Three years after Dominic Fike released his debut album, What Could Possibly Go Wrong? he releases Sunburn: an homage to his past, present, and future.
Sunburn is the epitome of driving to the beach with your head out the window containing absolutely zero skips (well, zero if you ignore “How Much is Weed?”). But what I think makes this album exceptionally well done and the most significant work in Fike’s discography is the raw emotions displayed in his melodic memoir.
Dominic has always been vocal about his struggles in his early life. From his tumultuous childhood in the small beach town of Naples, Florida, to his battles with substance abuse and incarceration, he has never attempted to hide his journey of becoming an artist. The songs in his latest album are an archive of his past that he has “recorded and dressed up as pretty as I could.”
The songs were originally meant to be included in his first album, and while many fans believe the 3-year wait was completely unnecessary, I think their postponement made their message more meaningful than it would’ve been if the songs were released freshly off the record. Mind you, these songs were made years ago when Dominic had a very different perspective of the world, when he “lived alone with no furniture, just a studio, half a bed, and a very whole addiction.” Tracks like “Think Fast” featuring Weezer and “Dark” display Dominic’s beautiful and inspiring growth not only as a singer but also as somebody who grew to love living.
Starting off strong with electric guitar riffs that reminded me of early 2000s teen movies, “Ant Pile” describes Dominic’s story of growing up in his neighborhood with a girl and how their close friendship progressed into a love story. In “Think Fast” Dominic talks about leaving Naples and the instability in his home that was hindering his success. He also mentions seeing a certain “she” who has succumbed to “the garden with the snakes,” possibly alluding to his mother’s heroin addiction and being in and out of jail while she struggled to raise Dominic and his siblings as a single mother.
As the album starts to come to a close, Dominic reminisces about how far he’s come as an artist in his song “Dark”: “My head got so big/ Don’t remember who you is dawg/ Don’t remember when it switched, but/ Yeah, it’s dark out here.” While he’s proud of the goals he’s achieved, he can’t help but feel his authenticity slip away and look at his past wistfully as he thinks about what he had to leave behind.
Sunburn is Dominic’s perfect way of saying farewell to his old demos while simultaneously introducing his new style of music. Being an old Dominic Fike fan myself, this album might possibly be one of my favorite albums to listen to, cry to, sing to, and reflect on (mainly because I missed his concert at Stanford). To fans who are wary of his sudden change, this shouldn’t be considered an end to his brand but rather a fiery start to a new era.