On Oct. 30, Dominic Fike returned with his third studio album, “HOW TO QUIT SMOKING.” Known for his experimentation with sounds from different genres, particularly indie-rock and hip-hop, Fike has consistently released new music, releasing a new project each year since 2023: “Sunburn” in 2023, “14 minutes” in 2024, and “Rocket” in 2025. Several of his singles, including “Babydoll” from his debut EP “Don’t Forget About Me, Demos” have also taken the internet by storm as trending audio tracks, helping establish Fike as a global sensation.

“HOW TO QUIT SMOKING,” as the title suggests, conveys Fike’s desire to turn over a new leaf. Fike has spoken candidly about his struggles with substance abuse and their impact on his work, including filming HBO’s “Euphoria.” Earlier this year, the artist also revealed that he has a son, whom he credited with strengthening his commitment to sobriety. Rather than presenting recovery as a sudden transformation, the album is steeped in nostalgia and showcases Fike’s growth through moments from his everyday life.

Compared to Fike’s previous two releases, “HOW TO QUIT SMOKING” features lengthier and more structured songs. For example, “WALLFLOWER” and “PANGEA” follow the standard modern pop song structure of verse, pre-chorus, and chorus, before cycling back through the same sequence. Also worth noting is the stylization of each of the song titles. With all uppercase letters, the shift is a small but meaningful first glance at this new era of Fike’s music and his readiness to make a bold statement.

Interestingly, the assertiveness conveyed through the song titles does not necessarily carry over to the album’s subject matter. Rather than offering grand philosophical revelations about sobriety, Fike’s lyrics explore the seemingly inconsequential aspects of life. For example, in “PANGEA,” Fike uses descriptive imagery in his atonal rap section: “I’m on road tracking to be trending like Labubus on Coach bags / In heaven, two-stepping with no sign of a toe tag / But I just want to see you with no frills and no mask.” By referencing objects that have become ubiquitous in contemporary culture, namely Labubus and Coach handbags, Fike anchors thoughts of mortality in fleeting, commercial noise, poking fun at modern materialism.

His observations not only resonate with listeners but also paint him as a down-to-earth and genuine person. This casual, unfiltered approach is part of the album’s charm — it serves as a window into Fike’s life not as a celebrity, but simply as a human being living in a world that occasionally takes itself too seriously.

Sonically, “HOW TO QUIT SMOKING” retains Fike’s signature use of voice distortion. In “DOOMSDAY,” he digitally alters his voice to give it a nasal, baby-like quality, resulting in a playful and endearing mood. Additionally, the album’s closer, “SPOTLIGHT / INNER CHILD,” consists of a three-minute spoken word section with a recurring instrumental background. From time to time, Fike tweaks the controls which cause the words to become garbled. In particular, when he says, “Well, you know I’m quitting, right, I’m tryna quit smoking,” he introduces an alien-like sound effect. While this surprise keeps the passage engaging, its humorous nature undercuts the vulnerability of the moment.

One of the album’s strengths lies in Fike’s unabashed expressions of love, which capture a sense of nostalgia for the sincerity and intensity of teenage romance. In “HONEYLOVE,” Fike invites musician Grace Ives to sing a heartfelt confession with him. Her voice blends seamlessly with his, resulting in the ballad’s soft, mesmerizing tone.

Fike’s verses are overwhelming in their honesty and yearning, particularly in the lines, “Break me up, put yourself in my skin / I want you to be my skeleton / I want you to eat my DNA, mm.” The visceral imagery of the human body, coupled with the action phrases “break me up” and “eat my DNA,” expresses an almost consuming desire for intimacy and emotional vulnerability, exemplifying Fike’s ability to turn deep personal feelings into profoundly affecting music.

Overall, “HOW TO QUIT SMOKING” is less of a grand declaration of transformation than it is an intimate portrait of an artist navigating adulthood, love, and sobriety. The album’s endearing lyrics, playful experimentation, and moments of vulnerability make it compelling and relatable. Perhaps its greatest achievement is not showing listeners who Fike has become, but allowing them to witness the artist he is still becoming.

—Staff writer Sophie Tung can be reached at [email protected].