Someone You Knew
Thomas Geelens · Pop / Indie
Reviewed 2026-02-24
The Roast
“"I'm gonna be someone you knew." The hook is strong. The concept is strong. The execution is... padded. Thomas wrote a genuinely devastating thesis — the person you love most will one day describe you in past tense — and then repeated it until it lost all impact. "Someone you knew" appears SEVENTEEN times. The verses are two lines each. The After-Choruses are just "someone you knew" six times in a row. It's like he wrote a killer hook, panicked about filling three minutes, and just hit paste. But that bridge? "I woke up crying this morning, now I'm writing in the midnight" — THAT'S the song. The rest is a screensaver.”
Sally's not done with you yet.
Drop a URL, screenshot, or file and Sally will give you the honest truth.
The Bright Side
The bridge is genuinely great songwriting. "I wish you nothing but the best and I hope that you and I can still be friends when I see you again holding someone's hand" — the way "friends" collides with the image of her with someone new is painful in the best way. If the whole song had this density, it'd be a hit.
Hardest Sneer
“You wrote seventeen "someone you knew"s and one actual verse. The ratio is concerning.”
Think your work can survive this?
Drop a URL, screenshot, or file and Sally will give you the honest truth.
Issues (5)
"Someone You Knew" x17 — Repetition as a Lifestyle
Receipt
"Someone you knew" appears seventeen times in this song. Seventeen. The intro repeats it three times. Each after-chorus repeats it six times. That's TWELVE lines of after-chorus that are just... the title. You could cut 40% of this song and lose zero content. The hook would actually hit harder if it wasn't being worn down to a nub by overuse.
Fix
Cut the after-chorus sections entirely, or reduce them to two repetitions max. Let the hook breathe. "Less is more" exists as a concept specifically for situations like this.
Verse 1 and Verse 2 Are Barely Verses
Receipt
Verse 1: "There's nothing I can do to stop this, no / cause either way you're gonna go." That's it. Two lines. Verse 2: "And I know we're better off alone / but without you, this house feels less like home." Two lines again. Your verses are tweet-length. The pre-choruses do more work than the verses. It's like the verses showed up to work, clocked in, and immediately went on break.
Fix
Add two more lines to each verse. Give us specific details about the relationship. What's in the house that reminds you of them? What does 'stopping this' look like? Two lines is a thought, not a verse.
"We Said I Love You's But It Wasn't Love" — Then What Was It?
Receipt
"We said I love you's but it wasn't love" — Okay, then WHAT was it? Comfort? Habit? Fear of being alone? You've made a provocative claim and then just... moved on. "It wasn't love" is a grenade you tossed and never watched explode. What did it feel like if it wasn't love? What was the moment you realized? THAT'S a verse.
Fix
Unpack the revelation. "We said I love you's but it was just the fear of sleeping alone" or "but it was just the script we'd memorized" — give us the specific flavor of not-love. Every breakup has its own brand of it.
The Pre-Choruses Do More Emotional Work Than Anything Else
Receipt
"Let me look you in your eyes for the very, very last time" and "I got no words, cause I feel paralysed" — These pre-choruses are carrying the entire emotional weight of the song. They're specific, they're physical (eyes, paralysis), they're earned. Meanwhile, the verses are doing the bare minimum and the choruses are repeating. Your song has its priorities backwards.
Fix
Let the pre-chorus energy infect the verses. If you can write "let me look you in your eyes for the very, very last time," you can write verses that match that intensity. The talent is clearly there; it's just not evenly distributed.
"Hoping You'll Hear My Songs One Day" — The Fourth Wall Break
Receipt
"Now I'm writing in the midnight / hoping you'll hear my songs one day" — You broke the fourth wall in a breakup song. You're no longer a character in a story; you're Thomas Geelens, singer-songwriter, hoping his ex Googles him. It's honest, sure. But it also turns the emotional climax into a Spotify marketing moment. "Please listen to my music" is not the vibe for a bridge about heartbreak.
Fix
Keep the writing-at-midnight image but remove the self-referential plea. "Now I'm writing in the midnight, turning every memory into melody" keeps the mood without turning the bridge into a promo.