It’s rare for a song about nuclear annihilation to become a wedding staple. Actually, it's weird. But that is exactly what happened with As the World Caves In. Originally released in 2017 by Matt Maltese, the track didn’t just climb the charts; it seeped into the collective subconscious of a generation that feels like the world is actually, literally ending.
You’ve probably heard it. That soaring, cinematic swell of strings. The lyrics about a "final kiss" while the buttons are pressed. It’s dramatic. It’s camp. It’s deeply, uncomfortably relatable.
But why did a song written by a British singer-songwriter in his early twenties—inspired by the bizarre political landscape of 2016—become the definitive sound of 2020s digital culture? To understand the staying power of As the World Caves In, we have to look past the TikTok trends and into the actual anxiety that fueled its creation.
The Theresa May Inspiration Nobody Talks About
Most people think this is just a generic love song set during the apocalypse. It isn’t. Matt Maltese actually wrote the song as a satirical, albeit strangely beautiful, piece of fan fiction about Theresa May and Donald Trump.
Seriously.
Back in 2016, Maltese was watching the political world shift in ways that felt surreal. He imagined a scenario where the then-Prime Minister of the UK and the President of the US decided to spend their final moments together as the world burned. He told NME and several other outlets that the song was born out of a sense of helplessness. It was a way to poke fun at the terrifying reality of nuclear tension by dressing it up in the most romantic, lush production possible.
The irony is that the satire mostly got stripped away by the time it hit the mainstream.
When you listen to it now, you aren't thinking about 2016 geopolitics. You're thinking about your own life. That’s the magic of good songwriting. It outgrows the writer's intent. The song transformed from a specific political jab into a universal expression of "doom-scrolling" romanticism. It’s the sound of finding beauty in the wreckage.
The Sarah Cothran Effect: Why the Cover Exploded
If Maltese provided the soul of the song, Sarah Cothran provided the rocket fuel. In 2021, her cover of As the World Caves In went nuclear—pun intended—on TikTok.
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Cothran’s version leaned heavily into the "theatrical" aspect. Her vocals are breathy, operatic, and haunting. It became the soundtrack to millions of videos. We saw everything from POV videos about the end of the world to makeup tutorials and clips of Star Wars characters looking sad.
Why the change in sound mattered
The original version has a bit of a Bowie-esque, lo-fi indie feel. It’s grounded. Cothran’s version, however, felt like it belonged in a movie trailer for the end of humanity.
- It maximized the "Main Character" energy.
- The high notes became a challenge for other singers.
- The production felt "larger than life," which is exactly how global anxiety feels to a teenager in their bedroom.
This version is why the song is now sitting on hundreds of millions of streams. It tapped into the "Dark Academia" aesthetic that was peaking at the time. It made sadness feel prestigious.
Existentialism as a Brand
We need to talk about why this specific theme resonates so hard right now. We are living in an era of "permacrisis." Between climate change, global pandemics, and the constant threat of economic collapse, the idea of the world "caving in" doesn't feel like a metaphor anymore. It feels like a Tuesday.
Gen Z is the first generation to grow up with the end of the world as a constant background hum on their phones.
As the World Caves In provides a sense of catharsis. It says: "Yes, everything is falling apart, but at least we have this moment." It’s a form of optimistic nihilism. If the bombs are falling, you might as well be wearing your best outfit and holding the person you love.
There's a specific chord progression in the song—moving from a major key to a sudden, dramatic minor shift—that triggers a physical response. Musicologists often point to this kind of "epic" songwriting as a way to process big emotions that words can't quite catch. It’s why people use it for "Core Memories" edits. It feels heavy. It feels permanent.
Misconceptions and the "Wedding Song" Irony
I’ve seen people use this at weddings. It’s beautiful, sure. The melody is gorgeous. But if you actually listen to the lyrics, it’s a bit grim for a walk down the aisle.
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"The button has been pressed."
"The television's on, that's how we found out."
It’s literally about a nuclear strike. Using it for a first dance is kind of like using Every Breath You Take by The Police—it sounds romantic until you realize it’s about a stalker. But honestly? Maybe that’s the point. Modern romance feels like it’s happening on the edge of a cliff. Using an apocalyptic anthem to celebrate a union is a very 2026 way of saying "I'm with you until the literal end."
The Technical Brilliance of the Songwriting
Let’s look at the structure for a second. Maltese didn't just write a pop song; he wrote a standard.
The song doesn't follow the typical verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus formula that dominates the Spotify Top 50. It builds. It’s a crescendo.
- It starts with a simple, almost lonely piano.
- The lyrics are conversational: "Get your party dress on."
- The drums kick in with a slow, deliberate waltz beat (3/4 time).
- The strings layer on, getting louder and more chaotic until the climax.
This "waltz" feeling is crucial. A waltz is a dance. By putting a nuclear apocalypse in 3/4 time, Maltese turns the end of the world into a ballroom dance. It’s sophisticated. It’s why the song doesn't feel "dated" like a lot of other 2017 indie tracks. It feels timeless because it borrows from the 1960s lounge-pop era. Think Scott Walker or Burt Bacharach, but with more dread.
How to Lean Into the Aesthetic
If you’re a creator or a musician looking to capture the same energy as As the World Caves In, you have to understand the balance of "The High and the Low."
You can't just be sad. You have to be grandly sad.
The song works because it pairs a very "low" human moment—two people watching TV—with the "high" drama of planetary destruction. To replicate this in your own work or even in your social media content, you should focus on:
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- Contrast: Use cinematic visuals with very mundane, everyday captions.
- Scale: Talk about massive themes (love, death, time) through small objects (a dress, a television, a kiss).
- Production: Reverb is your friend. The "wet" sound of the vocals in both Maltese’s and Cothran’s versions makes it feel like the song is being played in an empty cathedral.
What’s Next for Matt Maltese?
Maltese isn't a one-hit-wonder, though this song is certainly his "Creep" or "Wonderwall." He has released several albums since, including Good Morning It's Now Tomorrow and Driving Just To Drive.
He’s leaned further into the "crooner" persona. He’s become a sort of patron saint for the "sad boy" indie scene, collaborating with artists like Joy Crookes and Celeste. But he seems to have a healthy relationship with his most famous song. He knows it’s a bit of a meme. He knows it’s been covered by everyone from professional opera singers to 12-year-olds on Ukuleles.
The fact that the song continues to trend every few months proves that the "vibe" it captures hasn't gone away. If anything, the world feels even more like it’s caving in now than it did when he wrote it in his bedroom nearly a decade ago.
Moving Forward With the Music
If you want to dive deeper into this genre of "Apocalypse Pop," don't just stop at the TikTok snippets.
Listen to the full album Bad Contestant. It’s full of that same witty, dark, and lush songwriting.
If you're a musician, try playing the song in a different key. You’ll notice how the emotional weight shifts. If you're a listener, try playing it while watching a sunset. It sounds different when the sky is orange.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Creators:
- Study the 1960s: To understand why this song works, listen to Dusty Springfield or The Walker Brothers. That "Wall of Sound" is the DNA of this track.
- Embrace the Satire: Don't forget the song started as a joke about politicians. It’s a reminder that art can be both funny and devastating at the same time.
- Curate Your Space: If this song is on your "Daily Mix," look for "Baroque Pop" playlists. It’ll lead you to artists like Weyes Blood or The Last Shadow Puppets who operate in the same cinematic space.
- Capture the Moment: If you’re using the sound for content, focus on "liminal spaces"—empty malls, quiet streets, or abandoned parks. The song thrives on the tension between humanity and emptiness.
The world might not actually end tomorrow. But as long as it feels like it might, we’re going to keep singing along to Matt Maltese. It’s the only logical thing to do.
Next Steps for Deep Diving:
Check out the "slowed + reverb" versions on YouTube to hear the orchestral layers you might miss at full speed. Then, compare Maltese’s original vocal performance to the live versions—he often adds a layer of dry humor that changes the entire meaning of the "final kiss." Don't just consume the trend; look at the craft behind the chaos.