On her latest album, SZA reckons with healing and the cost of growth
By NATALIE SALTER—arts@theaggie.org
SZA is not afraid to contradict herself. On the title track of 2022’s “SOS,” the lyrics read, “No more fuck-shit, I’m done / Damn right, I’m the one” — but 12 tracks later, she laments upon her misgivings and crushing self-loathing post-breakup: “If I’m real, I deserve less / If I were you I wouldn’t take me back” (“Nobody Gets Me”). “SOS” plays out like a high-stakes tennis match between SZA’s ego and insecurities, swinging between effervescent self-confidence (“Conceited”) and a desperation to not be alone so intense it drives her to the point of plotting bloody vengeance (“Kill Bill”).
The triumph of “SOS,” and SZA’s artistry as a whole, is her ability to exist within both of these two extremes and the expanse of emotions in between without once coming across as disjointed or confused. Accentuated by diverse instrumental landscapes and delightfully cheeky lyricsim (“Damn, bitch, you so thirsty” from “Shirt”), SZA’s willingness to be simultaneously ferociously self-assured and self-critical makes her songwriting not only deeply relatable but a refreshing dose of genuine vulnerability in an industry that only celebrates authenticity so long as it isn’t too uncomfortable for commercial audiences.
Just before 2024 came to a close, SZA announced that she would be expanding “SOS” to a deluxe album, with the inclusion of 15 new tracks and a new title, “LANA.” Though perhaps more sonically consistent than its tempestuous predecessor, “LANA” is a clear continuation of the original album’s assertive yet unguarded storytelling.
An aptly titled first note of the album, the ensuing slew of tracks candidly present her deepest desires and worst hurts without restraint.
“I wanna feel sun on my skin / Even if it burns or blinds me / I wanna be purified within,” the lyrics read on “No More Hiding.”
As before, SZA refuses to let herself be strictly defined on this album. She gracefully dances between identities from track to track. The SZA we hear on “Drive” regrets her inability to make good on her promises of self-improvement and the lack of fulfillment she suffers within her current lifestyle. Then, on “30 for 30 (with Kendrick Lamar)” she tosses out expletives and dismissals with a devil-may-care attitude. She swings back into heart-aching introspection on “Kitchen,” but her bravado returns in full on “My Turn” — a fiercely infectious revenge track that channels “Kill Bill,” though is decidedly less bloodsoaked in its narrative.
SZA’s dissatisfaction with the pitfalls of modern life takes the front seat on “LANA.” “Saturn,” a track which predated the full deluxe album by over six months, lets her turn deeply philosophical as she wonders upon her purpose in a world filled with so much suffering.
“If there’s a point to being good, then where’s my reward? / The good die young and poor,” the lyrics read.
She fantasizes about floating away to another planet against a soundscape as exquisitely dreamy as its lyricism, maintaining a delicate balance between melancholy and hopefulness.
Where “SOS” thrived on roaring hooks as a framework for SZA’s intense declarations, the introspective thematic storytelling of “LANA” is composed of more diaphanous sounds. The chorus of “Kitchen” floats over a twinking, ethereal melody; “Crybaby” is enchantingly hypnotic in its slow-paced string backdrop. Side by side on the album, they work in tandem to create a soothing and near-divine listening experience.
On “BMF,” SZA interpolates “The Girl From Ipanema” to craft a blushing, bright ode to new crushes and fluttering first attraction. “Another Life” is elevated from a mere breakup piece to a transcendent reflection on love that could have been thanks to its warm, soaring tune. A bittersweet mixture of affection and mourning seeps into her mesmerizing vocals as she wishes for the stars to align for the love she knows could be the one.
SZA’s touch is verifiable magic — whatever she chooses to bring to life with her captivating voice is instantaneously alchemized into an extraordinary blend of burning emotions and everlasting dreams. Furthermore, the production on “LANA” is arguably her best yet, ascending beyond what SZA has ever done before to create a unique, entirely singular universe of her own.
Of course, some things never change. Damaged relationships occupy her psyche as much as ever — on “What Do I Do,” SZA finds herself paralyzed in the wake of an accidental discovery of her partner’s infidelity. “Love Me 4 Me,” which is made otherworldly by its atmospheric production and haunting instrumentals, gives her the chance to admit that she “romanticize[s] the scariest things,” chasing red flags only to be unloved by their bearers.
Likewise, she’s just as ready to get her knuckles bloody here as she was on “SOS.” A rippling, almost alien sequence of notes skips like a pebble across a lake behind a series of threatening assertions on “Get Behind Me (Interlude).” But where attacking her problems with a headstrong attitude was at the top of her rulebook before, the SZA of “LANA” seems more interested in analyzing her own behavior in order to free herself of it. She’d now much rather blame herself for being foolish and trusting than condemn an ex for betraying her, and she’s choosing to get her hands dirty by digging into her own misgivings rather than swinging at someone else’s.
From as early as 2017’s “CTRL,” SZA has mused upon the idea of healing, questioning if she will ever achieve serenity with herself and the world. She’s danced around it, masked her desire for it with romantic escapades and proclamations of an unbreakable self-worth and even toyed with it momentarily before dropping it for the edgier pessimism that dots the album’s 23-track run.
But on “LANA,” she finally dives into it headfirst. She knows she has a long way to go — (“Maybe if I stopped blaming the world for my faults, I could evolve”), the lyrics read on “Crybaby” — but 15 tracks later, she’s ready to face the challenges it may bring. After all, she said it herself that one must “break it if you want it to grow” (“No More Hiding”). She’s broken herself already; years of bitingly self-effacing lyrics guarantee that.
She’s grown too, as an artist and as a person, “LANA” in particular glowing with emotional maturity beyond what she’s ever done before. And not only is she ready to grow and heal through music again — but this time, it’s in lyrics meant to be screamed along to in cars and cried alongside of during nights of despair, she’s taking us along with her.
Written by: Natalie Salter—arts@theaggie.org