Dax – “Diary Of An Alcoholic (10 Shots)” (song review)

Dax stays in that lane where confessional rap meets outreach. After “Man I Used To Be,” he returns with a mid-tempo check-in that feels more like a conversation than a flex: clear hook, plainspoken verses, and a message aimed at anyone flirting with the edge.

The official video lands on his channel with a line that frames the intent before the first bar: “Diary Of An Alcoholic is a personal song I wrote… Share this… Somebody out there needs this,” so you know exactly who he’s speaking to.

Musically, “Diary Of An Alcoholic (10 Shots)” sits on steady guitar strums and tight percussion; it’s tidy and radio-ready, leaving space for the story to breathe.

The hook tells the whole story. He maps ten short vignettes to ten shots, one to loosen up, two to numb, nine to get home late, ten to “have a night I won’t remember.”

Counting becomes a caution sign you can’t miss, the kind you can send to a friend without a lecture attached.

If there’s a caveat, it’s only that the approach will feel familiar to anyone who’s lived with “Dear Alcohol” and his recent reflective singles: a tidy acoustic-leaning chassis, a clear outreach caption.

For this song, that consistency reads as intentional rather than safe; however, the point is clarity, and he delivers it.

Verses widen the picture with wordplay that flips brands into warnings, “spirits” draining joy, bottles turning moments into blanks, before landing on the diary motif, pages he’s “bleeding on” to forget.

It captures a report from inside the cycle: self-awareness, relapse risk, regret, repeat. If you’ve followed his sobriety-adjacent work, “Dear Alcohol” most obviously, this feels like the next chapter in an ongoing, public self-audit.

Part of why it connects is the role Dax has carved out around releases like this: equal parts motivator and friend, the artist who writes the thing people are afraid to say out loud and then asks you to share it.

He said as much in the upload caption here, and he’s been walking that line across the recent run.

It’s an open-handed warning with a steady groove. Guitar and percussion keep the pocket calm and intentional; the hook is catchy; the message is deep. If the last few months have been about naming what hurts and moving with it, “10 Shots” turns it into a signpost someone else can use on their way home.