More about: Samia
From the first synth notes of ‘Kill Her Freak Out’, it’s clear Samia has grown up. No longer with the sharp highs and lows, the sly smirk that loved the chaos held in debut album The Baby, instead Honey is settled, sure of itself in a haunting way. In the first notes, Honey sounds like your 20s, like getting to know yourself, like not yet being sure if you love what you see.
“I don’t want to charm anyone this time”, she sings on track two, ‘Charm You’, and it doesn’t seem like there could be a more fitting lyric. Even in the midst of strange, layered vocal production and an ever-changing sonic landscape that throws you from synths to acoustic guitars to grand pianos song after song, Samia’s lyricism rings through as the top level of every track. Centring storytelling and building on the reputation she forged on The Baby, her strength still lies in these deeply singular tales that swoop from second-specific imagery into grand, heartbreaking realisations without feeling forced or overly poetic. Not done in a mission to create captionable, TikTok-able sections, Samia’s finest moments on Honey take you completely by surprise in the whispered ends of second verses or echoed outros - she’s not out to charm, she’s out for full on catharsis.
"A travelogue of every heartache, every memorable story that's stuck with her, every good thing, every moment of rage and love and fun that's carried her out of the coming of age haze and into messy adulthood..."
And the catharsis seems to leak through into everything. Settling into a high-low pattern of soft songs being instantly followed with bigger tracks, Honey seems set on celebrating or documenting the flipsides. Like the sweetness and the sting, I can see why some people might consider it messy or lacking cohesion, but instead I think this is an album that invites immersion if you’re willing. Feeling like a diary chronicling all the ups and downs that have come and gone since her 2020 release. Singing “to me it was a good time” on one track before immediately plunging you into ‘Breathing Song’, her most matter-of-fact lyrical project to date, this is not an album born out of a timeline and season of sessions.
Even in the decision to use the same sample of her grandma’s voice that opened up her debut, it’s clear that Honey is entirely intermeshed with her life, not a separate, new project that had to be ticked off. Instead, Honey feels like a travelogue of every heartache, every memorable story that's stuck with her, every good thing, every moment of rage and love and fun that's carried her out of the coming of age haze and into messy adulthood.
Sometimes beautiful, sometimes dancing but always honest; there are moments on Honey where even Samia doesn’t seem able to write the song. On ‘Breathing Song’ and ‘Kill Her Freak Out’, two incredible stand out tracks, it feels more like a story recited over music than a track, drawing likeness to moments on Nick Cave’s Carnage or some old Patti Smith poetic piece. Creating real boldness in sparsity, the bravery on this album seems impossible to understate.
But it’s not all doom and gloom. As Dickens wrote in a phrase so apt for your 20s; “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. From the joy in ‘Honey’, the dreamlike sweetness of ‘Nanana’ and the jangly fun of ‘Amelia’, the second half of the album especially dabbles in the moments of joy. Like long summer days, moments when you see your mum as a friend or a genuine belly laugh around the table in your house share; along with the heartache, Samia tackles honest experiences of goodness with the same candid clarity.
Finished up with nihilism in ‘The Dream Song’, what better way could the album end? 26 and thinking about death, childhood and feelings that linger so long and feel so hazy you can’t differentiate them from dreams, Samia has the whole experience wrapped up. Captivatingly honest, beautifully brutal and seemingly made for no one but her; Honey is intensely relatable thanks to its deeply personal approach. And we can only thank Samia for sharing.
Honey arrives January 27th
Grab your copy of the Gigwise print magazine here.
More about: Samia