Novelistme has today released his new album titled ‘Fabulous Nonsense’. As much an original brand as a true indie artist, Novelistme creates a distinct atmosphere with each track, which, together, envelops the listener in their little universe.
‘Fabulous Nonsense’ is a concept with conviction. A yin wanting you to be the yang. What I continually focus on is the outside of the box and left-of-center guitar work: nothing I would expect, yet everything I would adore. Commanding the limelight while taking the floor. Making everything even more anthemic.
The best thing I can say is to listen for yourself. You will find something that lures you in and lets everything keep you there.
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About ‘Fabulous Nonsense’
There’s a beautiful kind of chaos to Fabulous Nonsense, a lyric-centric album that reads like a manifesto from someone equal parts romantic, rebel, and raw-nerved philosopher. These aren’t just songs — they’re barroom sermons and bedroom confessions scribbled on napkins during emotional triage. What makes this collection buzz is its refusal to pick a lane: it’s political, personal, punch-drunk, and perceptive, often all in the same verse.
Track 1: “What I Am”
We open with identity interrogation over tribal drums in our heads. “What I am / What I’m not / I’m giving everything that I got” could be tossed-off cliché, but here it’s sung with enough conviction to make it feel like a scar. The refrain “Songs of envy / Songs of shame” pulls us into a self-made crucible — it’s the opening thesis for a record that wrestles with who we are, or might be, when no one’s watching.
Track 2: “I Want You Here”
This is the emotional heartbeat of the album — a needy, sweaty, too-honest plea for presence and permanence. “Don’t want it clean / Want it all fucked up” might as well be this record’s bumper sticker. It’s tender in its dysfunction and addictive in its repetition. Like a drunk text set to synths.
Track 3: “Never”
Part breakup anthem, part manifesto, “Never” is a snarl at attachment and conformity: “Can you weaponize a lover?” the narrator asks, before declaring, “Never gonna need ya.” The contradiction is delicious — like someone trying to storm out of the room but stopping in the doorway to see if you’re still looking.
Track 4: “Just Do It”
The Nike slogan becomes a rebel yell. This is the most punk-inflected track — it’s dizzy with rhyme, full of jabs at the justice system (“Verdict is passed / Justice a farce”), and gives off big Trainspotting-meets-Stone-Roses energy. This is grime poetry for the disillusioned.
Track 5: “I Need New Music”
The most meta track in the set. It’s a self-aware cry for artistic rebirth that critiques creative staleness and commodified culture while also being part of it. “I need new music / Don’t you confuse it / I live my life / I live my lie” — it’s honesty in a blender.
Track 6: “Stop Think Conspiracy”
This one throws punches at conspiracy culture and media-fed delusion with verses that feel like they were written on a bar napkin after too many pints and too much news. It doesn’t solve the problem — it stares at it until it blinks.
Track 7: “Doing Something”
There’s a sweetness buried under the existential fatigue. This one wants to matter, deeply. “I’m doing something / It’s better than nothing” is a line that should be inscribed above every bedroom studio and TikTok livestream — a war cry for the mediocre miracle of trying.
Track 8: “Bad Night Out”
This is where the wheels fall off. A stream-of-consciousness account of a night spiraling into mess and regret. “Everything’s all wrong / And I don’t know who to blow” — you don’t write that unless you’ve been there, or at least wanted to admit you have. It’s Bukowski with a hangover and a Spotify playlist.
Track 9: “Why Do You Talk?”
A minimalist breakup cut that’s almost too honest for comfort. “So happy for you / But not so much for me” is the kind of line you only say once before hating yourself for it. The repetition of “Why do you talk?” is a dagger cloaked in indie ennui.
Track 10: “Open Parks (For Open Hearts)”
The closer. It starts nostalgic, ends melancholic, and whispers a rebirth. A hazy elegy to youth, friendship, and fleeting joy. “Until it starts again / Starts over again” — it’s less a resolution than a resignation. Life, after all, is a loop.
Final Verdict:
Fabulous Nonsense is as much a diary as it is a setlist. It’s music made by someone who isn’t trying to impress you — they’re trying to outpace their unraveling. There’s genius in its lack of polish, poetry in its profanity. This isn’t an album for playlists — it’s one for people who still listen front-to-back, head in hands, wondering what the hell comes next.
SOURCE: Official Bio
LINKS:
https://open.spotify.com/artist/1x8JnJjZPlFO4UciBRXMQb
https://x.com/novelistme
https://www.instagram.com/novelistme
https://www.facebook.com/Novelistme-306640622683823
