Exploring Masculinity 0n Sam Fender & Martin Luke Brown’s Albums
Sam Fender. Image credit: Sarah Louise Bennett
What do Martin Luke Brown and Sam Fender have in common, apart from jagged haircuts and prominent cheekbones?
Both prolific songwriters with beliefs as strong as their work ethic, they also happened to release new albums on the exact same day earlier this year.
Sam Fender shot to fame with his anthemic style, sprouting Glastonbury hits ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ and ‘Seventeen Going Under’. Martin Luke Brown has spent more of his career quietly racking up songwriting and producer credits for the likes of BTS, Lizzy McAlpine, and former bandmate Orla Gartland. While this is Fender’s first substantial release since 2021, MLB’s solo album comes fresh off a whirlwind couple of years in surrealist dream pop band FIZZ.
Each featuring 11 songs, ‘People Watching’ and ‘man oh man’ both struggle with identity, loss and change. The result is two bizarrely symmetrical albums, offering two distinct perspectives on masculinity. Down to the stylised lowercase formatting, MLB takes a quieter, more introspective route, while Fender comes in hard and, ultimately, angry.
Journey through the ‘People Watching’ tracklist as we pair each song with its ‘man oh man’ counterpart, to uncover what these accidentally twinned albums suggest, and ask, about modern masculinity.
Martin Luke Brown. Image credit - Nic Loucaides
1. People Watching / hello !
Both artists kick things off with confident statements in different directions. One observes those around him wishing he could regain their spirit, the other observes the view from a train, feeling oddly content. Both open the album grappling with a lost love, and both pen their difficulty in treading through life without them.
The contrast here is black and white, and it’s a theme that underpins both albums: MLB is trying to embrace a fresh start, whilst Fender is stuck in the bleak surroundings that mirror his mind: ‘but damn, this is what I am now, that was who I was then, I am an ever changing person’ // ‘I fear for this crippled island and the turmoil of the times’. Clearly, then, it’s safe to label Martin as the optimist of the pair.
2. Nostalgia’s Lie / back 2 ya
The second track off both albums, ‘Nostalgia’s Lie’ and ‘back 2 ya’ deal with the illusions and pitfalls of nostalgia. Fender was catapulted to ‘voice of a generation’ status after his debut album release in 2019, and MLB sustained a dizzying couple of years that saw cult-following band FIZZ form, release, tour and burn out as swiftly as a sparkler.
MLB reflects on the connections and challenges of the life he’s leaving behind, while Fender is abruptly met with fresh perspectives on an old neighbourhood. Both try to catch up to their present realities, ‘post-success’. Change and loss are pivotal throughout, although here we find some of the albums’ lightest rhythms, and the artists conclude with gratitude. It’s one of the rare moments we see a glimmer of hope for Fender: ‘with arms open wide, I won't take this world for granted’.
‘People Watching’ album cover. Image credit: Sam Fender, Polydor Records, Tish Murtha
3. Chin Up / to be a man
Here, we arrive at the critical question of both albums. MLB asks it explicitly: ‘is this what it’s like, to be a man?’ Both songs share tragic tales and heavy emotional burdens through strikingly similar lyrics: ‘my head is bent on bringing me down’ / ‘I walk around looking down with my head down low’ // ‘my friends at home are in pain / ‘I had a friend, now I don’t, he was 29’. Fender wrestles with keeping his ‘chin up’ against his belief that ‘sometimes it’s healthier to wallow in it’.
On the flip side, MLB surrenders to his vulnerability, in the almost-whispered ‘won’t someone hold my hand?’ The production is chalk and cheese. Fender’s front is loud, stoic and brash, perhaps lacking a softer vocal. In ‘to be a man’, gentle guitar strums over a haunting, heavy bassline, and this makes it all the more gut-wrenching.
While ‘Chin Up’ is the third track, ‘to be a man’ is ‘man oh man's penultimate statement. Perhaps MLB has begun to answer what modern masculinity is, or what it should be, while Fender is still trying to articulate the question.
“Perhaps MLB has begun to answer what modern masculinity is, or what it should be, while Fender is still trying to articulate the question.”
Martin Luke Brown. Photo credit: Nic Loucaides
4. Wild Long Lie / chew U UP
Fender’s second single off ‘People Watching’, ‘Wild Long Lie,’ is a six-minute deep-dive into status-chasing, powder-induced escapism. The song crescendos into a rich sax solo entwined with distorted synths that encompass the longing, regret and self-loathing felt after an overly indulgent night on the tiles.
‘chew U UP’ is a pocket-sized version on the same unsatisfying cycles. The production is extremely slick, with jazz influences distinguishable in MLB’s take. It’s a clever contrast with the unravelling both describe. But perhaps in this case, Fender’s maximalist approach does a better job of reflecting the inner turmoil and its impact.
5. Arm’s Length / good god you’ve gotta try
Is a one-night stand all that bad? Can we enjoy fleeting connections for what they are, or do we need a deeper understanding of each other? This is the topic explored in ‘Arm’s Length.’ Fender dances with the question ‘do you have to know me… inside out, to have a good time?’, asking it so many times that in the end, it’s clear this is not rhetorical – he’s really trying to figure it out himself.
Likewise, MLB toys with the serious-but-maybe-not-that-serious idea of connecting with someone new. In ‘Arm’s Length’, the jury is still out. But MLB’s final track on ‘man oh man’ is a total relinquishing of control. Far from ‘arm’s length’, it’s an arms out approach to the future.
Sam Fender, O2 Arena. Image credit: Niall Lea
6. Crumbling Empire / animal
‘Crumbling Empire’ and ‘animal’ tackle political disillusionment, both carried by a steady, pulsating beat. Fender chooses to focus on the dire situations around him carried over from the past, while MLB idealises his fantasy life in the future, free from money and materialism.
Both express their discomfort with the way things are, but both feel helpless to change it, with more remarkably similar lyric patterns: ‘I’m not preaching, I’m just talking’ / ‘I am not incredible, I’m just an animal’. Fender eyes things up from above, whilst MLB is stuck in the middle. But with no solution or conclusion provided from either, where does this leave a generation of young men?
7. Little Bit Closer / say less !
Frustration boils again. ‘Little Bit Closer’ depicts an inability to connect with religion, society or politics, through a soaring, orchestral-esque approach. In ‘say less !’ MLB paints a picture of satisfaction, despite bubbling semantics of isolation and stress.
Disconnected and in limbo, both claim solace and peace in their love. But over the piercing snare drums and heavy-handed instrumentation, it’s reasonable to assume that more is concealed. There’s a real yearning for understanding here, but a tangible struggle to find it.
Sam Fender, Boardmasters. Image credit: Raph_PH
8. Rein Me In / losing me (interlude)
Both artists try to navigate the pain of loss, alongside the rhetoric of not feeling good enough, for the past or the future. MLB cautiously admits not knowing how to love his partner without losing himself, but for Fender, the feeling has come after the separation. ‘Sometimes it’s easier to throw away your love, instead of accepting its defeat’ is dealt like a spent bullet in ‘Rein Me In’.
It’s one of the most memorable songs across both albums, perhaps for the guttural guilt that pours through the bridge. The altered line ‘telling everybody but you how much I fucked it up’ is delivered with such visceral regret that it begs the listener for sympathy.
The catharsis that follows it is missing from MLB. Albeit an interlude, ‘losing me’ skims the surface of the loss Fender desperately tries to grasp onto in his spiralling outro.
Sam Fender, St. James Park. Image credit: Niall Lea
9. TV Dinners / care (interlude)
The tension’s been building, both on Fender’s album and between the two, and here it erupts. ‘TV Dinners’ delivers a scathing attack on the music industry, while MLB dedicates 90 seconds to a meditative instrumental titled ‘care’.
It’s there to force a pause on the listener, a moment of grounding amongst a turbulent tangle of knotted feelings. Fender’s alternative is to whip his up into a menacing tirade. Where his anger dissolves in a pool of its own acidity, MLB’s troubles are given space to breathe.
10. Something Heavy / this is me now
Fender & MLB both know how to turn heartbreaking lyrics into ear-candy. On first, distracted listen, ‘this is me now’ sounds like a whimsical hum-along, while ‘Something Heavy’ has a jovial old-rock feel. Both contemplate the poor mental health and coping mechanisms of themselves and their peers: ‘Drinking anything as a pre-emptive strike, God, she's full of pain and I know it’ / ‘And it’s building it’s bubbling, and I’m tired of numbing it and I’m scared that I’m fucking it’.
Both do however pull out the sentiment that we’re all just doing our best, and we do that by coming together. It’s nice to picture the two artists in direct conversation across these songs. As MLB pleads ‘well we all wanna be loved, so somebody give me a hug, tell me that I am enough’, he’s met with ‘so call me if you're down, I'll help you come around’.
‘man oh man’ album cover. Image credit: Nic Loucaides
11. Remember My Name / this love’s gonna go nowhere
The closing track of ‘People Watching’ pairs beautifully with ‘this love’s gonna go nowhere’. The first is a touching tribute from the perspective of Fender’s grandfather. The second is a sweet farewell to a loved one, providing the closure desperately needed in both albums.
The two songs are a soothing ode to grief. The final line of Fender’s album, ‘and I pray you remember my name’, sung like an open wound crying out for a bandage, is answered sincerely by MLB: ‘on my heavy, heavy heart you will rest, just like a prayer… this love’s gonna go nowhere’. Like one hand over another, perhaps these lyrics can provide comfort that those who’ve said farewell to a love need not worry that they’ve lost it.
Sam Fender, Splendour In The Grass. Image credit: author’s own.
Sam Fender & MLB: Complementary Forces Of Modern Music & Masculinity
It’s no wonder that ‘People Watching’ and ‘man oh man’ cover so much of the same ground. Written by two musicians who grew up and forged careers in the same industry and political environment, their albums describe the experiences and reflections of a generation of men.
But what separates one from the other? Fender approaches his album from a much harsher, jaded place, while MLB offers a softer interpretation. Where this can lead MLB into retreat at times, his counterpart springs into action with confident, full-throttle emotion.
“The concept of masculinity is in the hot seat right now, and young men are looking for examples of ‘how to be a man’. If we can learn something from these two artists, it’s the importance of connection and balance.”
And why does this matter? Because the concept of masculinity is in the hot seat right now, and young men are looking for examples of ‘how to be a man’.
If we can learn something from these two, it’s the importance of connection and balance. Embracing vulnerability and anger without being consumed by either is just as important as finding the strength to have hope.
Stream ‘People Watching’ and ‘man oh man’ on all platforms now.