For a while, British guitar music seemed to be living in the shadow of rap, pop and electronic. Then Sam Fender arrived. "Hypersonic Missiles," "Seventeen Going Under" and "Getting Started" weren't throwbacks - they were proof that working-class storytelling and big choruses could still fill arenas.
Fender's songs are unashamedly political and personal: austerity, male mental health, small-town hope and frustration. He's from North Shields, and the North East runs through every line. That regional identity - and the band's live power - has made him one of the few British rock acts to break through to a Gen-Z audience without sacrificing the craft.
North Shields to the world
Sam Fender grew up in North Shields, Tyne and Wear, and the town has never left his music. Early EPs and support slots built a following, but it was "Hypersonic Missiles" - a song about the threat of nuclear war and the anxiety of a generation - that announced him as something more than another guitar hopeful. The debut album of the same name went to number one, and suddenly British rock had a voice that could speak to the same audience that had been raised on rap and pop. The follow-up, Seventeen Going Under, dug even deeper: title track "Seventeen Going Under" was a raw account of teenage years, family struggle and the weight of expectation. It became an anthem for anyone who'd ever felt stuck in a small town with big dreams.
What sets Fender apart is the combination of scale and specificity. The songs are huge - singalongs built for stadiums - but the details are local. Street names, bus routes, the feeling of a North East winter. That balance has won him fans across the UK and beyond, while keeping his identity rooted. He's not trying to sound American or generic; he's trying to sound like where he's from, and it's working.
Politics and mental health in the spotlight
Fender has never shied away from difficult subjects. "Dead Boys" addressed male suicide and the silence that surrounds it; "Aye" tackled political disillusionment; "Spit of You" explored father-son relationships with a tenderness that belied the loud guitars. That willingness to be vulnerable and political in the same breath has made him a figurehead for a kind of British rock that feels relevant - not nostalgic. He's spoken openly about his own mental health, and the fanbase has responded with a loyalty that goes beyond the music.
Live, the band is a force. Fender's voice carries over the noise, and the songs are built for crowds. Headlining slots at Reading and Leeds, arena tours and festival stages have confirmed that guitar music can still draw when the songs and the message are right. The next album will be one of the most anticipated in British rock - and the North East will be watching.
Guitar music's new hope
Alongside acts like The Lathums, The Reytons and a resurgent interest in indie and rock, Fender has helped remind the industry that guitar music isn't dead - it just needed someone to sing about the right things. His success is a reminder that British audiences still want anthems, still want to shout along, and still want to see themselves in the stories being told. Sam Fender is that story, and he's only getting started.