When Måneskin won the Eurovision Song Contest in 2021, it catapulted the band into a never-ending storm of success. It soon became apparent to an international audience that the Italian glam-rockers ticked all the rock ’n’ roll boxes: sex appeal, riffs, attitude. In no time, the band had become the faces of the global rock mainstream – and tracks like ‘I Wanna Be Your Slave’ and their resurgent 2017 cover of The Four Seasons’ ‘Beggin’’ ensured they stayed there.
However, in the eye of that storm, it wasn’t all plain sailing for frontman Damiano David. Despite conquering stages including London’s O2 Arena and Verona’s iconic Roman amphitheatre, looking out to thousands of fans, the burnout of this unstoppable rock’n’roll train had caught up with him. As the touring cycle for 2023’s ‘Rush!’ wound down, it became apparent to David – and his bandmates – that they all needed to step back.
“I never felt my onstage persona and my real persona distancing, but that’s actually what was happening,” he admits, speaking to NME at the very end of a flying visit to London. “Nearly 10 years have gone by [since Måneskin formed], and I was changing during these years, but I was so busy that I couldn’t see it. As soon as I was close to stopping, because the tour was coming to an end, I really felt that separation.”
To allow time for Damiano David – the individual – to catch up with the frontman of Måneskin, he moved to LA in search of some stability, away from his circle and surroundings, to write his debut solo album. The result is last month’s ‘Funny Little Fears’, the most soul-baring access to David we’ve had to date, as he acknowledges the anxieties that have been whirring around his subconscious while everything may have looked glossy on the outside.
David joined NME for the latest edition of our In Conversation series to discuss the album, working with the likes of Suki Waterhouse and D4vd, and what the future holds for Måneskin.
NME: Hello Damiano. When you head back to LA, does it now feel like you’re going home?
Damiano David: “It feels like I’m going home, because in the last six years of my life, I’ve been travelling so much. Even in Rome, I was staying in apartments. I lived out of suitcases in the last five years. My [LA] apartment is the first place where I’ve actually opened the suitcases. I’m buying furniture, it’s starting to look like my house. I live there with my partner [Dove Cameron].”
What does a sense of home mean to you, at this stage of your life?
“I felt the lack of a place that I could call home in the last few years. It does some weird tricks, chemically, to your brain, to never undo your suitcases. You never get to build a community and have a social life when you’re travelling all the time.”
What prompted your move to LA to write a solo record?
“We wrote part of [Måneskin’s ‘Rush!’] in LA, and I enjoyed it on a human and professional level. When I started doing the record, I knew that I couldn’t make it in Italy, because I’m stuck in my everyday dynamics, and I needed a place where I could have a fresh start. It was not completely unknown for me, but at the same time, I had everything to discover. It was this compromise between two things that really allowed me to feel comfortable, but at the same time, I had to force myself to get out of my comfort zone and meet people.”
You mention having a fresh start – what does freshness mean to you, given the pace of the past four years?
“Even before Eurovision, we had such a fast growth in Italy. Our life has been about opportunities coming, and us trying to get them all because we were 18 to 20 years old, full of energy and enthusiasm. I don’t regret anything. I just came to the point where my energy and enthusiasm was lower. I was really facing the pressure, the anxiety, the fatigue, and I needed a fresh start. I needed to get back to writing music only for the purpose of writing it, and leaving it as a game.”
Does that resonate with why you started writing music in the first place
“When I was a teenager, it was about expression, but also… not getting attention, because that sounds bad, but stating myself, making myself exist. I came to a point in my life where I wanted to be less visible and constantly under the spotlight.”
Four years down the line from Eurovision, are you at peace with the whole period?
“I never felt touched by, let’s say, the negative, all the rumours, because I learned very early in my career that the bigger the thing, the bigger the [criticism]. It was evidence that what we did was big, and it still is. I never felt offended. Eurovision, for me, it’s a beautiful memory. It’s a moment that changed our [lives], then at the same time, I don’t think we owe everything to Eurovision. It was teamwork – we did something for Eurovision, and Eurovision definitely did something for us.”
Let’s get into ‘Funny Little Fears’. Is there something in merely expressing and voicing your fears, versus the brave, courageous individual who faces up to them? Where do you sit along that line?
“I think that everybody has fears, and it’s beautiful to think that we are always able to face them – that’s the ideal. But reality is made of layers, and there’s moments where we’re not able to even face a small fear because we are weakened by something, we’re fragile. For me, this record worked more as a way to face my fears and get over them. It was more to recognise them. When I have a problem in my brain, there’s a lot going on… 100 different people giving different opinions. Having a blank sheet and writing, my brain is forced to focus on the main thought. Music is a way to silence things and focus the lens on one or two things.”
Vocally, did you have to get comfortable with such an exposed style on a song like ‘Solitude (No One Understands Me)’?
“The truth is, I don’t really know what I’m doing! I’m not a very technical singer, like a Charlie Puth. I envy them a little bit. It’s all about using my body and voice as an intensive and dynamic way to express the message. That song sounds like a conversation, it’s more like a journal page than song lyrics. It felt normal for me to whisper and dynamically build up towards the end, because it’s liberation. Words, melodies, intensity and body language all come together for me, and it’s very automatic and instinctive, the way I treat it.”
On the flip side, ‘Tango’ and ‘Voices’ mask their darker subject matter with more upbeat pop – how do those things coexist for you?
“I’m not sad 24/7. It’s a huge spectrum of emotions, and I always felt like sad songs don’t necessarily have to be ballads, because the feeling is way more complicated. If you listen to it distracted, you want to dance, and then if you think about the words, you’re like, ‘should I be dancing?’ It gives it that layer of complexity that [makes it] more human.”
You mentioned recognising your fears – what about a “tango with the fear”?
“Dance with your fears. You don’t have to solve it necessarily in that moment. You can be with it for a while, let it flow in your body and see what happens.”
How did you end up working with D4vd and Suki Waterhouse?
“I always thought D4vd has something special. I love it when young people are doing great, because I see myself six years ago, being super enthusiastic. I always want to work with people I respect, because it’s about [bringing] music to the playful level. We’re two kids writing a song, it’s fun, and there’s no pressure. I have to be myself, but I also have to make the other person shine, which is a very beautiful exercise, also, to deal with your ego.
“The same happened with Suki. When [‘The Bruise’] was over, I knew I wanted a female voice in it, and the type of tone I needed was a perfect [match] with what she does. She has this very ethereal way of singing and producing her music.”
Where are you at now, personally?
“I’m in a much happier, aware place. Sometimes, certain feelings come back, but now I have the tools to recognise them and place them in parts of my brain. But I truly hope to keep struggling in my life, because it means that I’m moved by something, I’m passionate. It’s a constant process of trying to better ourselves, and it’s OK if we sometimes struggle.”
Have you got a second solo album in the works?
“It’s not in the works, because I’m not Superman! I’m going to do another one, for sure. I don’t know when, I don’t know if I’m going to do it before one with the band again, a movie – I keep every door [open].”
A movie?
“Why not? People ask me about it.”
How do you envisage a future solo album sounding?
“I have no idea – and I love having no idea. There’s other parts of myself that I can definitely share.”
Is your 2026 looking busy?
“Kind of. The [solo] tour ends at the end of 2025. I should rest.”
When Måneskin do return, will you be implementing anything to ensure things don’t spiral out of control like last time?
“I know my needs better now, and I know that they know their needs better now. We’re grown up. Between us, we can communicate better and keep everything more doable and healthy.”
What do you think of bassist Victoria De Angelis’ solo music?
“She’s sick. Best DJ in the world.”
What did the rest of the band think of ‘Funny Little Fears’?
“They heard the record when it was in the making. They loved some things, they hated some things! It’s what I expected.”
What circumstances need to be in place for Måneskin to start writing music again?
“We have to all be well-rested. I think the first thing we do has to be something that we really feel in our guts, and that doesn’t feel like work at all. That’s the ideal [scenario].”
Damiano David’s ‘Funny Little Fears’ is out now