Damiano David Delivers a Powerful Solo Show at The Fillmore Philadelphia
- Emma Zoe Polyak
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
Damiano David returned to Philadelphia on December 6, but not as the swaggering front man most fans first encountered during Måneskin’s explosive rise. The sold-out show marked one of the last stops on his first solo tour supporting Funny Little Fears, a project that leans into vulnerability and a polished pop sound, in contrast to Måneskin’s glam-rock bravado. In a room packed with longtime followers and curious newcomers, David offered a softer, more intimate version of himself, punctuating his set with personal reflections that chronicled the highs and growing pains of sudden global fame.
I had the chance to see David perform in the very same room with Måneskin back in 2022, and although the music had changed, David’s stage presence and charisma was just as compelling. The rockstar quality of his Eurovision-era breakthrough still hovered around him, but this time he also seemed intent on revealing the person beneath it.
There was no opener to start the night, making the crowd scream even louder when the lights dimmed and his band took the stage. From the photo pit, I could see the beaming faces of the crowd – many who had braved the particularly cold Philadelphia weather in order to secure a spot up front. As the opening notes of “Born With a Broken Heart” played, David walked on stage, and the crowd went crazy. One of the first singles released from his solos project, “Born With a Broken Heart” is an undeniably upbeat song, but David’s signature raspy vocals still shine through.
“We’re gonna slow it down and do something romantic,” he teased early on, the appearance of an acoustic guitar signaling the shift toward intimacy as he dove into a cover of “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart.” A previous cover included “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon, and the two songs reminded the audience of David’s full vocal range.
The set was divided into three parts, with David running off stage to change outfits for each. He usually does the quick changes on stage, he shared, but it felt too cold on stage to change that night. When he returned each time, he shared a personal story about his solo project, revealing to the audience why he chose to step away from Måneskin and create Funny Little Fears. The first act was fast-paced and explosive, representing the past ten years of David’s life. “It was incredible,” said David, reminiscing about those years, “but unfortunately after few years of it, I started feeling not as good, and something truly broke inside of me and I wasn't able to enjoy anything anymore.” While taking a break in order to find himself, he started creating the album, and he came to the realization that “I was leaving a dream, but it was a dream that I never decided was mine.” He continued to share that he wrote “Perfect Life” about this feeling of being stuck in someone else’s dream.
The third part of his set felt like a rebirth, with songs like “Zombie Lady” and “Angel” pushing the momentum forward. He closed the main set with “Mars,” one of my personal favorites, and a song David himself considers among his best. Before launching into it, he offered a tender dedication to his girlfriend Dove Cameron, noting that for the first time, he had written a love song about someone everyone already knows.
Much of the night circled back to the idea of self-discovery. David explained that Funny Little Fears was the first record he made purely for himself – a project that helped him realize he didn’t need to have all the answers right now. He doesn’t know who he’ll be in five or ten years, he admitted, and that’s okay. It was a nice reminder for the crowd, and I saw many people around me nod their heads in agreement, letting his words sink in.
For the encore, he returned with “The First Time,” giving it a second life before closing the evening with a mashup of “Naked” and “Solitude (No One Understands Me).” The cathartic final chorus of “No one understands me / But I do” echoed through The Fillmore, a moment both communal and solitary, as if everyone in the room felt seen at once. And as David stepped offstage, it was hard not to feel that after an hour and a half of vulnerability, reinvention, and release, we all understood him a little better.
