Dominic Fike’s Latest Project Struggles to Find Its Voice
Dominic Fike has long proven he knows how to flirt with a good melody, but committing to the substance behind those sounds is proving to be a steeper challenge. His third studio album, How to Quit Smoking, arrives with the sonic polish expected of a high-profile release, yet it often finds itself caught in a cycle of restlessness.
The album, released Friday via Columbia Records, serves as a case study in the tension between stylistic embellishment and genuine development. While the project is ostensibly about the process of growing up and breaking habits, the musical shifts often feel like new coats of paint on the same structure. The project’s lead single, “Wallflower,” which hit streaming services back on August 28, sets the tone with a loose, psychedelic groove. While the electric guitar work provides a necessary sense of space, Fike’s high-pitched vocal delivery occasionally undercuts the very charm he works so hard to build.
When Style Outpaces Substance
The record’s tendency to mistake texture for narrative depth is perhaps most evident in its treatment of relationships. Throughout the tracklist, Fike’s lyrics often drift toward physical fixation or external criticism of the women he addresses, rarely stopping to interrogate his own role in the friction. On “Lily Was A Cavalier,” for instance, the songwriting leans on critiques of a subject’s appearance—specifically referencing photo editing—rather than offering a nuanced look at the dynamic between the two people. It is a recurring pattern where the women in the songs become vehicles for the artist’s frustration rather than fully realized characters.
This uneven trajectory is not for a lack of technical ambition. Fike often experiments with rhythmic variation, and in moments where he leans into his natural vocal register, the music finds a more grounded, honest tone. On “City of Steel,” the absence of the high-pitched affectations that define other tracks allows the listener to hear the genuine character of his voice. However, even there, the songwriting can stumble; a lyrical attempt at wit involving a lawsuit threat lands with a thud, highlighting a reliance on posturing over genuine reflection.
Collaborative Anchors and the Search for Maturity
Interestingly, the moments where How to Quit Smoking feels most cohesive are those where Fike steps back and allows his collaborators to provide a steadying influence. Guests like Grace Ives and Hether bring a sense of balance to the album’s denser arrangements. On “Reno,” the interplay between Fike and Hether creates a hazy, dreamy atmosphere where their voices blend rather than compete, signaling a comfort that is occasionally absent in his solo performances.
The closing track, “Spotlight / Inner Child,” offers perhaps the most revealing glimpse into the album’s central theme. The inclusion of a prison phone conversation with rapper Tay-K provides a rare moment of personal grounding, stripping away the production wizardry for a flash of raw reality. It is a moment of vulnerability that cuts through the noise, even if the subsequent use of vocal distortion threatens to muddy that clarity once again. As Tay-K notes during the exchange, “Everything’s a learning experience.”
Whether Fike has truly learned from the experiences detailed on this record remains an open question. He has mastered the art of changing his sound, but the deeper work of self-examination requires a different kind of commitment. For an artist who has built a career on being in constant motion, the most difficult step forward may be the one that requires him to stop, stand still, and finally let the audience see exactly who is behind the microphone.
