Replay: I Sing Along to fun.’s ‘Some Nights’ Most Nights

In third grade, I used to regularly sing “Some Nights” by fun. in the shower. I thought my mom would eavesdrop and be deeply moved by my natural talent. I expected she’d send my information to a record label as soon as possible.

But no agent came knocking on my door asking for the gifted young miss from the shower in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Maybe I didn’t perform loud enough for my mom to hear me — there’s no other possible explanation as to why I’m not currently a pop star. 

The pop-rock group fun. is composed of three members — Jack Antonoff, Andrew Dost and Nate Ruess. They rose to prominence with their 2012 album “Some Nights” and have been on hiatus since 2015 — but I’m still holding onto a sliver of hope they’ll reunite.

The album begins with “Some Nights – Intro.” This track introduces listeners to the general themes of loss and tumultuous relationships, which are present in every song of the album. Accompanying Ruess’ vocals are operatic trills, screams and murmurs of a disembodied crowd.

The titular track of “Some Nights” tells the story of a young protagonist overcome by heart-wrenching, existential angst — a concept unfamiliar to me in elementary school, but one I sang along to in the shower anyway.

“But I still wake up, I still see your ghost / Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for,” lead vocalist Ruess sings.

Perhaps my mom should’ve sent my information to a child psychologist instead of a talent scout.

“We Are Young,” featuring Janelle Monáe, is the band’s most popular song with over one billion streams on Spotify. The song opens with the heavy beats of a drum, playing along with the narrative of a heart-pounding, exhilarating night spent at the bar with friends.

During karaoke nights in my family’s basement, I hiked up my Children’s Place shorts, tucked my hair behind newly-pierced ears and howled the song like I was 20-something living in New York City. 

As a song of perseverance and grit, “Carry On” has become my anthem during the school year — though the lyrics are more somber than my own personal problems. While Ruess sings about mortality and healing from a failed relationship, I think about conquering my next essay.

“If you’re lost and alone or you’re sinkin’ like a stone / Carry on / May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground and / Carry on,” Ruess sings.

The fourth track “It Gets Better” unfortunately doesn’t live up to its name — it doesn’t get better. The song gets skipped as soon as I hear the harsh beats of an electronic drum and the whiney pitch of overused auto-tune. 

The smooth strum of guitar opens “Why Am I the One” as Ruess laments the loss of a withering love. In one verse the music fades to a duet between gentle piano keys and Ruess’ voice, signaling a quiet moment of introspection. 

“All Alone” details a heartbroken lover reminiscing upon a past relationship. His hours are spent with a wind-up souvenir that reminds him of a former sweetheart. But the toy can’t compare to his lost love as Ruess criticizes the doll’s inanimate eyes and painted smile.

“She’s a lot like you / But when I hold her too tight, I know she’ll break / She just takes some glue to stay,” Ruess sings.

In my fourth grade project titled “Get to Know Me,” I proclaimed my favorite song to be “All Alone.” The reasoning behind this choice was scant — I didn’t even know the whole song, I only remembered the chorus.

“I feel so all alone / No one’s gonna fix me when I’m broke,” Ruess sings.

I wasn’t a sad child — I wasn’t burdened by the weight of the world at the ripe age of eight. I was just a melodramatic elementary schooler.

When told to finish my vegetables or get ready for bed, I thought of this song mournfully. It seemed the only people truly capable of putting my grievances down in words were three 30-year-old men. I believed just as fun. was hardened by the woes of life, so was I.

“All Alright” and “One Foot” follow similar themes of walking through life feeling empty. But while “All Alright” utilizes the soft trill of stringed instruments, “One Foot” leans into the energetic spirit of brass.

“I put one foot in front of the other one / I don’t need a new love or a new life, just a better place to die,” Ruess sings.

“Stars,” the album’s penultimate track, begins with a reintroduction to the beat of “Some Nights” before falling into its own rhythm. I only enjoy the first third of this song, as Ruess soon devolves into an auto-tuned shadow of himself around the two-minute mark.

The album closes with the bonus track “Out on the Town” — another song narrating the misery and regret of an ex-relationship. I don’t have any strong memories regarding this track, so I’ve taken joy in rediscovering it. 

Perhaps it’ll become my new shower song — this time meant to amaze my roommate. 

“Some Nights” is available to stream on all major platforms.