Been sitting with Fearless for a few days now. Still not sure where I fully land on it—but that says a lot, because most songs don’t keep me thinking this long.
On the surface, it hits hard. The breakdowns are clean, the transitions feel tight, and the whole thing is built with intention. You can tell they know what they’re doing sonically. But right when the vocals come in, I had that moment of “ah… here we go again”. The autotune is front and center—polished to the point where it feels like it’s holding something back.
But then I listened closer.
“Terrorised, I’m a long way from you now / Paralysed, just another day screaming out…”
This isn’t some power anthem—it’s someone unraveling and trying to find ground. That word “fearless” gets chanted like a war cry, but it doesn’t land like confidence. It lands like someone begging to believe it. And that changes the whole lens for me.
You get to the chorus and it just guts you:
“I can’t bury my head under the sand and hope it makes me feel less… / I can’t lie to myself, it fucks with my health / I just want to be fearless.”
That’s not staged. That’s real. That’s the kind of line you write when you’ve been lying to yourself for way too long and it’s starting to bleed out. It’s the moment where the emotional dam cracks.
And now, the autotune? It sounds more like armor. It’s not there to polish—it’s there to hide. It’s another mask, layered over a voice that maybe isn’t ready to be fully heard. Maybe being fearless isn’t about yelling into the mic—it’s about saying it at all, even if it’s behind a filter.
The video doubles down on all of this. The unmasking moment has been hyped since their first drop, and when it happens, it doesn’t feel triumphant. It feels… unresolved. Loudwire called it out—fans aren’t sure if it’s really him, or just another trick. That’s what made it stick with me. It wasn’t clean, and maybe it wasn’t supposed to be. That’s kind of the point: you think you’re getting truth, but it still might not be the whole thing.
Then verse two comes in swinging with:
“You destroyed every piece of me I ever loved / But you never noticed.”
That’s a line you feel if you’ve ever been gutted by someone who moved on like nothing happened. The whole second half of the track rides that energy—anger, betrayal, trying to find some footing in the middle of it.
By the time it circles back to:
“Guess I’ll have to wait my turn / Forgiveness is a strength I’m yet to learn…”
—it doesn’t feel like defeat. It feels like someone staring down the long road to healing, not sure they’ll make it, but starting to walk anyway.
So yeah—I still don’t love the vocal processing. I’d rather hear the cracks, the grit, the moments where the voice doesn’t quite hold. But now I see why it’s there. He’s not singing from the other side of fear—he’s still in it. That’s what makes it feel real.
This track isn’t about being fearless. It’s about wanting to be. Trying to be. Failing sometimes. Saying it out loud anyway.
That honesty? That’s what stuck with me.
