In today's viral world, Clinton Kane is considered one of YouTube's many success stories. But in reality, YouTube didn't kick-start his career as a singer/songwriter — a panic attack did.
Kane experienced his first panic attack in September 2018. Though he had been posting covers of songs like the Weeknd's "Call Out My Name" on YouTube earlier that year, he had never really thought about writing and releasing his own music. But in that moment of panic, all he could think to do was pick up a guitar and sing about what he was feeling.
The resulting song was "this is what anxiety feels like," a tender acoustic track that recounted exactly what he was dealing with: "I can't breathe/ I can't sleep/ And what is this feeling I feel inside of me?"
While his musicality wasn't exactly a fluke — the son of a Hillsong Church pastor, Kane learned to play several instruments at church growing up — he hadn't been able to write a song. Yet he finished "this is what anxiety feels like" in 20 minutes, and the song changed his life in more ways than one.
"When I finished the song, it all just went away," Kane remembers. "After that, it was this constant need for me — for all the bottled up feelings in my life, that I experienced throughout my childhood — for four months, every day, I would just write by myself. I just really needed to get my feelings out."
Kane landed a record deal with Columbia Records in 2019. His songs have since amassed millions of streams and hundreds of thousands of followers. Now, four years after Kane first picked up a pen, he's celebrating the release of his debut album.
MAYBE SOMEDAY IT'LL ALL BE OK is a nine-song depiction of what makes Clinton Kane special: heart-on-his-sleeve vulnerability, evocative storytelling, and a dynamic voice to boot. And while his stories are oftentimes gut-wrenching, perhaps what makes Kane's music resonate so intensely is the fact his career was born out of an alarming, yet organic moment.
"I was very confused — still confused to this day," Kane jokes about his unexpected talent discovery. He has the charisma of someone who has been trying to make it in the industry since they were a child, and a surprising sense of humor that is unsurprisingly self-deprecating, yet magnetic.
It's a remarkable thing, really, considering the past year he's experienced. As Kane detailed in an open letter upon announcing the album earlier this month, he lost his mother, father and brother in 2021. "I disappeared and shut down. Who wouldn't?" he wrote. "I needed to put work aside to discover who I was again."
Kane had already been on a self-discovery journey at that point, thanks in part to what is arguably his most autobiographical song to date, "14." The verses outline his life from 14 to 20 in vivid detail, with the chorus conveying his inner struggle: "And I wish I was somebody else/ Just to feel like I'm enough for myself/ And I've been fightin' with who I am inside my head/ And I don't know me anymore."
"That one was definitely daunting," he admits. "It was just too much of a personal feeling that I wanted people to know." He quickly follows up with a classic Clinton quip: "I mean, now they know, so f— me."
Brutal honesty has never been an issue for Kane. ("I've gotten into lots of trouble before with ex girlfriends," he laughs.) And along with being a naturally straightforward person, he's also never been afraid to be emotional. Though he's part of a wave of successful male artists who are hyper-vulnerable — Lewis Capaldi, Dean Lewis, Conan Gray, among others — Kane insists his upbringing debunked notions of toxic masculinity long before it began happening in the mainstream.
"I grew up very open about my feelings — it was okay for me to feel," he recalls. "I grew up with my mom, my dad wasn't in the picture for most of my life. It was more than okay to be emotional. I am very emotional. It's just been a lifestyle for me."
Even so, Kane acknowledges that his relationship with his mother was always a bit strained. He didn't go into too much detail during our chat, but did reveal that MAYBE SOMEDAY IT'LL ALL BE OK tracks "CHICKEN TENDIES" and "I WISH I COULD HATE YOU FOR BREAKING ME AND CALLING IT LOVE" are about their relationship — not a romantic relationship, as the narratives may insinuate. (When I ask if there are any other songs with unexpected meanings, he gives yet another droll response: "Everything else is just about women.")
On top of his family problems, Kane moved to a different country every three years, attending 20 schools throughout his childhood. His biracial background — his mother was Norwegian and his father was Filipino, plus he has a slight Australian accent because of his Perth origins — didn't help with trying to fit in. As he shared in another open letter upon releasing "14," "Since I was 10, I grew up asking myself every single day, 'WHAT THE F— IS WRONG WITH ME?'"
As Kane has continued to write and release music, he has gradually let go of that disparaging feeling. But what ultimately set him free was the expedited growth he experienced after losing three relatives in a row.
"At some point after that, I just realized, why am I going to be ashamed of who I am? Why am I ashamed of the way I look? Why am I ashamed of the way I sound?" he says. "There's a lot of people that love me, and I don't need any more f—ing validation."
Along the way, he found the perfect name for his fans: family. "To see how everyone listens to my music and how my fans care for me," he says, "at the end of the day, I'm just like, 'This feels like family, and that's what it is.'"
The relationship is certainly mutual, as Kane says he receives daily messages about how his music has impacted — and even changed — some of his fans' lives. What started as a simple outlet for him is serving the same purpose for others, letting them know they're not alone in what they're feeling. "That's all I strive for with putting my music out," he says.
And when it comes to MAYBE SOMEDAY IT'LL ALL BE OK, Kane has sonic documentation of the most challenging year of his life. But now, he's able to view it with a more optimistic mindset — just as the title suggests.
"I look at [the album], and I'm like, "Holy s—. I don't understand how a person has gone through all that s— and is still able to function as a normal human being. And in my head I'm like," he pauses, "that's f—ing crazy. Like, whatever happens, whatever comes my way, I'll always be able to figure it out."