fakemink tackles the horrors of fame on sophomore album 'Terrified .'

fakemink’s initial run under his old 9090gate moniker was a masterclass in relentless energy, churning out singles from an Essex bedroom at a dizzying pace. His sophomore album, Terrified ., on the other hand, represents the sound of a screeching halt in the middle of Hollywood's fast lane.

We’ve all seen the trajectory over the last year. fakemink has been pulled out on stage by the likes of Drake and Playboi Carti, spotted on the runway for Gucci in Milan, and high-profile stars like Timothée Chalamet have been caught attending his gigs.

Despite the massive industry machine swirling around him, Terrified . completely rejects the polished, crowd-pleasing playbook.

It’s a claustrophobic, anxious record that deals with the dystopian reality of becoming famous and getting stuck in the LA lifestyle vs his Essex roots. It essentially treats the theatrics of fame like a horror movie.

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A chronological descent

The structure of this album tells you everything about fakemink’s uncompromising headspace.

Built entirely from scratch with just two samples across the entire 55 minutes, the tracklist is organised in the exact chronological order in which the songs were created. It’s a literal time capsule of his mental state as he transitioned from quiet Essex to a chaotic residency at LA’s "haunted" Chateau Marmont hotel.

As detailed in his recent Zane Lowe Interview, the first eight tracks represent fakemink indulging in all seven deadly sins, starting explicitly in "hell."

While the section serves as a volatile showcase of "sleazepop", the real peak arrives with "Hard Candy." It's a peppier standout, a nod to the high-energy SoundCloud era, but with a maximalist, terrifying studio sheen. Serving as the "gluttony" of the seven deadly sins track run, the track breaks into the bleak emotional comedown waiting on the other side.

The momentum breaks with "Fire & Ice," a massive, echoey 7-minute theatrical centrepiece narrated by LA socialite Victoria Davidoff. It functions like a David Lynch interlude, splitting the timeline in half and forcing the listener through a narrative threshold before the emotional comedown begins.

Cutting off the low end

The middle portion of the album absolutely hits, but it does so by executing a ruthless sonic trick: the gradual and total removal of low-end frequencies.

As the tracklist progresses out of the initial "hell," the bass and heavy drums begin to bleed out. By the time you reach the eerie, fragile minimalism of tracks like "Creed ." which ditches the signature vocal distortion for a bare piano melody and raw, vulnerable auto-tune, the sonic landscape feels completely claustrophobic yet empty.

To completely starve the backend of a record of its low end is a massive risk for a UK Underground paragon, but it perfectly mirrors the emotional emptiness of the celebrity vacuum.

This subversion is most evident on the project's precursor single, "Night, Blooming Jasmine ." Originally teased during his Coachella set before a surprise drop, the track is a direct love letter to David Lynch (referencing the actual words adorned on Lynch’s grave and the old-Hollywood dread of Mulholland Drive). It acts as the perfect structural bridge from his previous EP, The Boy Who Cried Terrified., plunging his sound directly into a dystopian LA simulation.

Zero features, zero catering

What does it say about an artist when they completely wipe the guest list on their most anticipated project?

Rumours had been tearing through Tumblr and TikTok about a massive, heavily hyped feature (along with a leaked SoundCloud link with pop darling PinkPantheress, who is easily one of the only pop stars who might fit his palette).

To leave the album with zero features says everything: fakemink is absolutely not catering to the algorithm or trading co-signs for clout.

Instead, he uses that space to ground the record in his own roots. Tracks like "Forget Me Not" are easily some of the most melodic of the set, featuring intensely personal lyrics where he explicitly signals back to his Essex origins. It proves that despite walking for Gucci or having Timothée Chalamet at his gigs, his music still echoes the Essex boy who loves deconstructing sound.

By the time the album reaches its final, drumless, echoey stretches on the closing track "Etna," the distortion washes away entirely. He’s gone through the rings of hell and come out the other side.

Terrified . is a confrontational, unconventional project, and easily one of the most standout releases in the UK underground scene.