Samia - Bloodless

It's been five years since Samia's debut. 'The Baby' introduced her diaristic tunings rife with granular detail and an abundance of dry wit soundtracked by a potent concoction of indie folk. 2023's 'Honey' doubled down on this formula while welcoming a more polished pop sound. But, on her third outing, 'Bloodless', Samia is splitting the difference and proving that growth doesn't mean sacrificing anything, least of all your foundations.

'Bovine Excision''s chorus rumbles between dark, off-kilter rhythms. 'Carousel' stop-starts its cacophonous ending, while 'Craziest Person' is a dissonant experimental sketch, and it's in these noisy waves that Samia's new era's confidence grows as she targets the idea of 'man' as an overarching unknown quantity of threat and annoyance. Next up, the country-tinges on 'Fair Game', and the weighty wooze of 'Lizard', prove 'Bloodless' is a wholly evolved version of Samia, one that plays with a new musical element that judders and collides with the bare-faced simplicity of her unfolding.

Happily, Samia is as cutting as ever. "You never loved me like you hate me now," she coos on 'Sacred'. It's here that her craft finds its maturity shining as she embraces the tangled mess that trying to understand and decipher entanglements with the opposite sex. Closer 'Pants' antagonises with a dissonant twang combatting stereo - Samia whispering "Wanna see what's under these Levis? I got nothing under these Levi's" as she dangerously dances with a jazz-inflection before settling amongst the chaotic rising tide.

While many delightful moments crop up across 'Bloodless'' run-time ('Spine Oil' is a standout), somewhat more impressively, every second feels essential to this fully realised whole. This is Samia's most fleshed-out project with all of her components - and some new ones - coming together to craft an excellent album deeply entrenched in the life of this twenty-something songwriter and the theological and romantic musings that entails.