Not For $ale’s New Single The 47th Is an Anthem Against Authoritarianism

With their debut track The Pretender, Not For $ale made an unflinching entrance into the political rock arena—naming names, confronting power, and daring listeners to question the direction of democracy. Now, the project returns with The 47th, a sharper, more layered statement that shifts from pure outrage to a sobering, wide-angle critique of the systems that enable authoritarianism to thrive.

In this new single, Not For $ale turns the lens on the culture of disinformation, spectacle politics, and institutional erosion—warning of a tipping point where democracy risks slipping into something far darker. It’s a track built on urgency and resistance, infused with raw energy and a deep unease about the path ahead. We spoke with the artist about the evolution from The Pretender to The 47th, the current political climate’s influence on their writing, and why they believe music still has the power to unite people against authoritarian drift.

Your previous track “The Pretender” was bold and direct — with “The 47th,” the message feels even more layered. What drove the evolution from protest to deeper critique? 

At first, The Pretender was more of a warning, almost surreal in tone. I didn’t truly believe it could happen again. I thought Americans wouldn’t be naïve enough to re-elect him. That disbelief gave the song its raw energy, laced with sarcasm. But with The 47th, things became more complex. The narrative shifted from hypothesis to reality. What began as populist rhetoric, promising to restore America’s former greatness, has turned into a far more serious threat. Once the “pretender” becomes the 47th president, he feels legitimized. And that’s where the danger becomes tangible: the sense of absolute power and impunity is enormous, especially in someone with an inflated ego and narcissistic tendencies. What’s even more alarming today is the collapse of institutional safeguards, especially the separation between political power and justice. There’s no longer a firewall. The idea of self-pardoning is no longer a theoretical absurdity; it’s a real.

What does the title “The 47th” symbolize for you beyond the obvious political reference? Is it about a person, a moment, or a system? 

The 47th isn’t just a person; it’s a turning point. The title refers to the current president, but more importantly, it symbolizes a moment when the system exposes its own cracks. It’s the tipping point where democracy, if left unguarded, can slip into something darker. It’s also about the way politics is conducted today, shaped by nonstop information and rampant disinformation. The boundaries between truth and manipulation have blurred. When someone thrives in that chaos and holds the highest office, it’s not merely a political event; it’s a reflection of a deeply distorted political landscape. The 47th becomes a symbol of that distortion, and of the danger that arises when spectacle replaces substance. And that’s where the feeling becomes more complex: both sad and alarming. Sad, because we’re witnessing the quiet erosion of an ideal, a democracy built on reason, debate, and truth. Alarming, because the shift doesn’t happen abruptly, but insidiously, masked as strategy, entertainment, and cynicism. Scandal becomes routine, lies become opinions, and truth… just another option. Yet The 47th could also serve as a wake-up call. A moment of reckoning where outrage turns into action, and disillusionment into renewed commitment. Paradoxically, it might be the shock needed for society to rediscover the value of its principles and finally choose to defend them with clarity and courage.

How did the current political climate influence the writing and tone of this new track? 

The tone of this track is much more serious and alarming. We’re facing the president of the most powerful country in the world, acting like a bully. A pathological narcissist whose actions go beyond mere provocation; they follow a deliberate strategy of division and manipulation. This isn’t politics anymore. It’s a permanent performance, where ego overrides principles and truth becomes flexible. Just look at the wars currently unfolding, and this figure who claims he could end them instantly, as if he alone held the keys to world peace. These kinds of statements, both absurd and dangerous, reveal a vision of power that’s disconnected from reality, yet disturbingly effective in seducing crowds hungry for simple answers to complex problems. He’s so polarizing that an American implosion would hardly be surprising. The album cover is a striking depiction of a burning, fractured, almost unrecognizable America. It perfectly captures this extreme tension. It shows a nation in decline, consumed by its own contradictions, rage, and illusions. At this point, an external attack seems just as plausible as an internal collapse. The country looks brittle, exposed on every front: politically, socially, emotionally. The image isn’t just decoration; it’s an eloquent illustration of the current climate, a visual expression of the deep unrest running through society. This atmosphere, marked by verbal brutality, contempt for institutions, and the glorification of chaos, deeply shaped the writing. It’s no longer about commenting on current events, but about sounding the alarm. The track reflects that urgency, that unease, and the refusal to stay silent in the face of what increasingly resembles an authoritarian drift.

You describe this song as a revolt against illusion and authoritarian drift. Was there a specific event or realization that sparked it? 

The trigger was, of course, that improbable re-election. It left me speechless. I found myself in a moment where reality surpassed fiction, where the absurd imposed itself with such force that I was frozen, seized by vertigo. As if something fundamental had cracked. I watched reality unravel, piece by piece, in a series of signs as troubling as they were incomprehensible. A drift, almost insidious, where lies became commonplace, institutions were mocked, and the media noise drowned out the truth. Seeing reality twist under the weight of performance pushed me to respond. This piece was born from an urgent need to say no: no to manufactured confusion, no to manipulation, no to a form of power that thrives on chaos.

Do you think music still has the power to create real political or cultural change, or is its role more about reflection and resistance? 

I believe, above all, that music has the power to bring people together. And it is those who come together who can spark real change. Music, on its own, doesn’t transform structures, but it creates connection. It brings together sensibilities, gives a voice to those who have none. It’s a megaphone that can be heard on a large scale, crossing borders, languages, and social barriers. It can awaken, mobilize, and stir a collective consciousness. And within that resonance lies the potential for transformation. The text The 47th is rooted in a refusal to remain silent. It seeks to provoke resistance, to keep critical thought alive. Music doesn’t change the world on its own, but it can stand beside those who try to. It can create spaces of resonance, solidarity, and clarity. And in a landscape saturated with noise, cynicism, and distraction, it awakens consciousness where power seeks to lull it to sleep.

“The 47th”: https://open.spotify.com/intl-pt/album/0fySDSgo64ub8FLKY4TiOq