Bradley Simpson learns the art of letting go on ‘The Panic Years’

Recommended Tracks: “Carpet Burn,” “Almost,” “The Band’s Not Breaking Up”
Artists You Might Like: New Hope Club, Daniel Seavey, Kenzie Cait

Life, love and lessons learned. Nothing’s easy when you’re moving on or facing new beginnings. You’re thrust into a new universe, one that feels so far from your reality. With every flip of the page and tap of the pen, Bradley Simpson rips out pages of his own journal to give fans a glimpse into who he is, as both an individual and solo artist. While The Vamps has been a part of our childhoods and adolescence since 2012, Simpson, the frontman for the band, builds upon his pop sensibilities and emphasizes his darker, indie roots. He showcases a more personal and reflective side to his musicality that shows his true artistic grit he couldn’t fully explore with The Vamps. His debut album, The Panic Years, is filled with 1980s power, catchy melodies and heart.

Speaking about his solo project, Simpson shared, “I hope these songs and stories can help [listeners] navigate those experiences. They can become the soundtrack to their lives, whether they’re dancing, crying, going out, or whatever it is. It really feels like an opportunity to let them into a side of my life that I haven’t shared before.”

Simpson wastes no time pulling listeners into his world, taking listeners back ten years ago when a young girl named Cecilia broke his heart. The album opens with the debut single that kickstarted it all, “Cry at the Moon.” The brooding and emotionally charged track sees Simpson face feelings of deep longing and regret stemming from a relationship in this rock-heavy song backed by acoustic guitar. He sings, “Now I cry at the moon / She don’t shine quite like you, I’m all wrapped up in chains.” Listening to Queens of the Stone Age and Raconteurs, you’re drawn into his powerful vocals and songwriting abilities that prompt you to want to press play on the remainder of the record.

From there, he showcases different sides of his creativity, exploring darker hues on “Picasso” and intense pop elements on “Holy Grail.” Yet, the album isn’t solely rooted in nostalgia and heartache. Simpson sinks his teeth into sun-drenched seas on the feel-good track “Daisies,” balancing moments of optimism with the album’s heavier, more melancholic elements that adds artistic depth. Alluding to those first feelings of falling in love and wanting something to not necessarily be just casual anymore, we see that this intensity is far from over on “Carpet Burn,” because sometimes we just meet people at the right time. In our highest of highs and our lowest of lows, things fall into place, and in others, they simply don’t.

This emotional push-and-pull continues on “Getting Clear,” where Simpson plays on this duality. He feels lost and filled with uncertainty, as if he’s “waking up in someone else’s clothes.” But he comes to terms with the fact that it’s hard to gain that clarity and confidence, describing the two worlds he’s living in — one that’s black-and-white — switching between “cold days, to respite” and “waiting, to making the signs,” before ultimately realizing and singing, “Didn’t know how good it would feel way over here / Feel the sky’s burning out.”

Playing on the sounds of The Vamps’ “Treading Water” and “Glory Days” from their fifth album Cherry Blossom (2020), Simpson seamlessly captures the emotional back-and-forth that almost consumes you. Between commitment, struggle and unresolved issues, happiness often comes at a price: bittersweetness. There is heart and a nostalgic soul that binds Simpson to someone he once loved on the vibrant 1980s psychedelic, synth-induced track “Not Us Anymore.” With waking up together, sharing drinks and holding hands, he’s caught trying to explain “what-ifs” between missed opportunities and emotional distance on “Almost.”

This bitterness becomes a sharp thorn in his revenge-fueled cheekiness, which shines on “Favourite Band.” With biting wit and raw humor toward his time as the lead singer of The Vamps, Simpson imagines his ex hearing his music everywhere — especially when her new boyfriend turns out to be a fan. An energetic yet cathartic upbeat track, Simpson is simply tired of the doubt, finding ironic justice in his ex’s inability to escape him (“I hope he fucking breaks your heart… just kidding, no I’m not”). But even with this dryness, Simpson is hopeful yet melancholic, and it’s the bold, romantic and moody energy that captures “Always Like This” and the bitter imagery of pulling petals off a rose.

As the album nears its conclusion, Simpson realizes that some relationships don’t get a happy ending. It becomes clear that while the band The Vamps may still be together, his relationship is truly over on the ballad “The Band’s Not Breaking Up.” His vocals take center stage, and you’re almost consumed by his every word. But between the bitterness of letting go and accepting change, we all struggle to swallow the hard pill that time can’t just stop. Despite fighting the inevitable loss and painful longing that he’s giving up what he can’t have on the title track “The Panic Years,” Simpson tries to hold onto the past for dear life. He’s forced to come to terms with the fact that change is hardly ever easy for anyone, but that the same fear still holds true – growing up means learning to let go.