It starts with a ticking clock. Or maybe it's a heartbeat? Either way, the opening of Control by Halsey doesn't just invite you in; it drags you into a very specific, very dark room in Ashley Frangipane’s mind.
Back in 2015, the music industry didn't really know what to do with a blue-haired girl from New Jersey who refused to write standard love songs. They wanted pop. She gave them Badlands. And at the center of that dystopian concept album sat a track that would eventually become an anthem for anyone who has ever felt like a passenger in their own body.
The Anatomy of Control by Halsey
Most people hear the distorted bass and the whisper-to-scream vocals and think it's just another "dark pop" song. They're wrong. Honestly, to understand why this track has such a massive legacy on TikTok and Tumblr—and why it’s still getting millions of streams a decade later—you have to look at what was actually happening when she wrote it.
Halsey has been incredibly open about her diagnosis with Bipolar Disorder. While many artists use mental health as a vague aesthetic, Control by Halsey is a literal, visceral map of a manic episode. "I’m bigger than my body," she sings. That’s not a metaphor. It’s a description of the dissociation and the terrifying physical "bigness" that comes with a high-functioning mental health crisis.
The production, handled largely by Lido, mimics the chaos. There are these jagged, industrial sounds that feel like they’re scraping against the melody. It’s uncomfortable. It’s supposed to be.
What Most People Miss About the Lyrics
There's a specific line that always gets quoted: "I should be scared of myself, but I’m heard instead."
Think about that for a second.
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She isn't saying she's cured. She’s saying that the "monster" inside her—the part of her brain that she can't govern—is the thing that finally gave her a voice. It’s a paradox. You hate the illness, but you realize the illness is the thing that makes people finally pay attention.
I remember reading an interview where she mentioned that the song was written in a moment of pure frustration with her own brain. It wasn't a polished studio session. It was a scream into the void. That's why the vocal delivery feels so strained. You can hear the vocal cords actually catching on those high notes. It’s raw. It’s messy. It’s human.
Why the Internet Won't Let This Song Die
If you spend any time in "Edit" culture—those short-form videos where people cut together clips from movies or anime—you’ve heard this song. It’s everywhere. Why?
Because Control by Halsey perfectly captures the "Villain Arc."
There is a power in the song that transcends the sadness. It’s not a "poor me" track. It’s a "look what I’ve become" track. In the world of Badlands, the fictional setting of her first album, this song represents the moment the protagonist stops trying to escape the wasteland and starts realizing they might be the one running it.
- It’s used for characters like Harley Quinn.
- It’s the soundtrack for Every. Single. Supernatural. Fandom.
- It has survived three different social media platform migrations (Vine to Instagram to TikTok).
Basically, Halsey tapped into a universal feeling of being "othered" by your own mind. We’ve all had those days where we feel like we’re losing our grip on our reactions or our emotions. When she sings about the "mean things" she told a boy, she’s admitting to the ugliness that usually gets edited out of pop music.
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The Sonics of Fear
Technically speaking, the song uses a lot of low-end frequency to create a sense of dread. If you listen with high-quality headphones, you’ll notice a constant, low-level humming. That’s a trick often used in horror movie scores to trigger a physical anxiety response in the listener.
She’s literally hacking your nervous system.
It’s brilliant.
The Badlands Legacy
When Badlands dropped, critics were somewhat split. Some thought it was too moody; others thought it was a masterpiece of world-building. Looking back, it’s clear which side won. The album has been certified Platinum multiple times over.
But Control by Halsey remains the spiritual heart of that era. It’s the bridge between the indie-pop girl she was on the Room 93 EP and the global powerhouse she became with Manic and If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power.
Actually, if you listen to her 2021 album produced by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, you can hear the DNA of "Control" all over it. The industrial grit, the refusal to be "pretty" for the sake of the listener, the exploration of the body as a cage—it all started here.
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A Quick Reality Check on the Stats
- Control was never a massive "Top 40" radio hit in the way "Without Me" was.
- Despite that, it has over 500 million streams on Spotify.
- It’s her most-used song for fan-made content, even outperforming her bigger hits.
- The song achieved RIAA Platinum status purely through "cult" longevity, not a massive marketing push.
This tells us something important about modern music. You don't need a radio edit to stay relevant. You just need to say something that feels true to a fourteen-year-old kid sitting in their bedroom feeling like they don't belong in their own skin.
What We Can Learn From Halsey’s Approach
Honestly, the biggest takeaway from the staying power of this track is the value of specific vulnerability.
If Halsey had written a generic song about "feeling sad," we wouldn't be talking about it ten years later. Instead, she wrote about the specific terrifying sensation of having a "god" or a "monster" take over your consciousness. She used words like "villain" and "claws" and "white sheets."
She leaned into the weird.
For any creator or fan, the lesson is the same: the more "too much" you are, the more likely you are to find people who feel exactly the same way. The music industry spends so much time trying to sand down the edges of artists to make them "relatable." Halsey did the opposite. She sharpened the edges. She made herself dangerous. And in doing so, she became a safe haven for millions of people who also felt a bit "dangerous" or "unstable."
Actionable Insights for Fans and Listeners
If you’re revisiting Control by Halsey today, or if you’re just discovering it because a TikTok transition caught your eye, here is how to actually engage with the depth of the track:
- Listen to the "Badlands (Live from Webster Hall)" version. You can hear her voice cracking and the crowd screaming every word. It changes the context from a studio recording to a communal exorcism.
- Pay attention to the silence. The song uses "negative space"—moments where the music drops out completely—to emphasize the lyrics. It’s a masterclass in tension and release.
- Watch her 2015-2016 live performances. Seeing her physicalize the lyrics on stage helps you understand that this wasn't just a "song" for her; it was a performance of her daily reality at the time.
- Read her book of poetry, I Would Leave Me If I Could. There are several poems in there that act as "sister pieces" to this song, providing even more context to the specific manic episodes that inspired the lyrics.
The song isn't just a piece of music. It’s a timestamp of a person learning to own their chaos. Whether you’re a long-time fan or a casual listener, there’s no denying that the world is a little bit more interesting when artists are brave enough to lose control.