Samia - Honey
By Enya Xiang
Samia’s sophomore album Honey (2023) tastes like tears rolling down your cheeks as you scribble violently in a diary. In her storyboard of smalltown America, the 26-year-old artist remembers her tender childhood, tainted blue by memories of addiction and painful relationships. Honey follows the bitter process of healing, and despite her unmistakable loneliness, Samia shows us that hope can be found in darkness.
Opener ‘Kill Her Freak Out’ plays out a murder fantasy: “I hope you marry the girl from your hometown / And I’ll fucking kill her, and I’ll fucking freak out”. Against a slow funeral organ chord, Samia shows off the full range of her crisp voice as she admits, “I’ve never felt so unworthy of loving”. ‘Kill Her Freak Out’ readies listeners for the album’s deeply personal nature and visceral confessions.
Midway through the record, Samia contrasts her opening statement in acoustic sing-along ‘To Me It Was’. “Don’t freak out, it’s gonna be alright,” she hums reassuringly. She asks a close friend if anything could be better than “Than sitting on your porch remembering it?” The past, however, is not as always so wonderful. Samia cautions, “But maybe you didn’t need tequila for this / Trying to drown in the fountain of youth”. The track ends with a recording of her Lebanese grandmother singing a love song in Arabic. This memento of familial love marks Samia’s starting point for healing.
Even the glittery 80s-alt-pop cut ‘Mad At Me’, replete with synths and screeching electric guitar, drifts towards dysphoria. Samia reflects on a broken relationship, wondering if she will ever gain closure, but fearing the answer. This collaboration with Minneapolis-based Senegambian artist Papa Mbye differs stylistically from the album’s other songs, but encapsulates Samia’s sad, dreamy world.
‘Breathing Song’ and ‘Honey’ combine to tell Samia’s most difficult story. Teasing her album on Instagram, she describes the two songs: “one of them is mocking myself, the other is trying to accept myself.” Picking up the pieces of a past relationship, she comes clean, “I loved coming over ‘cause it felt like dying.” She hints to an experience of sexual assault, remembering “Raggedy Ann legs” and a bloody visit to the ER. An autotuned chorus echoes, her voice turning shrill and metallic, mimicking the feeling of reliving a nightmare.
The bubbly, danceable ‘Honey’ picks up the pace, as a summery guitar strums along. In an interview, Samia explained that the album’s namesake reflects a time when she distracted herself by drinking. Her whimsical lyrics reflect alcohol’s mischievous effects as her light-hearted voice swells: “I wanna be a mermaid / I’m not scared of sharks, I’m not scared to be naked”. Her happiest song is also the saddest. Her deepest hurt returns in the bridge as she recalls, “All you can do when he needs you is close your eyes”.
The harrowing journey to personal peace reaches a turning point in the last track, ‘Dream Song’. Samia acknowledges the difficulty of her ongoing healing process, announcing, “When I finally forgive myself / I’ll be tired and sunburnt”. Her promise that “You get your dreams for free” reminds us that we have the power to liberate ourselves from grief.
“Optimism is the saddest thing in the world to me and I have a lot of it,” Samia stated in a Guardian interview. Honey follows a journey of self-restoration, a teary fight for a future happiness that she will grasp one day. The weight of the past will eventually lift.