Yungblud’s Idols Bleeds Honesty, Heart, and Rock ’n’ Roll Spirit

By Rebecca Clark

Yungblud has been making serious waves in the UK, and with his latest release Idols, released on June 20th, the hope is that the U.S. finally catches on. This record is a powerful, emotionally charged body of work that deserves to be heard on both sides of the Atlantic. Whether you know Yungblud already or are just getting familiar, you can feel his influences all over this album, not as imitations, but as threads woven into his own sound. It’s Bowie, it’s Aerosmith, it’s early 2000s alt-rock, but make it unapologetically him.

At its core, Idols is a bold and unfiltered record, honest, fearless, and emotionally raw. Yungblud doesn’t hide behind polished pop or pretend everything is fine, he dives headfirst into the messiness of mental health, trauma, love, identity, and the music industry itself. It’s raw and real. The entire album flows like a conversation with the parts of yourself that are hardest to face. And somehow, through all of that, it’s also empowering.

The opening track immediately sets the tone. “Hello Heaven, Hello” is nine minutes of catharsis, a theatrical, soul-shaking anthem with 70s rock energy and a full philharmonic swell that makes it feel massive. It is reminiscent of Aerosmith or even AC/DC at times, but lyrically, it’s a personal war. Yungblud sings about being beaten down, by others and by his own mind, and still choosing to rise. There’s desperation in the repeated “Hello,” like someone trying to find a lifeline in the chaos. But by the end, it becomes a rebirth: he’s choosing to live, to feel, to fight back.

“Zombie” is one of the most emotionally powerful songs on the album. “Zombie” is haunting both in sound and message. With early 2000s alt-rock vibes that echo bands like Live and Radiohead, the song aches with grief and numbness. It feels like a cry from someone who’s emotionally drained, possibly even suicidal, yet still trying to be there for others. Lines like “If you were to ask about the pain, I would lie” hit like a punch in the chest.

The music video drives it home even more, serving as a tribute to nurses and caretakers who carry everyone else’s pain but often feel invisible themselves. “Zombie” isn’t just about personal grief, it’s about collective exhaustion. This song will give you chills, because pain and grief are things no one can escape and it captures how well people often hide them.

“The Greatest Parade,” This one stood out for its theatricality and glam-rock flavor and it immediately gives off Bowie vibes. “The Greatest Parade” is upbeat on the surface, but beneath it, there’s deep emotional weariness. The lyrics reflect someone who relied on others’ praise to feel okay, only to fall apart when it disappeared. Still, there’s hope woven in. Lines like “We are the rain and wind to the stars and the sun” feel cosmic and affirming, as if to say: even in your pain, you matter.

The line “I know there’s no tomorrow, I know there’s just today” says it all, it’s about being here, even when it’s hard, and making beauty out of whatever life hands you.

“Monday Murder” has a haunting beauty to it, and had hints of The Cure in its atmosphere. This track feels like someone stuck in the grind of life, hypnotized by routine and all the expectations piled on by society. There’s a fog over everything, like sleepwalking through your own existence. “Just another day to die” isn’t about literal death, it’s about losing yourself little by little to the daily demands that strip you of meaning.

There’s this eerie softness to it, like a lullaby for burnout. It’s subtle but devastating and painfully relatable for anyone who’s ever felt numb under the weight of trying to keep up.

For many listeners, “Ghosts” will likely become a favorite and for good reason. It’s stunning, both musically and lyrically. You can hear influences like Guns N’ Roses in the guitars, and the way the philharmonic and guitar seem to have a conversation is beautiful. But what hits hardest are the lyrics.

“Remember sticks and stones / And how they broke your bones / Pain is how you learn / And boy you learned a lot”

This song is about perseverance. About rising above the things that haunt you. It’s not about pretending the bad things didn’t happen, it’s about walking through them and still choosing to be yourself. “Ghosts” feels like the anthem for every survivor who refused to let the pain define them. Yungblud doesn’t just tell us who he is, he shows us what it took to become that person.

“War,” “Idols Pt. 2” and “Supermoon” A Poetic Exit. “War” brings that gritty alt-rock punch again and even gives The Calling vibes. It keeps the album’s energy alive while continuing the themes of inner battles and outside pressure. “Idols Pt. 2” is this beautiful piano piece that gently transitions into the album’s closer, “Supermoon,” which is one of the most introspective tracks on the record.

Even the cover art of Idols reflects this emotional unraveling and reclamation. Yungblud appears almost bare, letting his tattoos do some of the storytelling. One in particular stands out “don’t forget to live” on his arm, and positioned nearly dead-center in the frame. Much like the songs themselves, it’s a reminder to stay grounded, to hold on, to live despite everything. And nowhere is that message more emotionally tangled than in the closing track, “Supermoon.”

“Supermoon” feels like a quiet, exhausted confession from someone who’s been chewed up by the industry machine but is still chasing their dreams. It’s about burnout, self-doubt, and trying to keep your creative fire alive when everyone expects you to be something, even when they don’t know what it is that they love any more than you do.

“They won’t ask if you’re feeling strong enough / They don’t know what it is that they love / Any more than you do.”

It’s a lyric that hits hard, capturing the brutal honesty of navigating fame, creativity, and the complexities of being human.

Idols is an experience. Every track builds on the one before it, and it’s one of those rare records you want to play start to finish without skipping. It’s a flowing, emotional, vulnerable, and complete body of work. It’s clear that this album is more Yungblud than ever, shaped by his idols but fully his own voice.

He gave us his guts, his ghosts, and his fire. And we truly hope more people, especially in the U.S. start paying attention.