Yungblud’s IDOLS: Every Lyric Cuts Deep

Idols the rawest, realest version of Dominic Harrison yet.

Yungblud has never been one to hide. Across three studio albums, he’s shouted, snarled, and sang his way into the hearts of fans who saw themselves reflected in his chaos. But with IDOLS, he steps away from the noise—not entirely, but just enough to let something bigger through. Honesty. Sadness. Growth.

There’s no bright pink cover, no split tongue or spiked collar. This time, the album art is black and white, a stripped-back shot of Dominic Harrison himself, blurred and still. And that image mirrors the music. IDOLS is not just Yungblud’s most mature record—it’s his most exposed. If you’ve followed him since “Loner,” this will feel like walking with him through a personal reckoning. If you’re new, this is a strong place to start.

What’s clear right away is the writing. This album isn’t built on bravado. It leans into songwriting that’s careful, cut deep from lived experience. Take “Hello Heaven Hello”—a piano-led track that walks a delicate line between grief and survival. “I saw my name on a hospital wristband / And it felt like a name I didn’t know.” It’s not dressed up. It doesn’t need to be. The line lands because it’s real.

Then there’s “Zombie,” maybe the most piercing moment on the album. With production that swells just shy of stadium rock, Yungblud confesses to dissociation, fear, and numbness, not for drama, but as a diary entry. “Put on my face and I’ll smile for the party / But inside I’m rotting like bones in the rain.” You can feel the exhaustion. And yet, it’s still a banger.

“IDOLS Part II” is another standout. It’s not just a sequel, it’s a reflection. He calls back to his rise, the people he looked up to, and the complicated road he’s walked since. “They told me I’d save the broken / But I think I’m just bleeding out.” There’s a weight to it. But it’s also resilient. He’s still here. Still playing. Still writing.

Even “Lovesick Lullaby,” which didn’t quite hit as a standalone single, finds its footing in the album’s flow. Surrounded by the rest, it sounds less like a cry for attention and more like a cry for help. That matters. The context gives it power.

From the cathartic intensity of Zombie to the stripped-bare honesty of Hello Heaven Hello, and the self-reflective anthem IDOLS Part II, this isn’t just another chapter in Yungblud’s story, IDOLS feels like his magnum opus. A culmination of grief, self-examination, and sonic risk-taking, it’s the sound of an artist reaching deeper than ever before.

Musically, the album pulls from multiple pockets—rock, alt-pop, even moments of indie fuzz—but it’s less sonically chaotic than previous work. There’s still rage, but it’s focused. There’s sadness, but it’s processed. It feels like Yungblud learning how to be Dominic Harrison again.

The production choices help too. There’s space in the mix, giving the lyrics room to breathe. The vocals aren’t overly polished. At times they crack, whisper, break. That’s the point. This isn’t a rock star screaming into the void. It’s a person trying to make sense of what the last few years have done to them.

Because he’s been through it. Not just creatively, but emotionally. And rather than hide behind a new aesthetic or mask it with noise, he’s made something that feels grounded in actual truth. You might not relate to every word. But you will believe he means them.

Not everything lands perfectly. A couple of tracks drift too close to familiar territory. But that’s fine. IDOLS doesn’t need to reinvent his wheel. It just realigns it. Grown-up, but not dull. Softer in moments, but never weak. And above all, still deeply Yungblud.

This is his best album so far. Not because it’s the loudest or most theatrical—but because it’s the one that feels most like him.

Yungblud isn’t trying to be anyone’s saviour this time around. He’s just trying to stay upright. And in doing so, he might’ve given his fans exactly what they needed.