i still feel

At its core, 'i still feel' is a deeply philosophical exploration of the tension between eternity and finitude. Leoniden's frontman Jakob Amr uses the song to grapple with the inevitable nature of death and the human desire for permanence. The song poses a central existential dilemma through the lines, 'But Bjork gets old while Kurt stays young / How can I have both?' This contrasts the artistic paths of living a long, evolving life (like Bjork) versus dying at a creative peak to remain forever crystallized in youth (like Kurt Cobain). The band's ultimate conclusion is a passionate desire to experience both—to have the longevity of life without losing the fiery, immortal spark of youth.

Another major theme is the crushing weight of perspective, captured by the metaphor of being born with 'fish eyes.' This suggests a warped, wide-angle view of the world that makes the narrator feel painfully small when they zoom out to look at the grand scheme of things. To counter this existential dread, the song rejects superficial promises of 'forever'. Instead, the repetition of 'I still feel' serves as a grounded, visceral anchor. Even when life feels meaningless and the mind is filled with denial, the raw, undefinable capacity to feel remains the ultimate proof of being alive. It is a defiant celebration of the present moment in the face of absolute mortality.

The narrator begins with a profound, almost jarring realization: they are starting to find a strange, comforting beauty in the concept of death. This perspective arises from the idea that in passing, one's creative vision and legacy become frozen in time, preventing a person from ever outliving or diluting their own ideas. This paradox is illustrated through a vivid cultural comparison between Bjork and Kurt Cobain. While the legendary Icelandic singer Bjork represents the slow, graceful trajectory of aging and continuously evolving, Cobain represents the tragic allure of the 'Club 27'—destined to remain eternally young and immortalized in his peak. The narrator finds themselves torn between these two paths, asking a deeply human and unanswerable question: how can they possess both longevity and eternal, pristine youth?

The narrative then pivots to a confrontation with a partner or society's obsession with permanence. Whenever someone brings up the concept of 'forever' or eternal love, the speaker feels compelled to ground them in reality, offering a stark reminder that physical existence is fleeting and everyone eventually dies. This sense of mortality is compounded by an overwhelming feeling of insignificance. When the narrator tries to view the world from a broader, cosmic perspective—zooming out—they feel incredibly tiny. This distorted, wide-angle perception is metaphorically blamed on being born with 'fish eyes,' an anatomical trait that forces them to perceive their surroundings with an overwhelming, warped sense of scale and distance.

Despite this crushing existential weight, the chorus introduces a powerful counter-narrative of resilience and intuition. The narrator admits to clinging tightly to an elusive, intangible feeling. It is a sensation they cannot quite define or articulate with words, yet it persists with a fierce intensity. They simply 'still feel' it, suggesting a deep, raw connection to life that refuses to be extinguished by intellectual doubts or the inevitability of death.

In the bridge, the narrator reflects on the chaotic nature of contemporary existence and the disconnect within their own mind. They describe a state where they have never truly felt standard, societal notions of being 'alive' or having their thoughts align perfectly in real-time. Stripped of all distractions, the speaker is left with nothing but a microphone in their bag and a mind plagued by denial. Yet, in this state of self-preservation and mental isolation, the core truth remains unchanged. Even amidst denial and the certainty of their own demise, they continue to grasp at that undefinable, sacred spark of feeling, choosing to dance and sing as their final, defiant act against the ticking clock of existence.

'i still feel' was officially released as a single on June 5, 2026, under the independent record label Euphorie. Written and composed by the band members themselves (Jakob Amr, Lennart Eicke, Felix Eicke, Dinnies Keefe, and Jannis Abendroth), the song was born out of deep existential reflections during a transitional phase for the Kiel-based indie-rock outfit. According to frontman Jakob Amr, the song was inspired by a sudden, intense awareness of mortality: 'It is actually impossible to fully comprehend that life is finite; I still have not completely grasped the concept.'

The creation of the track is closely tied to its groundbreaking, highly taxing music video—often described as one of the most exhausting music videos ever made. Directed and conceived as a piece of endurance-based performance art, the band performed the song live in a continuous, three-hour loop under the open sky, repeating the track over 50 times without any breaks. The performance featured a massive, two-meter-tall wooden padlock representing traditional love locks and the illusion of eternal bonds. Throughout the performance, Amr systematically used three different hand axes to hack away at the giant padlock, finally shattering it to pieces. This intense physical display physically mirrored the song's themes of breaking down the concept of 'forever' and embracing physical decay and exhaustion as forms of artistic expression.

The lyrical structure of 'i still feel' largely eschews traditional, rigid rhyme schemes in favor of a fluid, rhythmic free verse approach that mirrors natural thought patterns. In the verses, Leoniden employs subtle slant rhymes (such as 'time' and 'die', or 'out' and 'eyes') to maintain a cohesive sound without sounding overly polished or artificial. The bridge, however, shifts into a rapid-fire delivery with tighter, punchy end-rhymes ('alive' / 'time' / 'denial' and 'right' / 'mic'), heightening the listener's heart rate.

Rhythmically, the song is built upon a high-energy, uptempo club beat with a driving 4/4 time signature. This fast pacing creates an interesting tension: the rapid tempo acts like a ticking clock, reinforcing the song's thematic obsession with the passage of time and sudden mortality. The driving rhythm forces the vocals and instrumentals to charge forward together, demanding a visceral, physical response from the listener that mirrors the frantic act of staying alive.

Leoniden masterfully bridges literary depth and danceable indie-rock through several stylistic choices:

Literary Techniques: The song relies heavily on contrast and juxtaposition, balancing heavy philosophical questions of death with upbeat pop culture references. The use of a rhetorical question ('how can I have both?') directly engages the listener in the existential dilemma. Furthermore, the abrupt tone shifts—such as moving from the intellectual comparison of Cobain and Bjork to the blunt declaration 'I will remind you that we die'—create a sense of urgent, unfiltered honesty.

Musical Techniques: Musically, the song is a hybrid of indie-rock and synth-driven disco. It opens with a glittery, slightly melancholic, retro-sounding synthesizer melody (described as 'Bontempi-esque') that sits atop a wild, driving, and highly percussive club beat. This serves as a sonic juxtaposition: while the lyrics deal with anxiety and mortality, the instrumentation compels the listener to dance. Jakob Amr's vocal delivery is incredibly dynamic, shifting seamlessly from melodic, vulnerable verses to explosive, high-energy choruses that carry an almost frantic, shouting urgency.

Despite its release on June 5, 2026, 'i still feel' instantly captured the attention of the indie music scene, primarily due to its radical, boundary-pushing music video. By performing the song in a grueling, three-hour continuous loop for the video, Leoniden created a viral performance art piece that stood as a bold counter-statement to the fast-paced, bite-sized music consumption of the streaming era. The feat was widely covered by European music outlets, solidifying their reputation as one of the most innovative and physically enduring live acts in modern indie rock.

The single immediately became a fan favorite, further expanding the band's discography following their highly successful 2024 album Sophisticated Sad Songs, which had reached number two on the German charts. In summer 2026, the song became a staple of their high-octane live sets, drawing massive crowds at major European tastemaker events like the Best Kept Secret festival in the Netherlands, where Leoniden shared the stage with legendary acts like the Gorillaz and Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

The lyrics and visual representation of 'i still feel' are laden with powerful metaphors and cultural symbolism:

• Bjork vs. Kurt Cobain: This cultural juxtaposition serves as a metaphor for the dual pathways of creative and personal existence. Bjork symbolizes longevity, aging, and continuous artistic evolution, while Kurt Cobain represents the tragic allure of the 'Club 27'—burning out at one's peak to remain eternally young. The question 'how can I have both?' highlights the ultimate human desire to achieve both a long, meaningful life and the timeless coolness of youth.
• Fish eyes: Typically associated with ultra-wide-angle lenses that distort the periphery, this metaphor illustrates a warped cognitive perspective. The speaker feels overwhelmed and intensely small when viewing their life in a grand, cosmic context, unable to perceive reality through a standard, comforting focus.
• The Giant Padlock: Featured prominently in the song's conceptual music video, the two-meter-tall wooden padlock symbolizes the illusion of permanence, such as love locks on bridges. Smashing this lock with hand axes metaphorically represents dismantling the false construct of 'forever' and physically embracing the end of all things.
• The Microphone and Denial: Having 'just a mic' in a bag and 'just denial' in the head represents stripping away life's superficialities to find comfort in raw expression and psychological self-preservation, using art as a shield against existential dread.

Several powerful motifs and phrases recur throughout the track to cement its philosophical message:

• 'I still feel': Repeated dozens of times as the central anchor of the chorus, this phrase functions as a mantra of pure survival. In a world full of confusion, aging, and existential dread, the act of feeling is the only undeniable truth the narrator has left to hold onto.
• 'If you say forever one more time, I will remind you that we die': This blunt warning is repeated across both verses, acting as a direct confrontation against the romanticized, human delusion of permanence. It serves as a grounding mechanism to force the partner—and the listener—to live in the immediate present.
• 'Fish eyes': Representing distorted peripheral vision, this recurring visual motif highlights the speaker's inability to view life through a standard lens, symbolizing an overwhelming feeling of cosmic insignificance that they cannot shake off.