My Introduction to Yungblud and Idols
Since his beginnings in Doncaster, UK, with his punk attitude, pop instincts, and dramatic style, Dominic Harrison, aka Yungblud, has built his career on intensity.
With the Grammy-nominated Idols, Yungblud isn’t just putting out a new album. He’s trying to redefine himself as an artist.
Released in mid-2025 and running at just under 50 minutes, Idols focuses on belief: who we look up to, why we do it, and what happens when admiration becomes dependence. The album explores heroes, projections, love, exhaustion, and the price of being visible.
Yungblud relies on mood and storytelling instead of pure energy. He has grown on me, so much so that I cannot wait to watch the feature-length documentary, which BAFTA and Emmy-winning director, Paul Dugdale, released regarding him in September last year, “YUNGBLUD. ARE YOU READY, BOY?”
Stand-out tracks
“Hello Heaven, Hello”
The opening track sets the intention immediately. “Hello Heaven, Hello” feels less like a song than an invocation – a nine-minute opener, sung in three parts, where he starts off singing “And I don’t know what’s in my head, but I know what’s in my chest. I don’t know if I can make it, I don’t know if I can change it. But I know it’s how I feel, even if it isn’t real. I wanna feel alive, tell me, do you wanna feel alive?” Joined by the Brixton Choir and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, it is certainly an ear-opener.
It signals that Idols will prioritise atmosphere and meaning over immediate impact. In part two, he goes on to ask, “Are you gonna be the fool who’s the last to jump off the edge? Don’t give a damn ’bout what they said?” There is a brief instrumental, and then part three, which begins with the lovely bridge: “There’s a chance I won’t see you tomorrow. So I will spend today saying hello. And all the hopes and dreams I may have borrowed. Just know, my friend, I leave them all to you. Hello, hello, hello. Hello, hello, hello.”
It establishes the album’s innovation while also hinting at the self-awareness beneath the spectacle. Fantastic.
“Idols Pt. I”
Flowing naturally from the opener, “Idols Pt. I” introduces the album’s core question. Yungblud approaches idolisation with curiosity rather than condemnation, examining the human impulse to externalise belief when certainty feels elusive. The tone is reverent but unsettled, aware of how easily admiration can slide into erasure (”I wear too much makeup to see. You broke all the mirrors in me”) —of both the idol and the admirer. He stated regarding the album: “The whole concept of the album is it’s not an homage to my idols, it’s actually me turning away from them.”
It’s a thoughtful moment that reflects Yungblud’s own position as a figure onto whom meaning is projected. Rather than rejecting that role outright, he interrogates it, positioning belief itself as the album’s emotional spine.
“Lovesick Lullaby”
“Lovesick Lullaby” immediately shifts the album’s energy without breaking its thematic flow. Stylistically, it leans firmly into Britpop territory – think mid-’90s Blur – all very melodic, confident, and outward-facing. This is not tenderness in the hushed, confessional sense; it’s yearning delivered with swagger.
Yungblud’s vocal performance is elastic and performative, turning emotional ache into something worn openly, even proudly. The lovesickness here is public and theatrical, aligning vulnerability with visibility rather than retreat (”I went out with a girl, right? But I should’ve gone out with her mate instead. I always pick the wrong people, they make me feel like I’m sick in the head”)
It’s one of the album’s most accessible tracks, but it also reinforces Idols’ larger concern with how emotion functions when it’s lived in full view.
“Zombie”
If “Lovesick Lullaby” is expressive and extroverted, “Zombie” is its emotional inverse. One of the album’s most affecting moments, the song captures exhaustion without drama. It’s about survival rather than triumph — the sense of continuing to move while feeling disconnected from purpose. It tells the story of a troubled person enduring mental pain and abuse.
The chorus lands with quiet weight, resisting catharsis in favour of resignation (”Oh, I know that I can’t live without you. But this world will keep turning if you do. Would you even want me looking like a zombie? Would you even want me, want me, want me?”) There’s a stark honesty here that cuts through the album’s theatrical flourishes. “Zombie” feels less like a statement and more like an admission, grounding Idols in lived emotional reality.
“Zombie” remains the emotional centre of the album. Stripped back in spirit even when surrounded by orchestration, it confronts the fear of emotional erosion with rare directness. Whether heard in its original form or in its later collaborative reimaginings (including the beautiful acoustic version and the amazing collaboration with The Smashing Pumpkins, released in January 2026), the song anchors Idols in genuine vulnerability.
“The Greatest Parade”
Placed mid-album, “The Greatest Parade” functions as a reframing moment. Sonically bright and propulsive, it carries a carnival energy that contrasts with its underlying fatigue. Celebration and burnout coexist, suggesting awareness of life—and identity—as ongoing performance.
Rather than glorifying spectacle, the song acknowledges its toll. Yungblud sounds conscious of the pageantry surrounding him, recognising both the thrill and the exhaustion of constant display. It’s one of the album’s most self-aware tracks, pulling back the curtain without fully stepping away from the stage.
“War”
As he states on Apple Music, “This is … about that feeling when you become forgotten by somebody. You meant so much to me, but you forgot me so quickly. It’s hard to deal with.”
“War” begins a lovely three-song ending to the album. Again, along with the London Philharmonic Orchestra in tow, it is a sweeping piece and one of the best on the album. No electric guitar solos here –“I’m calling (Calling) out. I’ll always let you down. I wanna be a fake. I thought we were the same.”
“Idols Pt. II”
Where Part I observed, “Idols Pt. II” confronts. The sound expands outward, louder and more forceful, built for collective release. This is Yungblud at arena scale, but the message complicates the grandeur.
The track suggests a realisation: idols are not distant gods, but reflections — repositories for hope, fear, and longing. Musically, it invites mass participation; lyrically, it questions the structures that enable such worship. That tension—between communal catharsis and individual independence — sits at the heart of Idols.
“Supermoon”
“Supermoon” delivers a moment of suspended wonder. Dreamlike and expansive, it captures the feeling of being drawn toward something boundless and intangible. The track glows rather than erupts, driven by atmosphere and yearning.
It’s one of the album’s most balanced moments, allowing amazement and loneliness to coexist. In doing so, it suggests a quieter form of belief — less about projection, more about acceptance. It finishes with the nuanced ending, “‘Cause they won’t ask if you’re feeling strong enough ‘Cause they won’t ask, they don’t know what it is that they love. Any more than you do. So don’t be sad. Don’t be sad.”
I can definitely imagine this being sung in a stadium with everyone’s smartphones waving along.
Idols, Identity, and the Fear of Becoming Hollow
At its core, the album wrestles with the concept of idolisation — who we look up to, why we do it, and what happens when those figures fail us, or when we become them.
There’s a quiet thread of anxiety running through the record, particularly around fame and emotional authenticity. Yungblud repeatedly circles the fear of becoming numb, disconnected, or performative — a striking concern for an artist whose persona has often been defined by excess feeling. The album’s emotional centre isn’t rage or rebellion, but vulnerability and self-doubt.
Final Verdict
Idols trades immediacy for immersion, rebellion for reflection, and chaos for control. Not every experiment lands, and not every fan will follow him into this more measured, theatrical space — but the album’s sincerity and scale make it difficult to dismiss. The album occasionally flirts with excess, but its emotional honesty and thematic focus give it real weight. I would have added it to my Albums of the Year 2025 post if I had discovered him earlier!
The collaboration with The Smashing Pumpkins crystallises what Idols is really about: influence acknowledged, not hidden; vulnerability expanded, not diluted.
Idols doesn’t offer resolution.
It offers possibility.
And for Yungblud, that feels like the most meaningful step he could take.
Rating: 9/10
Chris Garrod, January 14, 2026
Buy: https://yungbludstore.com
Stream: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=2FX9oNhpzVk&si=LMBh2cNh85c5nq4o