Releasing Control to Save Our Souls
My Review of SZA’s S.O.S.
In 2017, SZA didn’t hold back from expressing her personal and relational insecurities and anxiety about lacking direction as a twenty-something on her debut album Ctrl. On S.O.S. (2022), her highly anticipated sophomore album, she still carries self-doubt but does so alongside a truckload of other emotions, many of which seem to contradict one another on paper. Confidence and co-dependency. Entitlement and embarrassment. Self-destruction and freedom.
I first encountered SZA’s music as a nervous sixteen-year-old. Those who know me know I’m drawn to raw media that doesn't shy away from expressing the emotional experience of girlhood and young womanhood, and that’s exactly what SZA’s music does. Within the first couple of minutes on Ctrl, SZA is already telling listeners that she needs attention to feel happy and wishes she was more comfortable with herself on the opening track “Supermodel.” The rawness of her lyrics, at times entirely stripped of metaphor for transparency’s sake, had my jaw on the floor in awe on my first listen. I forever feel blessed that I got the opportunity to see her in concert at a 1000-seat theater for my seventeenth birthday before she blew up.
After five years, a handful of singles, and a Grammy, SZA finally released her second album. I emphasize “finally,” as it’s a body of work music fans have been yearning for quite intensely. Following the critical, commercial, and cultural success of Ctrl, I can understand why this album took a while for SZA to release, especially since she has cited anxiety as a factor holding her back from releasing music.
The striking album art for S.O.S. features SZA seated on a diving board, staring off into the distance over blue ripples of ocean. SZA confirmed that the cover was inspired by a photo of Princess Diana aboard a yacht in Portofino, Italy in 1997. She told NME she was inspired by how isolated Diana appears, as that’s what she sought to convey in the cover art.
The album’s title suggests that SZA wants to be rescued from isolation. And while she certainly vocalizes her disdain for loneliness (she sings “rather be in hell than be alone” on the track “Kill Bill”), her expression in the album art tells a different story. She stares blissfully and unabashedly at the horizonless sky. This, paired with the mixed tone of the album’s songs, suggests her ability to view isolating experiences like heartbreak with the complexity inherent in them. She can feel on top of the world one minute and in the trenches of insecurity the next, always with a high level of self-awareness. Perhaps no flare signal is needed after all.
Most of the criticism I’ve read about this album has been related to its scattered nature. SZA’s emotions are seemingly all over the place. Even the genre of songs waver, between rapped tracks like “SOS” and “Smoking On My Ex Pack,” to an Avril-esque head-banger like “F2F,” to a sappy Taylor Swift-like moment on “Special.” SZA’s head is in a million places: how is it possible for her to want casual intimacy, a monogamous relationship, and distance all at once? Can this woman just figure out what she wants! Twitter seems to scream in response.
The issue is: SZA knows exactly what she wants and needs. It’s just that it’s a lot. This is something that she even admits to on my favorite track on the album, “Blind.” In the chorus, she sings:
“It’s so embarrassing
All of the things I need, living inside of me
I can’t see it
It’s so embarrassing
All of the love I seek, living inside of me
I can’t see, I’m blind.”
SZA makes it known to viewers that she’s aware of her erratic nature. She contains multitudes of contradictions because of course she does: she’s human.
People are so eager to categorize just about everything from music genres, to emotions, to other people. Things are black or white, day or night. A song is about insecurity or confidence, love or heartbreak. People are happy or sad, level-headed or insane. We do this because it gives us a sense of control and protects us from the dangers of uncertainty. How can we possibly cushion our fall if we don’t know how far we’re falling or what lies at the bottom of the abyss? But as SZA taught us in 2017 with Ctrl: control is an illusion. While we can strive to manage what is in our hands, some of it isn’t up to us. Learning to let go of the desire to control and simply accept what is, enduring all the emotions that come with it, can be challenging. And freeing.
On S.O.S., SZA holds a master class in feeling emotions as they come. She has a way of savoring her sadness, making poetry out of even her most self-destructive moments. I can understand why some may find her sorrowful lyrics unappealing, but to romantics like me, it’s pure perfection.
SZA turns the saturation up on each and every feeling that comes her way. Experiencing firey rage post-break-up, she admits she wants to kill her ex and his new girlfriend on “Kill Bill” (“I might kill my ex, not the best idea”). She revels in her commercial success and confidence on “Conceited” (“I got everything I need and I want more”) and follows it up with the teary-eyed track “Special” (“I wish I was special/I gave all my special away to a loser”). In the spirit of “Kill Bill,” SZA spells out her hatred for her ex once again in bold font on “I Hate U” (“And if you wondered if I hate you (I do)”). Yet, she keeps listeners on their toes by following up the song with “Open Arms,” insisting she’ll gladly wait and take her former lover back with “open arms.”
After confessing to her murder fantasy on “Kill Bill,” SZA ironically chants “I’m so mature, I’m so mature.” Despite this, I, believe it or not, think S.O.S. exhibits SZA’s emotional growth since releasing Ctrl. Yes, she’s spilling her guts, disclosing vulnerable information about her perception of herself and her relationships, and a lot of it is messy. But she is always in tune with the messiness of her emotions, leaning into it to create art that’s as grandiose as it is relatable.
The scattered nature of S.O.S does make the listening experience feel a little broken. After experiencing seamless transitions on Beyoncé’s 2022 album RENAISSANCE not too long ago, the disconnect between each track on this record can make my brain do a little more work than it desires, adapting to the tone of each new song. And I do wish all of the album’s singles weren’t squished together at the end, as it feels a little lazy.
At the same time, I am absolutely in love with S.O.S. and its devotion to validating human complexity. I think this album is best appreciated when it’s listened to as a series of vignettes. With each song, we are peering through stained-glass windows at different moments in SZA’s personal and professional journey. There are peaks and valleys, but she ties things up well by placing “Good Days” and “Forgiveness” as the album’s last two tracks. In “Good Days,” she croons about the value of remaining in the present, even in the face of tough times. And on “Forgiveness,” SZA makes it clear that it’s possible to move on, learn to open back up again, and still protect yourself (“I might forgive it, I won’t forget it”). Always embracing duality. Always “and,” never “or.”
Setting yourself adrift, distancing yourself from the experiences that have hurt you, can feel frightening. But with time and an ever-changing shift in mood and mindset: isolation can become freedom.