When it comes to listening to an artist for the first time, I admit that I don’t give them a lot of chances. I usually listen to the first 30 seconds of the song and if something doesn’t strike me right away, well I jump to the next thing. But that day, I was at work and I remember feeling sick of listening to the same songs over and over again. So I clicked on this YouTube recommandation named Dominic Fike — “King of Everything” (Live) | Vevo DSCVR and got back to work.
The intro of “King of Everything” is unusually long (2 minutes). If it was another song, I would have never listened to it that far but for some reason my ears perked up at the sound of the first notes and they embraced the melody instantly, naturally. I wasn’t even waiting for a voice to come out because I was really enjoying what I was hearing. But then Dominic’s first vocals hit me. I stopped everything I was doing and got back to the Youtube video.
It felt like everything was in the right place. What I saw was a cute kid with green hair, face tats and a junkie energy delivering an effortless live performance. Yet you can feel all the work and the dedication to his music in the way he sings and plays the guitar. Great presence.
I fell in love a second time when I heard him say the lines “But everybody’s equal but not me ’cause I’m the king”. He sang that as if it was a truth of the world. With great confidence but also like he couldn’t care less because it’s just one truth among billion others. I did not know my smile could get wider, it burnt my cheeks.
The obsession started at that right moment. I immediately listened to his first EP Don’t Forget About Me, Demos and watched his live performances. I listened to him 10 hours a day for weeks, I just didn’t want anyone else in my ears. I was particularly really dragged into his live concerts videos. His aggressive blues vocals give totally different renditions of the original tracks. Some fans seem confused and disappointed that he freestyles the melodies because they feel like they can’t sing along but I personally love the rawness of it. Sometimes, he plays the song softer than it is. This is when I remember how pure beauty lies in simple things.
When I look at him, I can see that Dom is not scared to take risks. A continuous line of musicality and honesty is written in all of his moves. He shows us that making a good song doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a good artist. But making the song your own each time you’re performing it does.
Another thing caught my attention in an interview where he opens up on what it was like to make music in jail.
“The sink had a tone. It had a note to it. I called my producer one day and I banged on my sink and asked him what note it was. […] From there I was able to play the note and play up the C major scale. I was able to write music that way.
He explains “I would write a song in my cell and I couldn’t remember the next morning. So I had to write music to it, but there was no source of music or scale. I literally had to bang on my sink everyday, find the note… start from there, write it and then be able to go up. So that was the source of music I had in jail.”
Dom acts as if there are no obstacles to his work, no bars in prison, no excuses to not get things done. His whole being is a tribute to absolute freedom because everything he does revolves around finding his truest self. His devotion to his craft makes me understand that there is nothing holding me back from doing what I should do. It has inspired me to write this article and it has given me the permission to set myself free.
Thank you for everything.
