Alex Warren WILDCHILD

Tracks: EMERALD EYES; SAME STARS; PASSENGER; RESCUER; CRY WOLF; FINE PLACE TO DIE; ARE YOU HAVING FUN, ALEX?; I MISS YOUR MORE; ONLY THING LEFT; FEVER DREAM; WON'T GO BACK AGAIN; LASTTIME WILDCHILD

Label: Atlantic

There has been no shortage of backlash surrounding Alex Warren’s meteoric rise. The former TikTok star has faced plenty of criticism from those who dismiss the quality of his output, question his originality and accuse him of producing paint-by-numbers pop designed for maximum streaming impact. Yet while opinions on Warren’s artistry may vary, there is no arguing with his impact. Ordinary has become one of the biggest songs of the decade, while his arena tours have sold out at astonishing speed. Now, with his sophomore album WILDCHILD, Warren has the perfect opportunity to silence the critics — and he does so by channelling his emotional journey into a format that once again connects.

There is something about Alex Warren’s music that feels deeply personal while somehow remaining universally relatable. His songs have an unusual ability to sit beside you in the messier corners of life, offering neither easy answers nor polished clichés, but the comforting sense that somebody else understands. On WILDCHILD, that quality develops into something particularly affecting: an endearing, emotionally charged and remarkably honest pop record about surviving the past, finding connection in the present and learning to embrace the life that remains.

Across 13 tracks and just under 39 minutes, Warren opens the door to some of the most personal chapters of his life. Much of the album draws from his relationship with his wife, Kouvr Annon, as well as his memories of his late parents, with audio snippets from his father woven throughout the record. The result is a level of intimacy that recalls the openness of his debut, but takes it even further—more vulnerable, more revealing, and deeply personal. Even the title carries its own emotional weight, taken from a nickname Warren’s father gave him.

And if the album needed an introduction, its singles have done an exceptional job of providing one. FEVER DREAM and FINE PLACE TO DIE don't simply deliver as singles; they set the tone faultlessly for everything that follows. The former captures the breathless, almost dizzying excitement of falling in love, while the latter is a devastatingly beautiful meditation on love, mortality and the people who make life worth holding on to. FINE PLACE TO DIE is, quite simply, hands down one of the most beautiful songs delivered this year.

PASSENGER and RESCUER further establish the emotional terrain. On RESCUER, Warren looks back at some of the lowest points of his life, including a period when he was homeless and sleeping in his car, before turning his attention towards the person who remained beside him. It is a striking reminder that Warren's idea of love extends beyond romance. Here, love represents stability, gratitude and the possibility of rebuilding — the strength we can find in having someone beside us when everything else feels uncertain.

That vulnerability is balanced by some of the album's more confrontational moments. CRY WOLF injects a welcome dose of attitude, with Warren delivering his vocals with an edge that makes the song feel less polished and considerably more human. It is catchy, but there's something uncomfortable beneath the surface — an acknowledgement of self-destruction that refuses to dress itself up.

WON'T GO BACK AGAIN takes that idea of survival and turns it into something triumphant. It is a song about recognising the scars of the past without allowing them to dictate the future. There is no suggestion that healing means erasing what happened. Instead, Warren embraces the idea that moving forward can be its own form of victory — that sometimes healing is simply learning how to carry the past without allowing it to define everything that comes next.

What ultimately makes WILDCHILD difficult to dismiss as formulaic is the sincerity running through it. Yes, Warren understands how to write a huge chorus. Yes, these are polished, accessible pop songs. And yes, there is an undeniable instinct for the kind of emotional hook that can turn a song into a global anthem. But commercial accessibility and emotional authenticity aren't mutually exclusive.

In fact, WILDCHILD works precisely because Warren understands that tension. He takes deeply personal experiences — grief, homelessness, love, insecurity, resilience and family — and translates them into songs that don't require the listener to have lived the same life to understand the feeling. His experiences may be uniquely his, but the emotions they create are recognisable to anyone who has loved, lost, struggled or found their way forward.

That universality is perhaps the album's greatest strength. Warren's story belongs to him, but the emotions belong to everyone. There is heartbreak here, grief, anger, gratitude, joy and hope, often packaged into songs that invite you to sing along before you have fully processed what you're singing about. In that sense, WILDCHILD becomes less about Warren telling listeners how to feel and more about creating a space where they can recognise something of themselves in what he has lived through.

For anyone who has experienced the loss of a parent, the record carries an additional weight. Warren's approach to grief never feels overly sentimental. Instead, it feels communal — like sitting around a bonfire with people you have never met, talking about those you've lost and discovering that, despite the differences in your stories, the feelings are remarkably similar. The snippets of his father make that connection even more powerful, turning what could have been deeply private moments into something shared.

That may ultimately be Warren's greatest achievement on WILDCHILD: taking the most intimate parts of his life and turning them into a point of connection. The album doesn't promise that everything gets better, nor does it pretend that pain can simply be left behind. Instead, it finds beauty in the process of carrying it, growing around it and discovering new reasons to keep moving. And when those feelings arrive wrapped in soaring choruses and instantly memorable pop melodies, the result is an album that feels not only personal, but genuinely healing.