Harris Rafferty makes his latest statement with “Burnin’”, a track that arrives with the subtle grace of a brick thrown through a conservatory window. Listening to this, I was immediately struck by the sheer kinetic output of the Lancashire artist; it feels less like a studio recording and more like being strapped into a roller coaster that has not been inspected for safety since 1997.
The song sits comfortably at the frantic intersection of pop-punk and alternative rock, driven by a rhythm section that seems to be running away from something terrified. There is a density to the production a thick, churning wall of harmonic distortion that somehow smells of ozone and asphalt. It reminds me, quite unexpectedly, of a dream I once had about trying to run underwater; that sensation of immense resistance met with desperate, flailing effort. Rafferty’s vocals soar over this turbulence, anthemic and cutting, embodying the “fire inside” that the lyrics explore.
Thematically, Rafferty isn’t interested in holding hands. He is sifting through the wreckage of his own making. “Burnin’” deals with the distinct, heavy flavor of guilt that settles in the stomach after you’ve torched a bridge you swore you’d cross again. It captures that precise moment where ambition turns into isolation, where the safety of the past is sacrificed for a cold, unwritten future.
This is a song about the debris of self-sabotage, yet it rings with a cathartic determination. It’s loud, messy, and wonderfully human. Is the heat of the fire worth the burns? Rafferty doesn’t answer the question for us, but he certainly enjoys watching the flames dance.
