Alex Runo dives into the flames on his new effort, which is called “Icarus.” Channeling the legendary figure who flew too close to the sun, the song does more than recount a cautionary tale, it inhabits one. This is not a gentle descent. It’s a crash and a reckoning.
“Icarus” grapples with the dangers of ignoring warnings and pursuing aspiration beyond the point of safety. The downfall comes weighed down by failure, shame, and helplessness. It’s a trammel to the shittiest circumstances, and you can feel all of that collapse in each note. But Runo doesn’t remain buried in the wreckage. Instead, he moves through the wreckage, seeking something irreverent, something potent.
Constructed as a marauding blues anthem, the track pulls listeners through both changing time signatures and emotional terrain. The dynamic shifts are intentional and taut, capturing the push-pull between soaring ambition and crushing tragedy, fury and hard-won resilience. One minute you’re buoyed by euphoric determination, the next, your throat is bare with exposure.
“Icarus” has a thrum of hope, it’s a song about falling, sure, but also how you fall. Runo’s declaration states, as in "Icarus," i’m falling, but i don’t leave without my crown. It is a line that makes defeat into defiance, and one that rings out as we remember that dignity can withstand the most bitter fall.

0 Comments