Samia’s introspective new album, Honey, opens with a delusional, searing confession delivered amidst a somber funeral organ. She parallels SZA’s recent hit, “Kill Bill,” and daydreams about killing an ex’s new lover. In recent interviews, she consistently describes her second LP as ‘pathologically confessional.’ True to her word, the album’s lead single and opening track, “Kill Her Freak Out,” feels like the emotional equivalent of a whimper from a wounded animal and it’s not even the most sorrowful track on the record.
In her next song, Samia flips the narrative on its head. In “Charm You,” she no longer cares to bend the truth for her partner. Instead, she’s cloaked in nonchalance, an evolution from her previous LP’s “Limbo Bitch.” In an interview with Atwood Magazine, she stated that each song builds on the next one, which is by no means a new or novel idea for songwriters, but the ability to reference older works and to build cohesive storylines (and to do it well) is an understated talent. Samia’s take on it is refreshing and revealing. Take for example, the three-song run “Pink Ballon,” “Mad At Me” and “Sea Lions,” which tells the story of a friendship gone awry.
“Breathing Song” is the clear standout from the bunch. It lacks the pop appeal of earlier singles like “Honey” and “Mad At Me” and will likely lag behind in streaming numbers. The unsubtle and brutal lyricism makes it hard to hear more than once in a row. It’s a moving and deeply painful account of what can only be interpreted as sexual assault. Perhaps the hardest part to bear is the song’s circular movement. She teeters between accepting her own reality and clinging to her abuser’s version of the story, denying what she knows to be true. There’s no resolution or solace to be found here.
“Breathing Song” was released as a companion to the title track (“Honey”), which tells the same story from a different perspective. The connection is faint and impalpable; it would be missed easily if we hadn’t been explicitly told so. Despite the dulcet tune of the song (pun intended), she describes this as ‘the saddest song [she’s] ever written.‘ Go figure.
But fear not, this story gets a happy ending. The final songs show Samia finding love and romanticizing the mundane (”Nanana”), serve as an ode to her friends (”Amelia”) and beckon forward an age of hope (“Dream Song”). With such a strong and charming second LP, Samia is set to become an indie darling.
Buket is recent graduate of the University of Georgia (Music Business Alum) and the current Editor-in-Chief of Vinyl Mag. She believes that a sincere lover of music can find something to like in just about any song. She loves to write to escape the grueling and mindless drudgery of late-stage capitalism. She is currently on a gap year abroad, spending her free time drumming up new ideas for Vinyl Mag and trying to beat her previous Spotify Wrapped "My Minutes Listened" record.