In 2002, four Wilmslow High School students — Adam Hann, Matty Healy, George Daniel and Ross Macdonald — formed a four-piece in Manchester, England and named themselves “The 1975,” inspired by a scribbled note from Jack Kerouac’s poetry book. Initially, the act made its name with a mix of alternative and pop music. Yet, immense talent allowed the band to shine in almost every genre, and their ever-evolving sound keeps the group at the forefront of modern music.
Like any other successful act, “The 1975” boasts a tight-knit group of fans. Yet, what makes the bond so distinctive is one simple reason: the songs speak uniquely to each fan and their story.
For me, “Robbers” holds special meaning. The first few notes sweep listeners up into a sense of recklessness and inevitability. Through a mix of shimmering guitars, a steady drumbeat and Healy’s raw, aching voice, the song slowly builds in intensity, mirroring the emotional spiral of the lyrics. The bridge, where Healy wails, “Now everybody’s dead,” is a gut-punch moment, one that overflows with desperation and heartbreak.
However, the band’s impact goes beyond just storytelling. Not only do they talk about societal concerns, but “The 1975” also publicly addresses climate issues and political controversies through tracks like “Love It If We Made It.” When Healy mumbles “Consultation, degradation, fossil fuelling, immigration” like a rap, it contrasts with the bright and uptempo backing track and underscores the message even more.
The verses also encompass media obsession and inequality. In “Love It If We Made It,” the lyrics “Modernity has failed us, but I’d love it if we made it” explicitly show both frustration towards the world and a lingering sense of hope left for future generations – an irony that captures the essence of the band’s identity.
However, being a fan isn’t always easy when the band, particularly the lead singer Matty Healy, makes headlines for all the wrong reasons.
On Sept. 6 2019, after a performance in South Korea, Matty posted a photo on Instagram of himself stepping on a Korean flag that he received as a gift. He initially posted the picture with an emoji of the flag, and when criticized, he commented, “I got it, so it’s mine.” His actions not only drove away his Korean fans but also caused him to lose the trust of his original supporters. When the criticism persisted, he deleted the photo on his X account but gave no further apology.
As a fan of the famous saying, “Separate the art from the artist,” I find Healy’s honesty and outspokenness refreshing. Perhaps that’s why so many fans stay — the imperfections make them real. They don’t just craft songs about love, anxiety and the digital age; they embody those struggles. In a culture where cancellations and redemptions happen overnight, their chaos feels oddly familiar. However, Healy’s actions sometimes spiral into reckless or dismissive behavior, distancing even some of the band’s most devoted fans.
With a new album on the horizon, it’s the perfect time to dive back into the band’s soundscape. It’s worth giving the work a listen — you might just find something that resonates, chaos and all.
