Where the People Watching tour may sit as somewhat uneventful, the material promoted along the way has been staggering. Sam Fender may be subject to those who believe his music all sounds the same but, even if that is the case, it sounds a far stretch better than anything on offer in the guitar rock genre. He found a comfortable spot and, for good or ill, is going to stick with it. Those tones were inspiring on Seventeen Going Under and while they sound tonally gorgeous in the lead-up to People Watching, a few questions are starting to wriggle through. Me and The Dog, essentially a B-Side to Wild Long Lie, is not a break from the inevitable saxophone solos and rocking, upbeat guitar riffs. What may be most shocking of all is Me and the Dog is the most varied Fender song out there. Criminally underrated, or set to be, anyway.
Not because fans will neglect it but because Fender likely will. Much like Wild Grey Ocean getting the occasional outing, the Spit of You-like tone, the marks of inherited characteristics and traits run deep here but are not destined for the stage. Yes, it features what made Fender a household name, but the skilful additions made to masquerade what, at this point, is brass caricature work, are exceptional. Tremendous guitar stylings and a shift in the right direction should Fender actively pursue the tones which were presented to him by the War on Drugs-led production. No point cowering away from what is a bright and intense future sound. Whether he grasps it or not is yet to be seen, but either way, Me and The Dog provides some insight into what could have been.
People Watching appears to have been stuck with the consistencies of Seventeen Going Under, this implication that more of the same will work again, but better. More ears on the music are not the same as better work. For all the charms of Fender he is now a paint-by-numbers musician and, for those wanting a break, that particular feature of his set, the rather expectant style, is lacking here. Me and The Dog may be one of his better tracks not just because it does away with the expectations, but because it undermines them in some sweet and subtle ways. That saxophone solo is overshadowed by some complimentary guitar work while Fender spends much of the track relaying tales of genuine heartbreak. Lyrically, Fender is growing. That much is clear. Whether the instruments can keep pace is the real question.
Me and The Dog might be Fender relaying his reliance on man’s best friend, but it feels real. That is the crucial layer of anything Fender writes. One of the great and ongoing efforts of every song from Fender (excluding that strangely forgotten Chase and Status mix) has a heart to it. Some are stronger than others, but undoubtedly emotive power and a nuance to the comings and goings of everyday life, are in there. Whether he can elevate it over the crunch of some musical choices which, now, feel indifferent, is yet to be heard. Me and The Dog nails it, though. It is keeping with the sound of his previous album, that much is inevitable, but the consistency of his lyrical tone, the perspective it gives and the reliable truth found within, is remarkable.
