Sam Fender deserves recognition for singing about his vulnerability
How frequently do you observe men summoning the courage required to challenge unrealistic expectations for them to look fit and beautiful as well? The month of January often brings a wave of remorse with questions like, “Did I really need to indulge in that entire plate of pigs in blankets when I just had another one? Was watching Zulu on TV again a good enough reason for me to consume a whole bottle of red wine and an entire bag of crisps by myself in the middle of the day, or did I allow excitement to take over?”
Walking around with a pocket full of Cadbury Heroes “just in case,” once thought to be genius, now feels weak. Many individuals feel burdened by consumption-based regret early in the New Year, along with the physical weight gained from overindulgence. The subject of male body neuroses has been at the forefront of my thoughts lately, not just when enjoying a 24-pack of Ferrero Rocher while watching Jools’ Hootenanny, but also as a recurring theme in the music I appreciate.
A prime example of this is the newest track from North Shields indie-rock sensation and Big Issue ally Sam Fender, “The Treadmill.” This bonus track from the deluxe edition of his 2025 Mercury Prize-winning album “People Watching” resonates with our current sensitivities, particularly during the month of January. In contrast to his usual anthemic heartland rock, Fender croons about a man – potentially autobiographical, perhaps not – running on a treadmill in a vain attempt to outdo “a year of drinking and partying” and the heavy burden of self-loathing those months of poor decisions have placed on his heart and waist.
In the chorus, he sings, “Sean and Rosie are getting married, I’m struggling to tie my shoes. Will I be alone forever?” Sam Fender deserves commendation for having the courage to address his gut in song. While much has been discussed in recent times about the unrealistic body standards imposed on female musicians by the music industry, with artists like L.