A song thanking fans for the thrill of stage performance would be stronger had Sam Fender not charged £80 a head and then cancelled a homecoming show. The local hero remains a stunning musician, detailing an openness and heartwarming sincerity which makes him a hit with fans. He has earned the chance to perform on stages across the globe, and the suddenness of success, the thrill of being close to the top of his respective genre selections, is not lost on the Hypersonic Missiles songwriter. I’m Always on Stage has Fender consider where he is, where he came from, and what he intends to do now that he has reached a peak of stardom few will ever achieve. It feels inevitable given the material People Watching is made of, but it does not negate the effectiveness of a song like I’m Always on Stage.
Taken from his Me and the Dog EP, the extra material Fender issues for Record Store Day is a double-edged sword. Wild Grey Ocean is a song which could have very easily been a standout of Seventeen Going Under. The same goes for the songs compiled on Me and the Dog, those kitchen sink reckonings, the impact of fame on a familiar face around a closely-knit community. I’m Always on Stage is an acoustic-driven piece, a stripped-back occasion. It fits well with the wider context of People Watching, which was marked by the easier flow, the softer flourishes. Those moments outshine the heartland rock fixtures found in his singles, the sly bait to bring fans back for more of the same. But the switch which occurred, the brass bands and soul-searching heard on People Watching, is nothing short of remarkable. It features once more on I’m Always on Stage, the hangups and anxieties of performance not lost on a man who has performed hundreds of shows already.
Imposter syndrome is hinted at on I’m Always on Stage. The contrast of having to tighten the belt and now performing slots at Coachella, so little time passing between the two stages of financial experience, is clear. Fender may get a little too much stick for how frequently he delivers songs musing on his family and the pride he feels for his upbringing. It comes through subconsciously, and on a song dedicated to plucking the heartstrings as I’m Always on Stage is, it feels like a welcome addition. A finger-plucked acoustic guitar addition makes all the difference to those vocal charms. Elongations of his vocal structure pair with the short and sweet momentum made by his guitar. It is this charming contrast which carries I’m Always on Stage through as one of his most charming songs.
Disarmed and open to the changing tides of success, Fender once more charts a successful course through what should be a perilous time. He has kept his head clear and continued, rising higher than anyone could have expected, the artist included. Charting how he feels is the bread-and-butter experience of a Fender song. Yet the frequency of his delivery in these moments means openness prevails. As honest an artist as we may ever hear, Fender remains an open book. It benefits not just a listener in the mood for experiencing and reflecting on their life through other voices, but Fender too, whose constant desire to share his thoughts and feelings with a listener remains genuine. A sincerity like this is unmatched at present. Long may it continue.
