‘THE PANIC YEARS’: BRADLEY SIMPSON STUNS SOLO WITH A NEW SOUND AND A NEW ALBUM

ALBUM REVIEW | BRADLEY SIMPSON – THE PANIC YEARS by Martha Munro

For over a decade, 29-year-old Bradley Simpson – the much-loved frontman of the internationally adored British pop group The Vamps – has never been without his boyhood bandmates in the studio. But this year, he’s decided to go solo with his own dazzling debut album: The Panic Years.

This path on Simpson’s journey began in 2024, with a flurry of single-releases such as Cry At The Moon and Daisies, not to mention an impressive round of solo shows across the UK and Europe. Every solo step of his has been met with a raucous fan response and raving reviews. Now, the long awaited The Panic Years is in sight, set to be released 28th February – and it’s safe to say that fans will not be disappointed.

Across his creative projects in The Vamps, Simpson has never been one to shy away from a real, raw feeling. But this solo record – its honesty, its emotional variety, its diaristic, confessional quality – brings an entirely new intimacy to his songwriting style. From love to bitterness, from euphoria to sadness, Simpson invites the listener into his inner world, swirling with its fresh style fusions and accomplished sound.

Kicking off the album is a cluster of well-loved singles that pack a confident first punch, introduced by the dynamic Cry At The Moon. This song is the perfect opener, beginning with a Joni-Mitchell-esque chord combo on the acoustic guitar in a country-tinged minor key; an immediate intensity floods the soundscape. As the instrumentation builds, so does the lyrical longing and regret in Simpson’s vocal lines, pulling on the song’s urgency before the beat drops – and what a drop it is. Electric and elevated, the chorus crashes in, with its high energy, kicking drums, and resounding bass foundation. The mastery in this song is at its clearest in the stylistic elements; Simpson meshes his well-seasoned pop melodies with a new Americana style, his classic Vamps vocals melting into a new, ambitious musical world.

The evocative second track and single Picasso positions its lyrics in the spotlight, using painting imagery to illustrate a toxic, all-consuming love. The previous track’s intensity bleeds into this one, along with the conventions of the pop style in aspects like the drums and melody that brim with smooth surety. Through the use of found sounds, tambourine and a jaunty rhythm, Simpson achieves ironically playful patterns which accompany the deeper lyrics, portraying the coincidence of beauty and turmoil: ‘Turn the torture into art.’ These contradictions are all immensely skilful, with nothing random or out of place – a natural accomplishment as a result of his musical experience.

Third track Carpet Burn, born a single, begins with a beachy Djo-reminiscent electric guitar and lifts off into a sound that reminds the listener of June Baby by Victoria Canal: sweet, smooth and summery. The bridge in particular reveals just how foundational the drum lines are in this song, propelling it forward with diverse dynamics and powerful patterns, as well as emphasising the ecstasy in Simpson’s stunning vocals. The relationship depicted in this song is a stark contrast to that of Picasso: Carpet Burn is all about that healthy, authentic, full love.

In keeping with this summery style is the following single Daisies, a testament to a timeless mix of indie-rock, pop and retro genres. Its ‘Heartstopper’-esque sound is achieved by the gradual build-up of basic elements, from a simple drum and bass to a more layered soundscape, packed with acoustic guitar, reverb-rife vocals and heartfelt lyrics – an addictively sweet earworm.

Track five, Holy Grail, has a raw, live quality and a classic, Buble-reminiscent pop ballad progression, charting the ups and downs of love. There is a clear mood-shift here, revealing a more stripped back, emotive musical environment where Simpson builds up the track in both the vocals and instrumentation; a bass drumbeat here, some guitar reverb there. The result towards the end of the song is euphoric, with a final, elevated, dramatic section full of syncopation and grandiose – a musical expression of love at its most heartfelt.

With sixth track Getting Clear, it’s as if the record’s been flipped to the B-side, picking the pace back up and revealing yet another part of Bradley Simpson’s inner world. This angle is one of intensity, with a bass-founded, put-together messiness, and the retro-style synth elevates the starry 80s-psychedelia elements, similarly seen in Niall Horan’s On A Night Like Tonight. With the grit and passion of Getting Clear, there’s an undeniable confidence and sense of divinity, with effortless rhythm rewires and Simpson’s simply masterful vocal manipulations.

This is why the following number Not Us Anymore does bring this so-far consistent standard down slightly, if only because of its predictability. While the artist’s vocals remain reliably magnetic, switching easily and sensitively between smooth breathiness and gritty belts, the song overall doesn’t have the same compelling quality as the others. It instead gives a subdued impression of The Vamps’ 2017 studio album Night & Day, without a feeling of development or freshness.

However, when the romantic, waltzing beat of Almost comes in, we are plunged right back into the addictive diversity of The Panic Years overall. With its heavily electronic, synthesised framework, the hazy, heartache-filled vocals are elevated by an all-encompassing, spacey, sensitive soundscape. The hook – ‘You were almost the best thing that happened to me’ – exemplifies Simpson’s impressive ability to express a contradiction, whether it be lyrical or stylistic, here presenting a deep closeness despite a tangible distance.

Favourite Band is up next: conversational, spiteful, and above all, fun. The 80s psychedelia heard in Getting Clear returns here with a playful glockenspiel, joined by sustained bass notes, guitar reverb, and stunning vocal strength from Simpson throughout. He reaches every ambition with ease. This track in particular shows that Simpson really knows how to write a bridge; while his songs tend to retain his familiar pop structure, the bridges never sound predictable, not just filling the space but really transforming it to keep the energy flowing. In Favourite Band, he employs rippling drums to introduce a new crescendo and end each bar with a bang.

Tenth track and final single on the album, Always Like This, packs a powerful punch of pure energy and a pocket of release towards the end of the album. The country-style guitar kicks off the number with a Fleetwood Mac air, promising of rock riffs to come. A build-up of vocals and drums crashes the listener into the deep, full-sounding chorus, brimming with bass-driven impacts that create an addictive rhythm and set up the drums for their spotlight-moment in the bridge: atmospheric, intense and irresistible.

The following, penultimate track The Band’s Not Breaking Up brings the sound right back down to a warbling acoustic guitar and a raw heartbreak. The Vamps-esque trajectory and references to ‘the boys’ strengthens the idea that – as the title suggests – this song is aimed at the devoted fanbase of The Vamps, a reassurance veiled under lyrics about an actual break-up. While the song feels repetitive, perhaps less stylistically creative than the rest of the record, it’s undeniable that this is a creative way to use lyrics as a testament to friends, fandom and lost love all at once.

Bradley Simpson w/ The Vamps (Rebecca Kilpatrick/Northern Exposure))

And finally, track twelve: The Panic Years. If The Band’s Not Breaking Up isn’t nostalgic, this song encompasses everything we’ve heard from Bradley Simpson so far, with and without The Vamps – a perfect title track. The introductory acoustic guitar has a George Harrison feel to its wavering strums, immediately getting across that intense nostalgia and youthful, fun feel: ‘It feels like I’m eighteen again.’ With a skipping drumbeat and lilting vocals to match, Simpson lifts the song into its chorus, which has a similar foundation to songs such as Smile (a track on The Vamps’ debut album Meet The Vamps) but is more mature and developed, again giving a musical testament to the journey of of this album, of the ‘panic years’ it charts, and of Simpson’s time in the band; it’s pop euphoria encompassed in three minutes.

The Panic Years is the perfect album for anybody looking for a fresh take on 2010s pop in 2025, not only in your headphones, but live on stage too! That’s right – Bradley Simpson is embarking on a UK tour this May to bring The Panic Years right to you. Who’s coming?