The title track of “Hypersonic Missiles” is also the first track on the album, and it has a lot of people wanting to make Sam Fender out to be the new Bruce Springsteen.
You can see why, too.
There’s a bit where the saxophone kicks in and if you closed your eyes, it could be Clarence Clemons playing. But then, just like The Boss once said that “we made a change uptown and the Big Man joined the band”. Each generation needs its own singer/songwriter, not someone else’s.
The youth have got theirs, right here.
Which is why you can take your lazy Springsteen comparisons and stick them, with the greatest respect, where the sun doesn’t shine, because Sam Fender and the boys in the band, have got much more important things to do.
To return to “…Missiles” for a second, the way it broods, builds, and illuminates the disconnection of the working-class youth, it feels like more than an opening song, it feels like a statement. “They say I am a nihilist, cos I can’t see, any decent rhyme or reason for the life of you and me…..” and that, right there, is how its done.
“The Borders” is genuinely harrowing, but set over a dark, almost post-punk soundscape, and for all that Fender is a product of his time, he is clever and everyone knows their rock history here. There is a touch of the Brian Fallon’s, in truth.
Best of all these is “White Privilege”. Original delivery, and somehow, the poetry taps into the frustration, “my generation was duped, left out of the loop” before taking a vicious swipe at celebrity culture.
It is striking just how epic the intent here is. “Dead Boys” even recalls Jeff Buckley, and scores bonus points for using the word “Centrifugal” in what is going to be the number one record, and “You Are Not The Only One” has a real polished feel – not to mention more sax from Johnny “Bluehat” Davis.
Although the record carries his name, there is a real band feel here, and there’s a bluesy, kind of Black Keys-ish feel to “Play God” (apparently if you play Fifa you’ll know this one?) and when it looks back to a more synth driven sound on “That Sound” it makes that seem effortless too.
“Saturday” is, on the surface at least, more laid back. Then you listen to the lyrics. “Shall We Talk” has the energy of rock n roll, together with the claustrophobic feel that you might actually be listening to someone’s diaries on audiobook – but the strings show a real maturity about this work.
I haven’t seen Sam Fender live yet, but a friend of mine did and spoke enthusiastically about the way he played a few solo acoustic. He has a way of writing songs that lends itself to that. “Two People” is probably the pick, but although “Call Me Lover” has a bigger, almost pop sound, it could just as easily strip down.
Earlier I wrote that “the youth had their voice, right here” and if you still need proof, then with “Leave Fast” I rest my case. The seething, burning desire to escape – this is rooted in South Shields, but it could be anywhere – means one thing. It means that if you grew up in the 80s and wanted something to reflect your life, you had Billy Bragg. Then you hit your mid-30s and you had Frank Turner, if you are 18, and you need a hero, Sam Fender is your boy.
At some point he’s going to write an absolute classic. “Hypersonic Missiles” isn’t quite there yet, but it’s a hell of a warning shot.
Rating 8.5/10
