Joji’s “Will He” is not a romantic ballad; it is a dark, obsessive, and deeply self-aware confession. As the opening track of his 2017 debut EP In Tongues, the song immediately explained the core themes of the entire project. The song’s true meaning is a raw exploration of the mind of a toxic, guilt-ridden ex-boyfriend. He is trapped in an agonizing loop of jealousy, narcissism, and regret, all while trying to lie to himself, framing his unhealthy obsession as simple, noble “concern” for his former partner’s well-being.
The song is a masterpiece of unreliable narration. The singer is haunted by the ghost of his past relationship and is now fixated on his ex, who has moved on with someone new. “Will He” is the sound of his internal monologue, a late-night spiral of intrusive, possessive questions. He is not wishing his ex-partner well; he is subconsciously rooting for her new relationship to fail. The song’s genius, however, is its shocking moment of self-awareness, where he admits he was the one who “treated her like shit,” revealing his obsession is fueled not by love, but by a profound, unresolved guilt.
As the first song on In Tongues, “Will He” is the listener’s entry point into Joji’s new artistic identity, a stark departure from his previous internet personas. The production, handled by Joji and West1ne, is crucial to this. The sound is sparse, atmospheric, and soaked in lo-fi reverb. This creates a sonic world that feels like a cold, empty room in the middle of the night. It is the perfect, claustrophobic backdrop for a man trapped inside his own, echoing, and unhealthy thoughts.
The Physical Weight of Anxiety
The song opens not with an emotional statement, but with a physical one. The singer confesses, “I got knots all up in my chest.” This is a visceral, bodily symptom. He is not just “sad”; he is in physical distress. These “knots” are the feeling of anxiety, a heavy, tangled weight that lives in his chest. This immediately frames the singer as a man who is suffering, whose emotional state has become a chronic physical burden.
He follows this by immediately making an excuse, a plea to his absent ex-partner. “Just know, I’m trying my best.” This is a classic line from someone drowning in self-pity. He is framing himself as a victim, a man who is “trying” to cope with this immense pain. He is establishing his own suffering as the primary focus of the narrative. He is trying his best, not necessarily to move on, but to simply survive the pain that his own thoughts are causing him.
This opening establishes the singer’s internal conflict. He is in pain, and he believes he is a “victim” of that pain. This self-victimization is a key part of his psychological state. It is what allows him to justify his later obsessive thoughts. He is not a “bad person” in his own mind; he is a “sad person” who is “trying his best.” This is the first layer of the self-deception that defines the entire song.
The Self-Torture of Memory
The singer then explains the trigger for his physical anxiety. “’Cause when you look / When you laugh / When you smile / I’ll bring you back.” These are not memories of conflict; they are simple, happy, and mundane moments. These are the “ghosts” that haunt him. But the most important phrase here is “I’ll bring you back.” He is not a passive victim of his memories; he is an active participant in his own torture.
He is willfully conjuring her image. He is the one “bringing her back” into his mind, replaying these happy moments, which, in their absence, now only cause him pain. This is a conscious act of self-harm. He is opening the wound over and over, addicted to the very memories that are putting “knots” in his chest. He is trapped in a self-perpetuating cycle: he feels bad, so he revisits the memories, which in turn make him feel worse.
The song’s structure, with its repeating ad-libs, mimics this. The lines “When you look (When you look)” are like an echo, the sound of the memory playing on a loop. This is the sound of his obsession. He is stuck on these specific, tiny details of her, the “look,” the “laugh,” the “smile.” He has reduced a whole person to a set of triggers for his own suffering.
The Cycle of Coping
After explaining his self-torture, the singer describes the inevitable result. “And now I’m sad / And I’m a mess.” This is the direct, cause-and-effect consequence of “bringing her back.” The nostalgia instantly sours into present-day misery. He is fully aware that this memory-loop is the source of his current, “messy” state. This admission is crucial, as it shows he is aware of his own self-destructive pattern, even if he is powerless to stop it.
He then reveals his coping mechanism: “And now we high / That’s why I left.” This couplet is a dark, mumbled confession. The “mess” he is in leads him to substance use. He is getting “high” to numb the sadness that the memories brought up. This is the next link in his toxic chain: obsession leads to pain, and pain leads to a chemical escape. He is trying to “leave” his sober, anxious reality.
The line “That’s why I left” is one of the song’s most debated. It can be interpreted in two ways. It could be part of his coping mechanism: “I’m a mess, so I got high, and that’s why I left this train of thought.” However, a more powerful and self-aware interpretation is that he is referring to the relationship itself. This entire cycle—the sadness, the “mess,” the getting “high”—is why the relationship ended. He is admitting, in a roundabout way, that this instability is “why I left,” or more accurately, why she left him. This is the first crack in his facade, a hint of the guilt that lies beneath his obsession.
The Physical Obsession
The verse then shifts dramatically. The singer’s internal monologue, which was focused on his own pain, now turns outward. He begins a series of intensely specific, jealous, and possessive questions directed at his ex-partner. The first question is purely physical: “Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips?”
This is not a question about love; it is a question about his physical, sensory imprint. He is fixated on the “taste” of his “lips.” He is asking, “Am I physically unforgettable?” He is not concerned with her emotional happiness. He is concerned with whether his physical presence has been permanently burned into her memory, whether her own body “remembers” him in a way her new lover cannot overwrite.
This physical obsession is a form of narcissism. He is reducing their past intimacy to a “taste,” a unique “brand” that he hopes she still craves. This is the start of his competition with the new man, a competition that is, at this point, purely sensory. He wants to believe that his kiss is a high-water mark that her new partner cannot possibly live up to.
The Narcissistic Haunting
The obsession quickly escalates from the physical to the poetic, and in turn, becomes even more narcissistic. “Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips?” This is a truly grandiose and bizarre question. He is no longer asking if she remembers him, but if her shadow does. He is personifying an inanimate, abstract part of her and asking if it, too, is haunted by his memory.
The “swing of my hips” is another overtly sexual and self-aggrandizing image. He is casting himself as a figure of such powerful physical charm that even her “shadow” is lovesick for him. This line reveals the depth of his ego. He wants to be more than a memory; he wants to be a supernatural force in her life, a “ghost” that is attached to her very being, down to her shadow.
This line is pure, possessive poetry. He is so self-absorbed that he sees his “charm” as something that can infect the very laws of light and physics around her. He is not just a man she used to date; in his mind, he is an essential, unforgettable part of her reality that she can never, ever escape, no matter how hard she tries.
The Insecure Comparison
The singer then brings his faceless rival into the picture. “Will your lover caress you the way that I did?” This is the first direct comparison, and it is loaded with insecurity. The key phrase is “the way that I did.” He is operating under the narcissistic assumption that his “way” of touching her was unique, special, and ultimately, superior.
He is consumed by the thought of them being intimate. He is imagining her new lover’s hands on her, and it is driving him insane. His question is a desperate plea for reassurance that he was better. He is not asking, “Does he caress you?” He is asking, “Can he possibly do it as well as I did?” This is his ego trying to protect itself. He needs to believe he is irreplaceable in her intimate life.
This is not a question of her being “safe” or “okay,” as he will later claim. This is a question of his own ego. He is terrified of being replaced, of being a “worse” lover. The thought that she might be happier, or more satisfied, with someone new is the source of the “knots in his chest.” He is in a competition that he is not even a part of, one that is happening entirely inside his own head.
The Predatory Wait
The final question of the verse is the most predatory and reveals his true intentions. “Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit?” This line is not about the past; it is about the future. He is not just reminiscing; he is waiting. He is actively, hopefully, waiting for her new partner to fail.
The use of “slips up” is telling. He is banking on the new relationship’s imperfection. He is hoping for a “slip,” a single mistake, a “bit” of failure. He is perched like a vulture, waiting for the new man to show a flaw. He is not hoping for her happiness. He is hoping for her new partner’s downfall.
And when that “slip up” happens, he is confident that she will “notice my charm.” He is imaging a scenario where she is disappointed by her new lover and immediately thinks of him. He is rooting for her to be in a constant state of comparison, just as he is. This line proves his “concern” is a lie. He does not want her to be “safe”; he wants her to be his.
The Great Lie of the Chorus
After this barrage of intensely obsessive, jealous, and narcissistic questions, the singer delivers the song’s great, transparent lie: “‘Cause I don’t need to know / I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” This chorus is a masterpiece of self-deception. He desperately needs to know. The entire first verse is a detailed list of exactly what he needs to know.
He is trying to mask his toxic, possessive obsession as noble, selfless “concern.” He is trying to rationalize his mental breakdown as a simple, caring act. “I’m not a jealous ex,” he is telling himself, “I’m just a good guy who wants to make sure she’s ‘safe’.” This is the “safe” story he has constructed around his ugly feelings to make them palatable to himself.
We, the listener, can see through this lie. His questions were not about her “safety.” They were about “taste,” “hips,” “caresses,” and “charm.” They were about his ego, his replacement, and his physical legacy. The chorus is his denial. It is the sound of a man who is so deep in his own toxic patterns that he has to create a false, “heroic” motive for them. He is lying to himself more than to anyone else.
The Confession of a Toxic Partner
The second verse continues the obsessive questions, but with a horrifying, self-aware twist. He asks, “Will he play you those songs just the way that I did?” and “Will he play you so strong just the way that I did?” The obsession is now escalating. He is worried about their “songs,” the cultural and personal soundtrack to their relationship. He is worried about the new man’s “strength,” another insecure, ego-driven comparison.
And then, the mask does not just slip; he rips it off himself. He asks, “Will he treat you like shit just the way that I did?” This is the most important line in the entire song. It is a moment of pure, shocking, and brutal honesty. It re-contextualizes everything we have just heard.
He is a self-aware monster. He knows he was a bad partner. He knows he treated her “like shit.” This confession is devastating. It reveals that his anxiety is not just about losing her; it is about the profound, unresolved guilt of how he lost her. He knows he was the problem. He knows he is the villain of the story.
This question is deeply complex. Is he hoping the new guy also treats her like shit, so he doesn’t feel uniquely evil? Is he hoping the new guy is better, so she can finally be “safe,” even if it kills him? Or is their “shit” relationship a toxic bond he misses? The ambiguity is what makes it so powerful. It is the sound of a man who is not just jealous, but also deeply, deeply ashamed.
The Sound of Guilt
The singer’s final spoken words in the song are the key to his entire psychology. Immediately after admitting he “treated her like shit,” he says, “‘Cause I don’t blame you.” This is his final confession. He does not blame her for leaving him. He is validating her choice. He is admitting he deserved to be left.
This line is the one, true, selfless moment in the entire song. It is a full admission of his guilt. He knows he was the problem. This is why he is so obsessed. His jealousy is not born from a place of “love” in the traditional sense. It is born from a place of “guilt.” He can’t let her go because he can’t forgive himself. He is trapped in this loop because he knows he destroyed something good, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does.
When the chorus repeats after this confession, it sounds entirely different. “I just wanna make sure you’re okay” is no longer just a lie to cover his jealousy. It is now a desperate, guilt-ridden plea. He needs her to be “okay” because he was the one who made her “not okay.” Her safety and happiness are now tied to his own potential for absolution. He needs her to be “all safe” so he can finally stop feeling guilty for being the one who “treated her like shit.”
Conclusion: The Perfect Introduction
“Will He” is a haunting and brilliant piece of songwriting, a perfect introduction to the world of In Tongues. It explains, with painful honesty, the inner world of a man who is not a “sad boi” but a “bad guy” who is now sad. He is a toxic, obsessive, and narcissistic ex-partner, but his toxicity is not one-dimensional. It is fueled by a crippling self-awareness and a guilt he cannot escape.
The song is a confessional from a man who knows he has no right to be obsessed, but is too broken to stop. He lies to himself, framing his ego as “concern,” but he cannot escape the central truth: he “treated her like shit,” he “doesn’t blame her” for leaving, and he is now trapped in a cold, lonely room, paying the price. He is haunted by the past, but the song makes it clear that he is the one who is the “ghost,” and he is haunting himself.