeful note. It’s a sequel to 2018 single ‘Dead Boys’, a song which spoke of the issue of suicide amongst young males and the stigma surrounding depression and mental health with that demographic.
The first half of the song speaks about that feeling of loneliness and being “out of bright ideas to keep the hell at bay / distractions only last a day”. However, Sam wants to provide hope and understanding to those in this position. Instead there’s an overcoming perspective and the need to “repeal the dying light / for Mam and Dad and all my pals / For all the ones who didn’t make the night”.
Sam then brings the full band in for a euphoric final minute and a half as we wipe away the tears and depart feeling warm and fuzzy. It’s a beautiful moment and you pray it can have impact on those affected by such issues.
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Over its 45-minute runtime, we learn so much about Sam Fender’s struggles over the past decade, from family issues to poverty to his own anxieties and anger.
His own political alienation confessions are also refreshing to hear in a polarised world where it’s so easy to berate those who possess different outlooks. Instead, he looks at things from a working class perspective and the damage caused by such division to his community.
The album may appear bleak in many parts, but such moments will instantly strike a chord with so many who feel alienated, confused and self-critical. We learn so much about Sam Fender’s character and upbringing through this record and it really gives us food for thought on so many issues.
Words by Matthew McLister of Blinded by the Floodlights