Review Summary: There won't be blood
The review summary is my attempt at a joke, but the word “blood” actually does come up plenty on Samia’s latest full-length. Couple that with the kinda creepy look of the album artwork, and you might surmise this effort is much more menacing and/or edgy than it actually is. The singer-songwriter’s lyrical style has always been a cryptic mix of oddly specific details and overall abstraction, but as best I can tell, the focus here is on growing up and the development, maintenance, and loss of personal identity. And, well, setting blood transfusions aside, what’s more intrinsic to an individual than their blood?
Speaking of development of personal identity, this third LP sees Samia coming fully into her own as an artist. She’s long had obvious potential - debut
The Baby was an impressive start, if a touch underdeveloped, and follow-up
Honey, while wildly uneven, had its moments. Myself, I’m immensely partial to 2021’s
Scout, which served as a masterclass in writing both emotional stunners and straightforward bops, but given that was a short four-song EP, Samia’s ability to produce a full album statement on that level remained unproven.
The future is now, I guess.
Bloodless comes together far more successfully than either of its predecessor full-lengths, its thirteen tracks both well-paced and maintaining a coherent summer night atmosphere. It’s notable that, as per usual, Samia hasn’t picked a lane here, instead dipping into pop, indie, and folk stylings as she sees fit. Those tangled threads blend artfully rather than clash jarringly though. The singer-songwriter’s vocal performance is in top form, enough so to overcome the occasional off-putting line (SAMIA: “
jack off to someone who’s pregnant”, ME: “
did I hear that right?”, immediately checks lyrics, etc.), even as most of the lyricism is potent, and the instrumentals are relentlessly engaging. The hooks are some of the best you’ll hear this year, too, from the prominent beats of “Lizard” to the inescapable chorus of “Spine Oil” and the anthemic Lorde-esque propulsion of “North Poles”.
Bloodless isn’t quite a perfect album - “Craziest Person” is simultaneously a little too unsubtle in delivery and abrupt in ending, while closer “Pants” contains multiple great ideas slightly fumbled by an odd, stitched-together, arrangement. But there’s something absurdly listenable about the whole package, and I suspect that the listening experience will only get better as the weeks go by and the thermostat cranks up to increasingly unbearable temperatures. This is, after all, one of those records built for those moments spent wallowing in the heat haze. Sounds like a bloody good time.
