AtanariaWhen Damiano David, the charismatic frontman of Måneskin, announced his solo debut Funny Little Fears, the anticipation came laced with curiosity. Known for his swaggering glam-rock persona that helped Måneskin captivate the world after their 2021 Eurovision victory, David’s move away from the high-octane theatrics that defined his band felt both risky and intriguing. The result is an impressive, soul-baring collection that proves Damiano can thrive outside the rock ‘n’ roll machine that made him famous—and nearly consumed him.
Landing appropriately on Eurovision weekend, Funny Little Fears feels like a deliberate statement: a nod to the past while firmly stepping into new territory. Gone are the gritty riffs, leather pants, and the chaotic bravado. In their place stands a sleek, melodramatic, and carefully curated pop record that echoes the career reinvention of artists like Harry Styles. Like Styles’ Fine Line, David’s album strikes a balance between vulnerability and showmanship, blending personal confessions with grand, stadium-ready moments.
The album opens with Voices, an energetic anthem where David confronts his inner demons head-on. Its towering chorus and polished production recall the infectious energy of Måneskin’s viral Beggin’ cover but with a more personal undertone. From there, Next Summer delivers a bittersweet pop shimmer, with just enough ABBA-esque nostalgia to make its heartache feel both timeless and cinematic.
One of the album’s standout qualities is its variety, achieved without sacrificing cohesion. Sick Of Myself leans into Lennon-style piano balladry, revealing David’s more introspective side. Meanwhile, Tango serves up carefree indie-pop sunshine, and Mars ascends into orchestral grandeur, showcasing his knack for theatrical, yet tasteful, melodrama. The Americana-tinged The First Time brings a hint of The Killers’ widescreen road-trip vibe, adding further texture to the album’s pop palette.
David also proves himself a generous collaborator. Suki Waterhouse’s silky vocals elevate The Bruise into a tender, lighters-in-the-air singalong, while viral sensation D4vd joins him on Tangerine, a sweet, old-school waltz that feels delightfully out of time. Each feature feels organic, adding nuance without overshadowing David’s vision.
The album closes on its most intimate note with Solitude (No One Understands Me)—an electro-lullaby where Damiano lays bare the existential undercurrent that runs through the record. The poignant line, “I’ve got a funny fear of flying, it’s not the height or the chance of maybe dying / It’s finding out the Earth was flat and finding out everybody here was lying,” captures the album’s central theme: the fear not of failure, but of disillusionment. It’s a fitting, poetic summary of David’s journey toward self-discovery and creative freedom.
While Funny Little Fears may lack some of Måneskin’s glam-rock chaos, what it offers in return is a mature, self-assured pop record that radiates both class and honesty. In shedding the excess that once threatened to derail him, Damiano David has found a sound that feels entirely his own. This is the work of an artist who, while still young, has already weathered the storm and emerged more comfortable—and more compelling—than ever.
As he quietly declares on Solitude: “No one understands me, but I do.” And after Funny Little Fears, his listeners may understand him a little more too.
