“WHOLE DAMN HEART” by Mitch Dubin

Hailing from Toronto, Canada is Mitch Dubin—a solo artist whose voice carries the weight of lived experience and the courage of unfiltered truth. With “Whole Damn Heart,” the second track on his 2025 album Bars, Bruises & Breakdown Beats, Dubin offers his most vulnerable work yet: not merely a song, but an open letter stitched from pain, gratitude, and the slow, sacred work of recovery.

Written just months after earning his one-year AA medallion, “Whole Damn Heart” is the sound of a man standing in the aftermath of addiction, sifting through what remains, and choosing to rebuild. Its quiet power lies in its honesty—there’s no posturing, no polish for polish’s sake. Instead, Dubin delivers a confessional steeped in humility, love, and the kind of clarity that only comes after chaos.

Structured with evolving choruses—each a variation on the last, anchored only by the refrain of its title—the song draws emotional architecture from the likes of Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well (10-Minute Version).” But while Swift’s masterpiece dances with memory and heartbreak, Dubin’s track walks through the scorched terrain of near-loss and hard-earned survival. The melody remains steady, yet the words shift like weather—moving from sorrow to grace, from apology to gratitude. What makes “Whole Damn Heart” resonate so deeply is its grounding in real life. It is a tribute not only to sobriety but to the people who stood beside him when he couldn’t stand on his own: his wife, his sons, his sister, his parents. Their presence is felt not as poetic devices, but as anchors. This isn’t just a love song—it’s a lifeline.

Dubin may be a solo act, but he’s not walking this road alone. His sponsor and collaborator Ken, a 72-year-old composer and fellow AA member, has been a quiet force behind the music. That mentorship, that lived wisdom, gives the song its depth and sense of purpose. There’s an intergenerational resonance here, a reminder that healing is rarely a solo endeavor. Musically, the track is unadorned yet rich, its simplicity allowing the emotion to speak clearly. It doesn’t ask for sympathy—it extends solidarity. With “Whole Damn Heart,” Mitch Dubin doesn’t just share a chapter of his story—he offers it up, whole and unguarded. It’s a song for anyone clawing their way toward the light, and for those who held it steady along the way.

Garcia Penned 🖊️