Misha Fair’s ‘Beg’ is a blues-soaked slow-burn that knows exactly what it’s doing
- I'm Not From London
- 15 hours ago
- 2 min read
Misha Fair isn’t here to play coy. On ‘Beg’, she leans all the way into the grit, the hurt, the edge-of-a-whiskey-glass kind of pain—and the result is pure atmosphere. It’s late-night and low-lit, all slow-burning blues and eyes that won’t look away.
She’s staked her claim as a country artist who knows how to tell a story. - Prelude Press
The track creeps in with a heavy, deliberate pace—guitar lines that curl like smoke, percussion that stalks rather than struts. It never rushes. That’s part of the power. Fair takes her time, lets the ache hang in the air, and when she sings, it’s less about volume and more about presence. Her voice is rich and raw, raspy in just the right places—there’s history in it. A kind of tiredness, sure, but also backbone.
And the thing is, ‘Beg’ could have been a typical heartbreak song—if it weren’t so quietly furious. There’s no desperation here. Just someone who’s had enough, standing tall in the rubble of what used to be love. “Beg” isn’t about begging for someone—it’s about telling them they’ll have to beg for you, if they want another shot. That’s a different kind of heartbreak story. One that tastes like freedom.
The exquisite musical flavouring further cements her place in the music industry. - Divine Magazine
Also worth a shout: the music video. Shot in Cinemascope using vintage glass, it looks like a forgotten scene from a 70s road movie. All wide frames and quiet intensity. Just like the song, it doesn’t explain everything—it just feels.
If you’re into blues that’s cinematic and sultry without losing its emotional teeth, ‘Beg’ is one to queue up the next time you’re walking home in the dark, heels in hand, not sure if you’re sad or stronger than ever.
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