The Meaning at a Glance
“End of Beginning” is a reflective anthem about moving forward while acknowledging the person you used to be. The song serves as a final goodbye to early adulthood. When Djo, the musical alter-ego of actor Joe Keery, sings this track, he is exploring the emotional tug-of-war between his current life of fame in Los Angeles and his formative, humbler years in Chicago.
It isn’t just about a city; it is about mourning a version of yourself that no longer exists. The song validates the feeling that you can love a past chapter of your life while knowing you can never truly go back to it.
Introduction: The Viral Resurgence of Djo
For a long time, the world knew Joe Keery primarily as Steve Harrington, the redeemed bad boy with the great hair from the hit Netflix series Stranger Things. However, Keery has been quietly crafting a sophisticated musical identity under the moniker Djo.
When he released the album DECIDE in September 2022, it was well-received by indie and psych-rock fans. But something fascinating happened nearly two years later. In early 2024, the track “End of Beginning” exploded on social media platforms like TikTok.
Why did this specific track resonate so deeply with millions of people years after its release? The answer lies in its universal theme. Everyone has a “Chicago.” Everyone has a place, a time, or a group of friends that defines who they were before “real life” started.
The song captures a very specific type of nostalgia. It isn’t the happy, warm nostalgia of childhood. It is the bittersweet, sometimes painful ache of looking back at your early twenties—that chaotic, broke, beautiful period where you were struggling to define yourself.
Keery captures the sonic equivalent of driving past your old apartment or bumping into an old friend. It is a synth-heavy journey through memory lane that asks a difficult question: How much of ourselves do we leave behind when we chase our dreams?
Verse 1 Analysis: The Troubadour and The Tears
The song opens with a somber, almost resigned atmosphere. The narrator speaks about holding back tears, saving them for a moment of solitude. This immediately sets the scene of emotional repression. In the high-stakes world of entertainment or any demanding career, there is often no room for vulnerability during the day.
You have to keep it together. You have to perform. It is only in the middle of the night, when the distractions fade, that the emotional weight comes crashing down.
The reference to “The Troubadour” is crucial here. The Troubadour is a legendary music venue in West Hollywood, California. It is a place where careers are made, a symbol of the Los Angeles music industry. By introducing this setting, Keery creates a geographical conflict immediately.
He is physically in Los Angeles, surrounded by the history and pressure of the Troubadour, but his mind is drifting elsewhere.
The line mentioning the age of twenty-four is incredibly significant. For Keery specifically, age 24 was a turning point. This was around the time he was cast in Stranger Things and his life changed irrevocably.
Before 24, he was a struggling musician and actor in Chicago. After 24, he was a global superstar. He asks the listener (and himself) to remember that age because it marks the border between his two lives. It was the death of his anonymity and the birth of his career.
When he mentions things not being “black and white,” he is highlighting the complexity of success. We often think achieving our dreams will be purely happy. But the reality is gray. Gaining the world often means losing your old self.
The Chorus: The Ghost in Chicago
The chorus is the emotional core of the song and the section that sparked the massive viral trend. Djo admits that when he returns to Chicago, he “feels it.” But what is “it”?
He isn’t just feeling the wind off Lake Michigan. He is feeling the presence of his former self. He describes this as “another version of me.” This is a profound psychological concept. We are not static beings. The person you are at 22 is fundamentally different from the person you are at 30.
Keery acknowledges that a version of him still resides in that city. That version of Joe was likely broke, hustling, playing in his band Post Animal, and hanging out in dive bars.
There is a sense of dissociation here. He visits the city and sees his old self almost like a ghost. He was “in it,” deeply retrenched in that lifestyle, but now he is just a visitor.
The phrase “End of Beginning” serves as the title and the thesis statement. If childhood and early adulthood are the “beginning” of your life story, this song marks the closing of that chapter.
Waving goodbye to the “end of beginning” means accepting that you are now in the middle. You are established. You have arrived. There is safety in that, but there is also a finality. You cannot restart the game anymore. The tutorial is over.
Verse 2 Analysis: The Price of Ambition
As the song progresses, the tone shifts from sadness to a realization of how time works. He notes that the “song has started now,” implying that his life—the big, famous life he aimed for—is in full swing.
There is a touch of irony when he asks, “Now isn’t that a laugh?” It points to the absurdity of ambition. We spend our youth desperate to “start” our lives, to get the big break, to get out of our hometowns.
But once it happens, you realize you were clueless about what it would actually cost. He calls it a “major sacrifice.” This is a strong choice of words. It implies he gave up something vital to be where he is.
That sacrifice was his anonymity, his simple life, and his physical connection to the community he loved in Chicago. At the time, he didn’t know he was making a sacrifice; he just thought he was making a move.
The introduction of the name “Caroline” adds a layer of personal intimacy. While fans have speculated on who this might be, in the context of the song, Caroline represents the voice of reassurance.
Whether she is a manager, a friend, or a partner, she is the anchor during the turbulent transition. She tells him to “trust me, you’ll be fine.”
This is the advice every young person needs but rarely believes. When you are standing on the precipice of a massive life change—moving cities, changing careers, leaving a relationship—it feels like the world is ending. Caroline serves as the guide who pushes him through the door of the Troubadour and into his new future.
The Bridge: Identity and Geography
The bridge relies on a repetitive, mantra-like chant: “You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man.”
This is a twist on the old idiom, “You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.”
By repeating this over and over, Keery is trying to convince himself of its truth. He is desperate to believe that despite the Hollywood fame, the designer clothes, and the millions of followers, he is still, at his core, a Chicago guy.
It is a declaration of loyalty to his roots. He is telling his listeners that his environment has changed, but his soul hasn’t. The city of Chicago—its grit, its culture, its influence—is imprinted on his DNA.
This repetition also mimics the anxiety of an identity crisis. He is saying it to keep grounded. If he stops believing that the “city” is still inside him, he risks becoming just another hollow celebrity. It is a grounding mechanism to prevent his ego from floating away.
Biographical Context: Joe Keery and Post Animal
To fully understand the weight of this song, you have to look at Joe Keery’s history with the band Post Animal. Before he was Steve Harrington, Keery was a guitarist and drummer for this Chicago-based psychedelic rock band.
They were part of a thriving, tight-knit music scene. They played small clubs, toured in vans, and lived the quintessential indie rocker lifestyle. It was a time of creative freedom and camaraderie.
When Stranger Things became a global phenomenon, Keery had to make a choice. His scheduling conflicts and his massive fame made it impossible to continue as a full-time member of the band. He didn’t want his celebrity to overshadow the band’s hard work, nor could he commit to the touring schedule.
He had to step away.
This context transforms “End of Beginning” from a vague song about moving to a specific eulogy for his time in Post Animal. When he sings about the “sacrifice,” he is talking about leaving his bandmates. When he talks about the “version of me” in Chicago, he is talking about Joe the musician, not Joe the Netflix star.
It adds a layer of tragedy to the success. He got everything he wanted, but he had to leave the band to get it.
The Symbolism of Chicago vs. Los Angeles
In the narrative of the song, the two cities represent two opposing psychological states.
Chicago represents authenticity. It is associated with the “beginning.” It is cold, real, and communal. In the song’s lore, Chicago is where the heart lives. It is the place of “versions” of ourselves that were perhaps more naive, but also more free.
Los Angeles (implied by the Troubadour and the industry references) represents the “now.” It is the place of business, of “black and white” decisions, and of solitude. Notice that in the first verse, he is crying alone. In the chorus (Chicago), he is waving goodbye, which implies an interaction.
The song resonates so well because this Tale of Two Cities is a metaphor for adulthood. We all have a “Chicago”—a time in our lives where we struggled but felt deeply alive. And we all eventually move to “Los Angeles”—a state of stability and success that feels slightly more isolated.
Why the Song Went Viral on TikTok
The song’s resurgence in 2024 is a testament to the power of shared emotion. On TikTok, users began using the sound to showcase their own “Chicagos.”
People posted montages of their study abroad trips, their college towns, their summer camps, or their hometowns that they moved away from. The trend became a massive collective release of nostalgia.
The line “And when I’m back in Chicago, I feel it” became a trigger for users to show the place where they felt most like themselves.
This trend highlighted that the “End of Beginning” isn’t just about geography; it’s about eras. People used the song to mourn their high school years, their time before the pandemic, or relationships that changed them.
Keery unknowingly tapped into a “Saudade”—a Portuguese term for a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves.
Musical Composition: The Sound of Memory
The production of “End of Beginning” is just as important as the lyrics. Djo leans heavily into the neo-psychedelic and synth-pop genre.
The song utilizes heavy reverb and synthesizer washes that create a dreamlike quality. This is intentional. Memory is never clear; it is always a little blurry, a little echoey. The music mimics the feeling of remembering something from a distance.
The tempo is driving but not aggressive. It feels like a car ride at night—another common trope of nostalgia. The robotic, almost detached vocal delivery in the verses contrasts with the soaring, emotive melody of the chorus.
This contrast mirrors the lyrics: the verses are the reality of his current life (detached, holding back tears), while the chorus is the emotional release of the memory (feeling it, waving goodbye).
The Concept of “Saturn Return”
While not explicitly mentioned in the lyrics, the song aligns perfectly with the astrological concept of the “Saturn Return.” This occurs around age 27-29, but the effects often start feeling prominent around 24 or 25.
It is believed to be the time when a person truly crosses the threshold into adulthood. The structures of your youth fall away, and you are forced to define who you are as an independent adult.
“End of Beginning” is a textbook Saturn Return anthem. Keery is grappling with the solidification of his identity. He isn’t a kid experimenting with music and acting anymore; he is a professional. The “End of Beginning” is the acceptance that the trial period of life is over.
Revisiting the “Major Sacrifice”
It is worth digging deeper into the line “A major sacrifice, but clueless at the time.”
This addresses the blindness of youth. When we are young and hungry for success, we only look at the gains. We look at the salary, the fame, the title, or the adventure. We rarely calculate the losses.
You don’t realize that taking the job in New York means you will miss your parents aging. You don’t realize that becoming famous means you can never walk into a coffee shop anonymously again.
Keery is expressing a form of buyer’s remorse, or perhaps just a mature acknowledgement of the trade. He isn’t saying he regrets the decision—he explicitly says “Just trust me, you’ll be fine”—but he is acknowledging that he paid a high price for his ticket.
The “Troubadour” as a Gatekeeper
By personifying the venue (“Enter, Troubadour”), Keery treats the music industry almost like a character or a deity.
In mythology, there are often guardians at the gates of new worlds. The Troubadour acts as this gatekeeper. To pass through, Keery had to leave his Chicago self at the door.
This adds a mythical quality to his journey. It wasn’t just a flight from O’Hare to LAX; it was a spiritual crossing. The use of “Enter” sounds like stage directions in a script, reminding us of his dual life as an actor. He is stepping onto a new stage, playing a new role: The Star.
Conclusion: Making Peace with the Past
“End of Beginning” is ultimately a song about integration. It is about checking in on your past self, acknowledging they are still there, and then letting them go.
Djo isn’t trying to move back to Chicago. He isn’t trying to undo his success. He is simply honoring the “version of me” that got him there.
The song teaches us that it is okay to miss who we used to be. It validates the sadness that comes with growth. We often think of growth as purely positive, but shedding a skin is a painful process.
When Djo waves “goodbye to the end of beginning,” he is finally accepting his present. He is stepping fully into his adulthood, carrying the spirit of Chicago with him, but no longer haunted by its ghost. It is a masterpiece of transitional anxiety, wrapped in a synth-pop package that makes the sadness feel just a little bit sweeter.