On Aug. 22, 2025, Dominic Fike released his 12-track, 26 minute- long mixtape “Rocket.” Although it was released in late August, I had first heard one of the songs—and one of my favorites—live at Fike’s Lollapalooza set weeks prior. The mixtape named after his son, Rocket, came nearly a year after Fike’s 14 minute EP, “14 minutes,” and over two years after his studio album “Sunburn” became the anthem to my summer of ‘23. While a little more melancholic in sound than “Sunburn,” “Rocket” opens an introspective window to Fike’s music and continues the intense storytelling he’s had throughout his discography.  

The mixtape opens with “All Hands on Deck.” An organ and piano played by Sam Homaee leads the instrumental into a sentimental sound that emotionally mimics sunlight. The creative and sporadic lyricism contrasts yet blends perfectly with the emotion of the instrumental. Fike sings of desiring connection in the beginning and very end of the song, “I want your germs, ‘Sick’ is a word” “I wanna inhabit your safe zone.” 

He simultaneously speaks of taking the initiative to better your life and opportunities, as if he’s reciting and reflecting on what he’s been told and his own experiences, “So try your hardest, you stale and starving dying artist.” He appreciates life, even when it isn’t going how it should or how people say it should, “So, make your living, make your missus happy.” On this track–which happens to be one of my favorites–he manages to be self-deprecating on top of a soft guitar and winsome keys.  

On many of the songs on “Rocket,” Fike sings in the context of a relationship. Whether it’s specifically about a woman or about how he felt in a relationship, “Aftermath – Edit” highlights conformity, self-sabotaging and running away along a slow and upbeat instrumental ending in a satisfyingly drawn out guitar riff. On the emotional flipside, “Smile” introduces a wholeheartedly positive outlook on past romantic endeavors. In the song, Fike expresses how he happily co-exists in his life without his lover, and he still misses her, but it happens in a way where he can feel that without disdain, “But it don’t weigh me down / To know I love you dearly / Just make me smile / When I’m alone.” Instead, it makes him smile. 

Finally, “Sandman” introduces a bright, enthusiastically romantic feeling into the album. Listening to the album in order and getting to this song feels like going down a steep waterslide–antsy and anticipating until you’re rushing down wanting to go one more time–but maybe a little less dramatic. Fike serenades about wanting to be chosen by someone he desires, “Come be my drifter, my lonely listener / My only wish, to be on your list.” 

It’s almost childlike and imaginative the way he sings, as if he’s on his knees at the foot of his bed, wishing upon the sandman for the one he wants. My favorite line from this song is, “Watchin’ all the shells get taken off of the shore / By the pressure from the swell, as we sink into the floor / I would tell you more but first…” Maybe it makes no sense, but I think it works. 

Like “All Hands on Deck,” “Great Pretender” resumes Fike’s reflection about his previous romances, speculated to be about actress Hunter Schafer. He speaks of how she doesn’t physically convey how she truly is and feels on the inside, but he sees all of her. He speaks fondly of how he remembers their relationship while consciously–or unconsciously admitting his faults. His faults are admitted in an unconscious and kind of ironic way through the lines “You’ll always have something I desire / I’ll be your right hand and your provider.” “Great Pretender” is one of my favorites, transporting the emotions I felt hearing it the first time live like some kind of wizard zap. 

“$500 Fine” reads like regretful recollections with “If I didn’t’s…” and “I could’ve’s…” Ironically, the lyrics include reasons and excuses for why things didn’t work out well, rather than outspoken development to turn “If’s” into something better. “One Glass” continues about Fike’s muse with an experimental vocal, a coastal sounding instrumental and lyrics turning to a sad kind of desire, “I’ll have one glass, I swear / ‘Cause if she’s there, I’ll need it / If you’re not my girlfriend by the time the world ends / And if it ever comes back around / I’ll stop this song right now.” 

“Quite the Opposite” is a reflection of destructive behavior. He sings of intentionally avoiding–or doing the opposite, centering himself in his relationship to appeal to his partner. However, it backfires as he only continues to do so. Even when he does so, he can’t resolve it because he can only do exactly the opposite of what his partner wants, “ I don’t know why I made a sorry song / When you never wanted one / But it’s all because I love you.”It doesn’t work, yet it’s always happening. “I never thought it would backfire / And I’d make it all about me / And now you’re havin’ a bad time / Because I made it all about me / Once again (and I always do).” 

Fike looks inward in “Upset & Aggressive.” He’s been left behind with his emotions, feeling outcasted and rolled over. So, he tries to bring who he’s longing for to his level of upset, saying he wasn’t the sole instigator or bad apple of the relationship. Even then–when they don’t care, he still wants to be by their side. 

Similarly in “David Lyons,” named after the character in the 1989 “See No Evil, Hear No Evil” film, Fike attempts to take the negative light off of himself after his relationship, essentially commenting on how his partner was perceived to be non-contributing to the negative aspects of their relationship. He tries to deflect the backlash he receives with an almost childish and deprecating, “But you’re so pretty, you’re so perfect / And I’m so miserable and worth whatever you decide.” He falls into a vocal read like a poem while defending himself and his behavior in what is one of my favorite parts of any song–ever. Sadly, in somewhat gaslighting fashion, Fike says, “Calling me a codependent, cohabitating, collaborating with the other team / Back it up with real science, what’s a gaslighter / I’m a human being, not a grill appliance.”Albeit unintentionally (or intentionally, who knows) humorous, Fike expresses how even when there were signs that others could have seen to lighten his load of blame, he didn’t see them either. 

“Epilogue” is Fike’s observation of his own patterns and habits, concluding with an airy, “Oh, whatever,” and a kalimba and acoustic guitar led instrumental that mimics rainfall. Concluding the mixtape is “Still Feel It,” a short, kind of sweet, heartfelt ballad concluding a relationship. Fike admits the wrongs of the relationship and recognizes they both feel from the experience. The song continues the same emotional, sentiment-filled instrumental that leads into “All Hands on Deck,” which fulfills the full-circle-feeling of listening to a completed and dedicated work of art. My favorite aspect of the mixtape was how different it sounds from his other work, yet still maintains his signature features. He continues to tell a story, even finishing some, while setting his audience up for a more developed composition. Transitioning from “Sunburn” to “Rocket” gives me a feeling thats similar to stepping into sunlight. While it isn’t as consistently upbeat as “Sunburn” was, its unique within its own right and has been in my daily rotation since it’s release.