[ad_1]
From a young age, Simbiatu Ajikawo has been intolerant of betrayal. Her celebrated discography features sharp lines targeting disloyalty, and even at the age of eleven, she rapped, “I’m Little Simz and I set trends/Don’t like liars/I hate fake friends,” when her sister brought her to perform at BBC’s Radio 1 Xtra. Her significant breakthrough as Little Simz arrived later with 2018’s Grey Area, which earned a nomination for the esteemed Mercury Prize in the U.K., and followed by 2021’s Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, which won the award. She continued with No Thank You, where she critiqued the music industry, revealing a darker, more exhausting reality behind its shiny facade.
Inflo – the talent behind music for Adele and Tyler, The Creator, as well as a key figure in the enigmatic collective SAULT alongside Simz and his wife, Cleo Sol – produced all three of Simz’s recent albums. Simz has openly cherished her creative collaboration with Inflo, which began when she was just 9 years old. However, in March, The Guardian reported that she is suing him, known as Dean Josiah Cover, for allegedly failing to repay a $2.2 million loan – part of which funded SAULT’s sole live show of 2023 – leaving her in a difficult financial situation and unable to pay her taxes, leading to penalties.
On “Thief,” the striking opener of Lotus, her sixth album and the first without Inflo in seven years, Simz raps, “Why do you steal? Why do you spill blood and then go hide?” and “Why do you take the rule book from people that hurt you and use it as a guide?/I’m lucky that I got out now, it’s a shame though, I really feel sorry for your wife.” The track thrashes with 90s grunge vibes while Simz delivers scathing lines reminiscent of Kendrick Lamar’s infamous Drake diss “Euphoria.”
The public nature of her split with Inflo and how candidly she addresses it on Lotus make it a deeply personal addition to her body of work – listening feels more like an intimate experience than any of her past projects. There’s a poignant reminder of her refusal to mask the truth with intricate poetic devices when she tells Wretch 32 not to do so on “Blood,” where they exchange verses portraying siblings in conflict. Lotus is a remarkable album, in part due to the discomfort of tracks like “Thief” and “Blood,” akin to witnessing an unfortunate accident and feeling more alive because of it. Emerging from a broken childhood friendship, Lotus pays rigorous tribute to the trauma and wisdom gained from genuine maturation.
Lotus is also a triumph because of its intricate and expansive production, marking a satisfying accomplishment under challenging conditions. In “Lonely,” she expresses, “Lonely making an album is tackling all doubt/I’m used to making it with [there’s a censor beep instead of a name], can I do it without?” Yet, with new producer Miles Clinton James, the instrumentals shine with clarity and rawness, featuring the rugged rock of “Thief,” “Flood,” “Young,” “Enough,” and “Lotus,” the jazzy R&B of “Lonely” and “Free,” the stripped-down acoustics of “Peace,” the orchestral lament of “Hallow,” the vintage Afrobeat of “Lion,” and the vibrant bossa nova of “Only.” Where Lotus is enjoyable, it feels effortlessly so, and where it takes a serious tone, it remains subtle. The album retains traces of the airy essence of Simz’s earlier collaborations with Inflo, Cleo Sol, and SAULT, a group where these two women stood out amidst mostly anonymous collaborators. Yet, these echoes signify Simz asserting her influence on a sound she helped evolve.
Little Simz’s hard-won self-worth permeates the album. Much of her standout rapping here arises from adversity – a parallel to what a lotus represents, a flower that blooms from muddy waters. “I know my mind is a textbook they can learn from even though I ain’t got a diploma,” she reflects on “Blue,” amidst a steady flow rich with empathetic insights on poverty, incarceration, family, and mortality. “Free” is a deeply impactful piece of wisdom, crafted with careful foreshadowing contrasting a clever first verse about love’s reality and a second verse highlighting fear’s threats to it. “I think that’s a lethal weapon,” she asserts.
While Lotus showcases Simz as both victim and survivor, it brims with empathy for the complexities of the human journey, recognizing the struggles of even those who harm her. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, but thought you were good at your core,” she raps on “Hallow,” emphasizing a sentiment from “Thief” that true healing must begin within: “I’m tryna forgive myself,” she expresses, “I don’t need to forgive you for my own healing.”
[ad_2]
Source link