"People and the media kind of imprisoned me in this character of the fearless, bold rock star — which, sometimes I am," says Måneskin singer turned solo star Damiano David. "It's me, but it's not my 100 percent."

With Funny Little Fears (out May 16), David wants to introduce the world to his inner multitudes. When he's not the leather- and eyeliner-clad frontman of Italy's most popular rock band, the 26-year-old is a pop aficionado with a theatrical flair — and as his debut album shows, he's working on figuring out who he wants to be.

"I've been afraid of myself, asking for too much, chasing something I didn't even know if I really wanted," he shared on socials upon announcing his solo debut in March. "And honestly sometimes I'm still scared, but I wrote myself a manual. Hope [you] find it helpful too."

Funny Little Fears gave David the chance to take a step back from Måneskin's whirlwind success, the first time he had really been able to slow down in nearly 10 years. After forming in 2016, the band (which also features bassist Victoria De Angelis, guitarist Thomas Raggi, and drummer Ethan Torchio) gained domestic success in 2018 thanks to placing second on "X Factor Italy" and their breakthrough debut album, Il Ballo Della Vita. Three years later, the quartet catapulted to global fame after winning the Eurovision Song Contest 2021, which helped songs from their second studio album, Teatro d'ira: Vol. I, and their racing 2017 cover of the Four Seasons' "Beggin'" gain traction in the UK, the US and beyond.

By the time Måneskin released their third album, Rush!, in January 2023, they were certified superstars — selling out arenas around the world and appearing at major award shows, even earning a nomination for Best New Artist at the 2023 GRAMMYs. But amid their boisterous success, burnout began to take its toll; all the while, David was enduring heartbreak and new love (his six-year relationship with Giorgia Soleri ended in June 2023, and he began dating actress/singer Dove Cameron later that year). After playing several festivals in 2024, the band agreed it was time for a break and to explore individual projects.

In September 2024, David kicked off his solo career with the Labrinth-produced "Silverlines." More soulful and vulnerable than ever, the single highlighted how much David wanted to shed his bulletproof stage persona in favor of exploring different sides of himself. It marked a turning point — or, as he described in a teaser video, "the first day of my life."

Diverging from Måneskin's glam-rock sound and visuals, Funny Little Fears sees David in a new, sincere light. Through the album's 14 tracks, David allows himself to revel in bright pop ("Voices," "Born With a Broken Heart," "First Time"), soar high in anthemic ballads ("Next Summer," "The Bruise" featuring Suki Waterhouse), show his playful side in the Tim Burton-inspired "Zombie Lady," and prove his vocal prowess over cozy acoustic strings on songs like "Perfect Life" and "Solitude (No One Understands Me)."

The latter closes out the album, serving as a poignant statement piece of David's growth. "They say I'm crazy/ Maybe, they're right/ No one understands me (Nobody)/ But I do," he sings, echoing his goal of "learning to find the validation inside, and not outside."

"I honestly thought what I wanted from music was greatness, and awards, and numbers. I was very into that, but I changed my mind about it," he explains, touching on the album's themes of self-reflection. "This album was a way to say I'm not just [a rock star]. I'm many other things, and I'm equally proud of these things."

Ahead of releasing his debut album, David opened up to GRAMMY.com about finding balance, breaking expectations, and embracing his biggest fears.

You have described this album as a manual to your fears. What made you want to share it with the world right now?

I think it came from my instinct and my needs at the moment [I started making this album]. I was in a very difficult moment, and there was so much going on that I was not able to pinpoint what the main things [in my life] were.

And what music does for me, especially songwriting, is it comes from such an instinctive place in my brain that it's the way for me to block out the noise and really be able to see what are the important things in that moment. And so, when I looked back at the body of work, I saw that it was literally like a therapy session for me. It was like every song had a specific topic that I can connect with a specific moment of my life.

It really helped me to see myself from a third person perspective and understand myself. And by doing that, then I had the chance to really work on these things. So, the whole purpose of the album for me was this, to give me the chance to really understand myself. And by doing that, I hope that other people can feel understood.

What were some of the lessons you learned about yourself after making this album?

I learned that my happiness is made mainly by two things, which are my personal life and my work. And that the best way to use my energy is to try to find the balance between these two things, and to create a mechanism that helps me to make the right choice on what to do or what not to do to keep everything happy, healthy and enthusiastic.

You mentioned in another interview that you were making yourself unhappy, and you were very good at it. What was the moment when you realized that you had to stop and make yourself happy again?

I think it was, unfortunately, a very slow process. I didn't really realize what was happening to me for such a long time. And then I had a couple of intense experiences in a short span of time that really pushed me to... I don't know.

It's like I was [feeling] bad enough to then understand that it was time to do something. I'm actually thankful that I had these kinds of kicks.

You described this project as very theatrical. Do you feel more comfortable transforming your lived experiences into a spectacle or a fictional story? Does it make it easier to process them?

I don't think it's to make it easier. First of all, for me, it's very clear the separation between what I do on stage/on camera and what I do in my everyday life. It's, of course, the same person doing it. But it's like, on stage and on camera, it's always the "best" version. And so, adding the context of the theatre, of a movie, of something that has a show that starts and ends, I think it's easier then for people to understand that what you're seeing is a beautification of what happened.

Sometimes I'm talking about experiences that were very hard for me, and I'll remember them happily. Doing art is about actually taking these experiences and making them worth living by trying to turn them into something beautiful. It's a spectacle that can entertain people and bring people together. But then, when the show is over, that memory that's in a song goes back to being just a memory in real life.

With the success that you have found so far, you have to deal with expectations from the public, fans and people who think that they know you. Was this a source of worry while making this album, especially since it's a departure from your work with Måneskin?

I think this album was actually the answer to that, more than something I was scared of. People and the media kind of imprisoned me in this character of the fearless, bold rock star, which sometimes I am in my life. It's me, but it's not my hundred percent. This album was a way to say I'm not just that. I'm many other things, and I'm equally proud of these things.

Indeed, Funny Little Fears showcases many different sides of you, especially your pop influences. What drew you to these sounds?

In the band, we're four different identities, and I've always been the pop guy. Also, in my way of writing, my toplines and my melodies are in the context of rock music, but they are still very pop.

So, I knew that my work was going to be more pop, but I didn't know what sound it was going to have. And the sound is just the result of experiments and following my gut feelings. I tend to try not to overthink music too much, and to follow what attracts me.

A lot of your songs are about love, the good and the bad of it. Do you consider yourself a romantic, or is love more of a lens to express bigger themes and metaphors?

It's a really central thing in my life, my relationships. The writing process started at a very particular moment — I was coming out from a relationship and starting the one I am still in today. I was very influenced by the negative part and the breakup, and dealing with it, and then the rediscovery of sentiments and letting myself go, and all the fears connected to that. I think it's just the result of the moment I was living.

You mentioned facing your fears to make this album, yet also admitted that they are still present. What does it mean for you to live with fear, to accept it instead of fighting or avoiding it?

I think I'm still in the process of doing it, but I learned that fear is not necessarily negative. It can be a marker of what you have to work on, and what is not working in your life.

Sometimes, instead of being scared of the fear, we should try to trust it. Sometimes it can be a friend. And sometimes, it's also our instinct telling us that maybe we're putting ourselves in a sticky situation. So yeah, I'm trying to learn to be proud and to listen to my fears.

What is your biggest fear right now?

Again, for me it's so important to keep the balance in my life and my job. And I don't know, if this mechanism ever breaks — and I'm still building it, so it's fragile. If it ever breaks, it's…

Complicated. You've also said previously that growth comes from discomfort. Was there any moment while making the album that made you feel uncomfortable? How did you push through it?

The beginning of the process was very uncomfortable, because I had to move to another country for eight months, and I barely knew two people there at the time. And also, I had to meet a lot of different songwriters and trust myself and my instincts on choosing the people I wanted to be part of the project, and choosing when to push my ideas and when to listen to somebody else's.

To find the balance and confidence in trusting my own opinions and feelings was scary at the beginning, because you never know. It was my first solo project. I was confident in some ways, but at the same time, I didn't know if I was actually able to do the whole project on my own.

It was really a challenge with myself. But after a couple of months, it was not scary anymore. I felt good.

How did you cope with moving to an entirely new country while taking on something so big and unfamiliar for the first time?

The idea was very scary at the beginning, but then I think it was the right thing to do. When you move to a different place, people don't know you, so you can kind of rewrite your story. It was a good way for me to kickstart what I wanted to be in my life, based on other dynamics and values. I think it made the job easier, actually.

As part of Måneskin, what do you think are some of the differences between performing and working as a soloist, as opposed to working with a band?

The performance is, of course, different, because I have known my bandmates for years and I have a very intimate relationship with them. And my musicians now, I met them, like, four months ago. So, I would never kiss my guitarist on the mouth right now, you know. [Laughs.]

But performing for me has always been very… I kind of isolate [myself] in that moment. It's different because of the relationship I have with the musicians, but in my brain, I process it in a very similar way. In general, making a solo project is very different, because with the band, we know our identity, we know our goals, and we only have to argue about how to get there. While in this case, I improvised a lot.

Looking back on your career, what has been your biggest lesson so far?

I honestly thought what I wanted from music was greatness, and awards, and numbers. I was very into that, but I changed my mind about it.

Of course, it's beautiful and it's a great recognition, but I switched my priority on convincing myself first that what I do is worth doing, and it's meaningful for somebody and for me, as well. I'm learning to find the validation inside, and not outside.

I imagine there comes a moment where recognition never feels enough. There will always be higher records, and awards, and achievements to get, and it's impossible to get it all.

Yeah. And also, there's the chance that you will never get there. There's many artists we consider legendary that don't have any crazy awards. So having my own opinion on myself and my music is important.

How did you know when something felt right or wrong for this album?

Guts. Literally guts. I trust my opinion of music a lot. I think that I have a good taste. So, outside my own craft, I can judge music. [Laughs.] I really trust myself and I trust the people I work with.

How was the process of choosing the track list, then?

Sweat and tears. [Laughs.] No, it all comes down to what I was moved by and what felt right for this moment, and truthful, and organic.

And then there's a sense of cohesion between the songs themselves. There are some songs that were left out of the record, but it doesn't mean that I like them less, or that they are less mine. I was just maybe not the right artist [for them].

Do you have any favorites on this record?

I think my favorites are "Angel" and "Tango." "Angel" because it's a big act of freedom for me to talk so openly about my feelings towards a person, and to make it clear who it is about. I would never have done it a couple of years ago, and it's something I'm proud of.

And "Tango," I've always had the desire to do a very sad song that sounds very happy, so I managed to do it, and it's a little flex. [Laughs.]

Your album wraps up with "Solitude," a track where you get quite honest with your fears, but also accepting of them, and of yourself. You sing, "No one understands me, but I do." What made you choose to end the album on this note?

Many people are going to discover me through this album, and they don't know what I did in the past and whatever. This album is my presentation to them — it's my way to say, "And this is why I did it."

But then, on the other side, I know that there's many people that are coming [to this album] from the band. And I know that some of them are supporting me a lot, and some of them are hating on me because they don't understand where this stuff comes from. So, it's a way for me to state that I'm doing this for myself, and not to please anybody.