Pop-punk artist Emmyn Calleiro, aka Games We Play, shouts down the voice telling him to quit on “Is This What I’m Made Of,” an explosive gut-punch that makes self-doubt sound funny, furious, and unapologetically alive. Speaking with Atwood Magazine, Calleiro lays bare the burnout and personal reclamation behind his forthcoming sophomore album, ‘I Wish I Never Quit’ – a title that lands like a joke until it starts sounding like a confession. This really is pop-punk at its finest – an anthem for anyone who’s ever feared quitting was a feature, not a bug.

 follow our Today’s Song(s) playlist

Stream: “Is This What I’m Made Of” – Games We Play

It’s kind of me yelling at myself for even wanting to give up. It’s a big conversation with myself. I hope I don’t give up, haha. But I think about it all the time.

* * *

This is what pop-punk is for: Taking the ugly thought you can barely say out loud and blasting it through horns, bright piano chords, gang vocals, and a chorus big enough to make shame sound alive.

On the explosive and exposed “Is This What I’m Made Of,” Games We Play channels self-doubt into one of the year’s most invigorating pop-punk gut-punches – a fun, irresistibly catchy, achingly human anthem that smiles with its teeth clenched and bleeds with the windows down. It’s bright and sing-songy, punchy and raw, hooky as hell and equally heartfelt, with Emmyn Calleiro singing like he’s trying to talk himself out of quitting in real time.

There’s a light, I can feel it
But I’m bound to mess it up
Like I’ve done my whole life
I’m beginnin’ to start believin’
Is this what I’m made of? Yup!

Released as Games We Play’s Nettwerk debut, “Is This What I’m Made Of” is the fiery preview of Calleiro’s forthcoming second album I Wish I Never Quit, out September 18^th. It’s a stunning preview of a record that already sounds like a reset and a reclamation: Not a pivot away from the sharp hooks, humor, and heart-on-sleeve energy that made Games We Play stand out, but a deeper plunge into the person behind the project.

Calleiro has spent years turning anxiety, charm, and self-deprecation into pop-punk rocket fuel. Here, the joke cracks open. The song is still a blast – maybe one of the most purely enjoyable songs he’s ever released – but the fun doesn’t cover the wound. It points straight at it.

“I think the main thing I’d want somebody to take away is that it’s just me writing songs in my house,” Calleiro tells Atwood Magazine.

“Nothing crazy, just singing about my life. Trying to make it sound as cool as I can.”

That plainspoken mission is the whole engine. “Is This What I’m Made Of” doesn’t dress its crisis up in metaphor or bury it under cleverness. It asks the question directly: How many times can you doubt yourself before doubt becomes your identity? How many chances can you get before luck starts to feel like proof that someone else deserved them more? Calleiro sings about manhood, burnout, jealousy, shame, gratitude, wasted opportunities, and the fear of becoming the person who gives up right before the light gets brighter. The song hits because it refuses to make that fear pretty. It makes it loud.

“To be honest, it’s a really deep song for me,” Calleiro says. “It’s about my relationship with my band. About how bad I’ve wanted this to work, about how long I’ve been doing this for, and the feeling of wanting to give up because it hasn’t worked out exactly the way I thought it would. So, when I say “is this what i’m made of?” It’s kind of me yelling at myself for even wanting to give up. It’s a big conversation with myself. I hope I don’t give up, haha. But I think about it all the time.”

I hate starting things again,
burnin’ out from wakin’ up
And I’m afraid I’m not a man,
every day I’m losin’ luck
I’ve had every opportunity
to have the things I love
But if I waste another day,
I will give up
Why can’t I just give up?”

The arrangement refuses to mope, and that’s the genius of it. “Is This What I’m Made Of” charges forward with a showman’s grin and a panic attack in its chest: horns bursting through the frame, piano chords bouncing with old-school pop warmth, drums kicking everything into motion, and Calleiro’s voice riding the whole thing with bratty, wounded conviction. It’s over-the-top in the best possible way, the kind of song that knows a breakdown can hit harder when the room is lit up. Then comes that late-song key change – classic, shameless, electric – and the emotional temperature jumps. The chorus doesn’t just return; it floods the bloodstream. Suddenly the question in the title isn’t a spiral. It’s a dare.

“I think that’s the vision for most of my music,” Calleiro says. “I get bored with music a lot, so I wanted to make this song as over the top as possible. Key changes, horns, tempo changes, gang vocals. I’m into “over the top” music as much as I am into stripped down acoustic music.”

There’s a light, I can feel it
But I’m bound to mess it up
Like I’ve done my whole life
I’m beginnin’ to start believin’
Is this what I’m made of?
Is this what I’m made of?

The second verse cuts deeper because it stops framing doubt as a mood and starts treating it like a family inheritance. Calleiro sings about growing up with the belief that luck came too easily, that his opportunities should have belonged to someone more grateful, more deserving, more disciplined. It’s brutal writing because it’s so specific, and because the song never pauses to ask for pity. The piano keeps bouncing. The hooks keep coming. The whole thing stays airborne while the lyrics dig into core beliefs that clearly still have their hands around his throat.

“My parents always used to tell me I was lucky my whole life,” he says. “It’s kind of personal but when I was a kid, my parents used to yell at me about how I “didn’t try.” How I “got what I wanted” without much effort and how there were people out there that wanted the same things as me or we’re better at music or more appreciative but didn’t always have the opportunities I had when I was young (being able to drop out of school, making an album that my parents helped me pay for when I was 15). So that second verse is kind of me visiting those thoughts now, in my adult age. They’ve turned into core beliefs now, unfortunately, so I was just being honest in that second verse.”

Somehow since I was a kid, I think I’ve been lucky
But it was for somebody else, not for me
Someone who is thankful, who takes their chance
A person that’s nothing like me
Then I met a pretty girl that I think is stupid
‘Cause she has seen every chance, I blew it
But for a reason I don’t understand
She thinks I can do things that I can’t

This honesty matters even more in the shadow of I Wish I Never Quit.

Calleiro has described this album as the first Games We Play record where he wrote every word himself, and that detail gives “Is This What I’m Made Of” extra weight. This isn’t just a song about doubting the band. It’s a song about reclaiming the band from the inside out – taking the fear, the insecurity, the awkwardness, the ugly little thoughts, and refusing to outsource them. The result is not polished distance. It’s ownership. It’s Emmyn Calleiro looking at Games We Play, looking at himself, and deciding the only way forward is to say the thing exactly as only he can.

“I’m not gonna sing about something that’s not important to me anymore,” Calleiro affirms. “It’s coming from my heart. I’ve taken that this is the only way I can do Games We Play. No one can help me say what I have to say, ’cause it’s mine to say.’ Except my wife with the one-off grammatical check (or grammar checks?)… I don’t know how to say that,” he laughs.

That last chuckle is key – “Is This What I’m Made Of” may be heavy, but it never begs to be treated like homework. It’s alive. It’s funny. It’s huge. It has horns, heart, piano, panic, a killer chorus, and a key change that makes the whole thing burst into color at exactly the right moment.

This really is pop-punk at its finest: Messy enough to be real, bright enough to scream along with, and honest enough to leave a mark. Calleiro is still asking the question, and that’s the point. The answer is in the song itself – in the nerve it takes to keep going, keep writing, keep shouting the doubt back at itself until it starts to sound like survival.

I’ll lay in bed when I’m in my head
I don’t have a friend to complain to
There is nothing left, have I reached my end?
I don’t think I’m made for this
For this

That survival is the heartbeat of Games We Play’s new era.

I Wish I Never Quit, out September 18th via Nettwerk, finds Calleiro reckoning with burnout, fatherhood, identity, regret, and the question that nearly ended the project altogether: Whether he still wanted to be a musician. The title is funny because it sounds like a throwaway joke; it stings because it clearly isn’t one. This is the same band he started as a teenager, the same dream he has chased through label changes, tours, doubt, disappointment, and reinvention. Now, as an adult with rent, a baby daughter, and a whole different life pressing against the songs, Calleiro is asking what it costs to keep going – and what it would cost to stop.

That tension gives the album its charge. Recent singles like “The Worst Thing I’ve Ever Done” and “The Smash” push deeper into the same messy, self-aware territory, swapping easy punchlines for confession without losing Games We Play’s bite. “The Smash,” written in frustration after Calleiro was told the album still wasn’t finished, makes a case for trusting his own instincts when everyone else has another opinion. It’s not a detour from “Is This What I’m Made Of.” It’s the next swing in the same fight: A louder, sharper reminder that doing things your own way can be terrifying, but losing yourself to someone else’s version may be worse.

That’s what makes I Wish I Never Quit feel like more than a second album. It’s a self-portrait drawn in piano hooks, pop-punk adrenaline, ridiculous jokes, brutal admissions, and the stubborn belief that a song can still save you from the thought that wrote it. Calleiro may not have every answer yet, but these songs don’t need him to. They are built from the act of continuing – of making the thing anyway, laughing when it hurts, and letting the chorus carry whatever he can’t solve.

So, what is Emmyn Calleiro made of? He doesn’t have a clear answer yet, and maybe that’s okay.

“I still struggle with the same doubts,” he admits. “I still think about quitting all the time. I’m going to therapy for it. So, at the moment, I’m still asking myself the same question.”

Calleiro isn’t pretending “Is This What I’m Made Of” solved the struggle it names; he’s actively living with it, working through it, and deciding what survival looks like from one day to the next. Maybe this is the kind of question we spend our whole lives asking – who we are, what we’re worth, how much fight we still have left in us, and whether the light we feel ahead is enough to keep us moving toward it.

Maybe it’s just another one of those games we play.

There’s a light, I can feel it
But I’m bound to mess it up
Like I’ve done my whole life
I’m beginnin’ to start believin’
Is this what I’m made of?
Is this what I’m made of?

— —

:: stream/purchase Is This What I’m Made Of here ::

:: connect with Games We Play here ::

— —

Stream: “Is This What I’m Made Of” – Games We Play

A CONVERSATION WITH GAMES WE PLAY

Games We Play (Emmyn Calleiro): I think the main thing I’d want somebody to take away is that it’s just me writing songs in my house. Nothing crazy, just singing about my life. Trying to make it sound as cool as i can.

Games We Play: There’s a few! I’d say Billie Joe Armstrong has been a pretty big one as of lately, but also I really love softer music like Pinegrove or Zach Bryan. They all kind of encouraged me to write music by myself which has been a new thing for me for this next record. I’ve always been pretty insecure about my lyric writing, so I am excited/proud that I’m writing all the words.

Games We Play: Wow! This is making me realize I haven’t put out music in a while, haha. That album taught me a lot, transparently, about what I don’t like about making records. But also, every record does that. I’m glad I was really honest for the most part on that record. I meet fans and thats the record that they usually bring up. Its cool, and weird, but mainly cool that that record I made 3 years ago means something to some people.

Games We Play: Well, to be honest, it’s a really deep song for me. It’s about my relationship with my band. About how bad I’ve wanted this to work, about how long I’ve been doing this for, and the feeling of wanting to give up because it hasn’t worked out exactly the way I thought it would. So, when I say “is this what i’m made of?” it’s kind of me yelling at myself for even wanting to give up. It’s a big conversation with myself. I hope I don’t give up, haha. But I think about it all the time.

Games We Play: It’s about my band. I’ve quit a few times with Games We Play when I was growing up. So when I say “bound to mess it up like I’ve done my whole life,” it’s saying that I’ve been here before and I’m just dealing with the fear of doing things I have already done in the past.

Games We Play: My parents always used to tell me I was lucky my whole life. It’s kind of personal but when I was a kid, my parents used to yell at me about how I “didn’t try.” How I “got what I wanted” without much effort and how there were people out there that wanted the same things as me or we’re better at music or more appreciative but didn’t always have the opportunities I had when I was young (being able to drop out of school, making an album that my parents helped me pay for when I was 15). So that second verse is kind of me visiting those thoughts now, in my adult age. They’ve turned into core beliefs now, unfortunately, so I was just being honest in that second verse.

Games We Play: I think that’s the vision for most of my music. I get bored with music alot so I wanted to make this song as over the top as possible. Key changes, horns, tempo changes, gang vocals. I’m into “over the top” music as much as I am into stripped down acoustic music.

Games We Play: That I’m being honest. I’m not gonna sing about something that’s not important to me anymore. It’s coming from my heart. I’ve taken that this is the only way I can do Games We Play. No one can help me say what I have to say, ’cause it’s mine to say.’ Except my wife with the one-off grammatical check (or grammar checks?)… I don’t know how to say that, haha.

Games We Play: I’ve gone back and developed a pretty huge obsession with American Idiot by Green Day recently. It’s rare that somebody hasn’t heard that record, but on the random chance they haven’t… that… And maybe for a tiny bit less commercial artist, I’ve been listening to Tiger’s Blood by Waxahatchee. And this record “Gangster Of Love” by Super American…a randomly incredible record.

Games We Play: I’m not sure. I still struggle with the same doubts. I still think about quitting all the time. I’m going to therapy for it. So, at the moment, I’m still asking myself the same question.

— —

:: stream/purchase Is This What I’m Made Of here ::

:: connect with Games We Play here ::

— —

Stream: “Is This What I’m Made Of” – Games We Play

— — — —

Connect to Games We Play on
Facebook, 𝕏, TikTok, Instagram

Discover new music on Atwood Magazine

 © Juan Flores-Mena

:: Today’s Song(s) ::

 follow our daily playlist on Spotify

:: Stream Games We Play ::