“This Feeling,” the 2018 hit by The Chainsmokers featuring country-pop star Kelsea Ballerini, is a defiant anthem about the conflict between following your heart and facing the judgment of the outside world. At its core, the song is a true story about choosing a controversial love, ignoring the “helpful” advice from friends and family, and bracing for the consequences. It’s a declaration that the “noise” from critics doesn’t matter because they simply cannot understand the powerful, unique emotion of “this feeling.”
This track, released as the seventh single from The Chainsmokers’ second album, Sick Boy, is far more than a simple EDM-country crossover. It’s a deeply personal confession. Based on artist interviews and statements, the song’s meaning is rooted in real-life events, including the public scrutiny of a band member’s new relationship and the personal mental health struggles of another. It’s a narrative of defiance, vulnerability, and the decision to own your choices, no matter the cost.
Part 1: The True Story and Real-Life Inspiration
To understand “This Feeling,” you must first understand the context in which it was written. The song is not a fictional tale; it’s a direct response to real-world pressure.
Alex Pall’s “Scandal” and the “Noise”
The primary inspiration for the song came from the personal life of Alex Pall, one-half of The Chainsmokers. In a candid Reddit comment, the duo confirmed the song’s origin. They explained it was written after “the whole Alex scandal with his ex.” Pall had entered a new relationship and was, as the band stated, “getting so much shit for it.”
This wasn’t just quiet disapproval. The backlash was coming from all directions: “not just from fans, but family and friends.” The song, they said, is about “dealing with that feeling of following your heart in spite of everyone around him telling him he was an idiot.” This single fact re-frames the entire song. It’s not about a hypothetical, forbidden love; it’s a real-time defense of a relationship that was being publicly and privately attacked.
Drew Taggart’s Personal Battle
Adding another layer of emotional depth, bandmate Andrew Taggart revealed his own connection to the track’s theme of defiant survival. He mentioned that “This Feeling” was the “first song he wrote when he came out of his depressive state.” This context shifts the song’s meaning slightly.
While Pall’s story provides the romantic plot, Taggart’s experience provides the internal one. The “noise” isn’t just external (friends and family); it’s also internal (depression, self-doubt). The song becomes a two-front battle: one against the world’s judgment and one against your own internal demons. The defiant “yeah, yeah, yeah” in the drop is as much a victory over depression as it is over external critics.
The Kelsea Ballerini Connection
The choice of Kelsea Ballerini was not a random grab for a country audience. The Chainsmokers had heard her covering their songs and learned she was a fan. They met backstage at a show and, as they put it, “really hit it off.”
Kelsea herself was the perfect thematic fit. In an interview with ABC Radio, she confirmed, “‘This Feeling’ is all about following your heart, which is the whole album that I made, that’s what it’s about.” Her own album, Unapologetically, was built on the same theme of owning your personal narrative. She wasn’t just a featured vocalist; she was the song’s co-protagonist, bringing her own authentic experience of country music storytelling to the track.
Part 2: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: Verse 1 (Kelsea’s Story)
Kelsea Ballerini opens the song, not as a neutral observer, but as the female protagonist in this “us against the world” narrative. She immediately sets a defensive and preemptive tone.
Taking Control of the Narrative
The song begins with Ballerini stating she will “tell you a story before it tells itself.” This is a powerful opening. It’s the voice of someone who has been the subject of gossip and rumors. She is tired of other people defining her life, so she is seizing control of the story. She is laying her cards on the table first.
This line directly reflects the “Alex scandal” inspiration. It’s the sound of someone in a high-profile, criticized relationship deciding to speak their own truth before the tabloids or gossip blogs can spin it for them.
The “Crazy” Accusation
She continues by laying out her “reasons,” fully expecting the listener (a friend, a parent) to “say that I need help.” This single line captures the frustrating experience of being made to feel “crazy” for your romantic choices.
Her “reasons” are the logic of the heart, which often sounds like madness to the logic of the head. She has already played this conversation out in her mind. She knows that to an outsider, her passionate defense of this man will sound like delusion. This line establishes the deep gap in understanding between the couple and the rest of the world.
When Good Expectations Go Bad
The verse acknowledges the critics’ point of view by stating, “We all got expectations and sometimes they go wrong.” This is a crucial, mature admission. She understands the “rules.” She knows what a “good” or “safe” relationship is supposed to look like, and she admits this one doesn’t fit the mold.
This line is her concession to the “head” argument. She is saying, “I understand your concern. I know the risks. I know what is expected of me.” But this admission only serves to strengthen her final point.
The Song as a Final Plea
She concludes her verse with a line of pure, heartbreaking frustration: “But no one listens to me, so I put it in this song.” This is the sound of someone who has exhausted all other options. She has had the arguments over dinner. She has sent the long, explanatory texts. She has tried to make her friends and family understand, but they just “sit and nod their heads.”
Her only remaining option is to broadcast her feelings to the world through her art. The song itself becomes a public diary, a final, desperate attempt to be heard and understood. It’s a last-ditch effort to prove the legitimacy of her feelings.
Part 3: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: The Chorus (The Anthem)
The chorus, sung by both Ballerini and Taggart, is the song’s emotional and thematic core. It perfectly summarizes the central conflict and delivers the defiant thesis.
The “Head vs. Heart” Conflict
The chorus explodes with the song’s main theme: “They tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest.” This is the universal, timeless advice given to anyone in a relationship deemed risky, impractical, or “wrong.”
The “head” represents logic, safety, and societal approval. It’s the voice of your parents, your concerned friends, and your own self-doubt. The “chest” represents the heart, the “feeling”—that raw, undeniable, and often illogical pull toward another person. The song presents this not as a gentle suggestion, but as an aggressive demand from “they.”
The Violence of “Helpful” Advice
The song escalates this pressure with a surprisingly violent image: “They got their hands at my neck this time.” This is not a metaphor for a gentle nudge. This is a metaphor for suffocation.
This line brilliantly captures how “helpful” advice, when delivered relentlessly, can feel like an attack. The critics aren’t just suggesting; they are strangling. They are trying to choke the life out of this relationship, to force the “right” decision. This imagery conveys the desperation and the high-stakes nature of the conflict. The protagonists feel they are fighting for air.
The Simple, Defiant Choice
The response to this pressure is simple, pure, and unwavering: “But you’re the one that I want.” This line cuts through all the noise, all the logic, and all the suffocating advice. It is the song’s ultimate truth.
It doesn’t offer a defense. It doesn’t list reasons. It doesn’t bargain. It simply states the heart’s decision as a non-negotiable fact. It is the “I am” statement of the relationship. This, right here, is the “this feeling” of the title. It’s a certainty that requires no external validation.
The Unknowable Feeling
The chorus concludes with the song’s grand, “us against the world” declaration. The protagonists acknowledge the world’s judgment—”if that’s really so wrong”—but they don’t accept it.
Instead, they deliver the final verdict: “Then they don’t know what this feelin’ is like.” This is the ultimate dismissal of all critics. The argument is over. Why? Because the critics are arguing from a place of ignorance. They haven’t felt this. They haven’t been in this. They are on the outside of a “hideaway” (to borrow from “Roses”) they cannot see into.
This line is a shield. It invalidates all outside opinions. It’s a profound statement of romantic exceptionalism: Our love is different. Our connection is unique. You don’t get a vote, because you don’t even know what you’re talking about.
Part 4: The Sound of Defiance (The Build & Drop)
The musical sections of “This Feeling” are just as important as the lyrics, translating the song’s emotional journey into sound.
The “Yeah” as an Affirmation
The pre-drop build, led by Kelsea Ballerini, is a simple, repetitive “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” This is not a throwaway EDM vocal. It’s the sound of the heart finding its voice. After the suffocating pressure of the chorus, this “yeah” is the first deep breath.
It’s the sound of the protagonists convincing themselves. It’s a mantra. It’s an affirmation. “Am I crazy?” Yeah. “Is this risky?” Yeah. “Am I going to do it anyway?” Yeah. It’s the sound of a decision being made in real-time.
The Drop: The Sound of “This Feeling”
When the drop hits, Andrew Taggart’s processed “Yeah, yeah-eah” takes over. This is the moment of pure emotional release. This is the sound of this feeling. It’s a euphoric, soaring melody that represents the heart winning the “head vs. heart” battle.
The sound itself—a blend of country guitar plucks, a powerful pop drumbeat, and a classic Chainsmokers future-bass synth—is the “paradise” the couple is running toward. It’s the sound of ignoring the “noise” and living inside that perfect, private emotion. When they sing “they don’t know what this feelin’ is like,” this drop is the feeling they’re talking about. It’s a sound of ecstatic, defiant freedom.
Part 5: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: Verse 2 (Andrew’s Story)
Andrew Taggart takes the second verse, providing the male perspective. His verse is darker, more cynical, and focuses on the theme of betrayal and accountability. It clearly reflects the “Alex Pall” story.
The Disingenuous Critics
Taggart begins with, “I’ll tell them a story, they’ll sit and nod their heads.” This mirrors Kelsea’s frustration. He is talking to the critics, the “friends,” and they are putting on a show of listening. They “nod,” but they don’t hear.
This paints a picture of disingenuous, polite confrontations. The friends have already made up their minds. His “story” or his “reasons” are just a formality they must endure before they can restate their “concerns.”
The Betrayal and Gossip
The next line is one of the most complex and revealing in the song: “I tell you all my secrets and you tell all your friends.” This line is a bombshell. It’s a direct accusation, and it’s unclear who “you” is.
Interpretation 1: The “you” is the partner (Kelsea’s character). This adds a fascinating, dysfunctional layer. He’s saying, “I trust you, but you are the source of the leak. You tell your friends, and they are the ones giving us hell.” This makes their “hideaway” fragile and internally compromised.
Interpretation 2: The “you” is one of the “friends” he thought he could trust. “I’ll tell them (the group) a story… [but] I tell you (a specific friend) all my secrets… and you (that friend) tell all your friends.” This highlights a specific betrayal, the “friend” who became the ringleader of the “noise.”
Both interpretations lead to the same result: The couple’s private life has been made public, and the source of the problem is a breach of trust. This explains why everyone has an opinion. Their secrets are not safe.
The Challenge and the Consequence
Taggart’s verse ends with a cold, hard challenge to his critics: “Hold on to your opinions and stand by what you said.” This is a cynical, almost bitter line. He is telling them, “Go ahead. Make your judgments. I’ll remember who stood against me.”
He then delivers the song’s most mature and powerful statement of accountability: “In the end, it’s my decision, so it’s my fault when it ends.” This is the ultimate answer to the “head vs. heart” debate. He has chosen his path. He is not asking for permission, and he is not asking for approval.
He is telling his friends and family, “I am choosing this person. If it all blows up, if you are right, if it’s a disaster—I will own it. It will be on me. But I am going to make the choice.” This line is the sound of true adulthood: taking full responsibility for the choices your heart makes.
Part 6: In-Depth Lyrical Analysis: The Final Bridge & Build
The song’s final act drives home the theme with new, explicit lyrics that remove all doubt.
Repeating the Story
The bridge repeats Kelsea’s entire first verse, but this time, it’s sung as a duet. This is a crucial structural choice. It shows that her story is also his story. The feeling of being called “crazy,” the frustration of not being heard—these are now shared experiences. They are completely in sync, facing the same external war.
The Explicit “Friends”
The final build-up changes the lyrics in a small but vital way. We hear a new call-and-response: “My friends say no, no.” This makes the conflict painfully clear. The “they” from the chorus is not an abstract, faceless crowd. It is “my friends.” It’s the people who are supposed to be closest to them.
The Secret “They Don’t Know”
The response to this is a whispered, almost secret, “(But they don’t know).” This is the couple’s internal monologue, their shared secret. It’s the core thesis of the song, finally spoken plainly.
This line is the source of all their strength. Their friends say “no,” but their “no” is based on ignorance. The couple has a piece of information the friends do not: they know what “this feeling” is like. And that knowledge, that shared experience, trumps all the “logical” advice in the world.
Part 7: Deconstructing the Music Video (The Motocross Metaphor)
The official music video for “This Feeling” is not a literal depiction of a couple being criticized. Instead, it’s a high-octane, “adrenaline-heavy” metaphor set in the world of professional motocross. Alex Pall provided a detailed explanation of its meaning on Reddit.
The Characters as Metaphors
- Alex Pall as the “Showboat Rider”: Alex plays the champion. He wins everything, but as Pall explains, he “deals with the pressure of being the best and struggles with internal demons behind closed doors.” This is a direct metaphor for his public life—the success of The Chainsmokers contrasted with the private “scandal” and judgment he was facing.
- Andrew Taggart as the “Outcast Rider”: Drew plays the underdog, the one “trying to fit in” who “doesn’t have the money like the rest.” This perfectly visualizes Taggart’s “depressive state.” He is the one on the outside, battling his own insecurities and fighting for his place.
- Kelsea Ballerini as the Competitor: Kelsea is a fierce rider in her own right, competing and holding her own in this intense, male-dominated world. She is a visual representation of her role in the song: a powerful force, equal to her collaborators, who is not afraid of the “adrenaline-heavy” (as she called it) fight.
The Crash and the Core Meaning
The video’s narrative is about “emotions getting to their heads,” which ultimately leads to a “fatal crash.” This is a dark, powerful visualization of the song’s final line: “it’s my fault when it ends.” The video shows that following your heart, your “feeling,” in a high-pressure world is dangerous. It can lead to disaster.
But the video’s true meaning, as confirmed by Pall, is a direct echo of the song’s chorus: “It shows that you can’t understand the feelings of anyone else until you are in their shoes.” The fans, the critics, the friends—they are the spectators in the stands. They are not the riders. They are not the ones on the track, risking everything. Therefore, they “don’t know what this feelin’ is like.”
Part 8: The “Sick Boy” Era: Context & Reception
“This Feeling” was not a standalone single. It was a key chapter in the Sick Boy album, which The Chainsmokers released song by song throughout 2018. This album was a conscious pivot from their Memories…Do Not Open era. It was darker, more cynical, and more focused on themes of mental health, identity, and societal pressure.
Songs like “Sick Boy” and “Everybody Hates Me” explored the downside of fame and public judgment. “This Feeling” fits perfectly into this narrative. It’s the “love” chapter of that same story: “Not only does the world hate me for my fame, but it also hates me for who I love.”
Fans on platforms like Reddit immediately praised the song as a “bop,” noting it perfected the “Closer formula” by adding a compelling, three-dimensional narrative. Many listeners specifically praised the marked improvement in Andrew Taggart’s vocals, particularly his emotional high notes in the drop, which fans noted were a huge leap in his training and control. The country crossover was largely seen as a massive success, with Kelsea’s storytelling and earnest vocals grounding the song in a powerful, relatable reality.
Conclusion: A Universal Anthem of Defiance
“This Feeling” is one of the most honest and well-told stories in The Chainsmokers’ catalog. It’s a song that works on multiple levels, all of them true.
It is a literal, true story about the “scandal” of a public relationship and the backlash from “fans, but family and friends.”
It is a personal, internal confession about fighting through a “depressive state” and choosing to feel again, despite the risks.
It is a masterful metaphor, expanded by its music video, that argues you cannot possibly judge a person’s choice—a person’s “feeling”—until you have lived in their shoes, raced on their track, and faced their “internal demons.”
Ultimately, “This Feeling” is a universal anthem for anyone who has ever had to make a choice between the heart and the head. It’s for anyone who has been told their love is “wrong,” “impractical,” or “crazy.” It gives a voice to that powerful, defiant, and validating response: “You’re right, it might all go wrong. It might be my fault when it ends. But I’m doing it anyway… because you don’t know what this feeling is like.”