SZA Ctrl Album Download
The long-awaited debut album from the Jersey singer is an opulent, raw R&B album that constantly pushes the genre’s boundaries. SZA’s deeply personal perspective on modern romance breathes new life into these songs.
SZA’s debut album, originally titled A, was supposed to conclude a trilogy of self-titled releases following 2013’s S and 2014’s Z—her official entry into the music world. The film’s release date was originally set for summer 2016, and she revealed in an interview with Entertainment Weekly at the time that it would be a candid account of her romantic life, warts and all. “I’m talking a lot of grimy shit, but it’s the truth,” she admitted. The fearless style of her grimy shit fermented into a powerful R&B set piece unlike any released in recent memory during the year the album sat in the wings with her label TDE.
CTRL is about sexual freedom while also taking your desire for intimacy seriously. SZA sings about Forrest Gump on the woozy “Doves in the Wind,” not a figure running through her mind like Frank Ocean, but the kind of guy who sees women as more than their bodies and who “deserve the whole box of chocolates.” SZA, born Solána Rowe, appears to find solace in the freewheeling Forrest Gump character Jenny Curran (on Z track “Warm Winds,” SZA quotes young Jenny’s prayer, “Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away”). But SZA finds solace in Forrest’s kindness to the adult Jenny. That sentiment (without literal references to Forrest Gump) shines through on tracks like the heartbreaking “Normal Girl,” about being unable to find a paramour who wants to take her home to meet his family, not just home to his bedroom.
SZA’s examination of modern dating is not always self-aware. “Love Galore,” featuring an able Travis Scott, is the ideal anthem for those who aren’t looking for a pen pal. “Why bother me when you know you don’t want me?” SZA and Scott ask. It’s a sentiment that feels especially powerful in 2017, when loneliness is so much easier to combat through technology rather than face-to-face interaction. A friend will tell you that she quit Tinder because she was tired of having ten text-boyfriends but only one who has ever asked her out on a real date.
SZA works outside of her genres, a distinction that is nearly meaningless in the polygluttonous context of 2017. Her forefathers are more Keyshia Cole and Mary J. Blige, who have been hurt and have been brave enough to sing about it, from Blige’s heartbreaking second album My Life to Keyshia’s chart-topping “Let It Go,” over and over. People will go to great lengths to absolve themselves of judgment, whether it’s liking something as harmless as “The Bachelor” or delving into the depths of psychology to determine that breaking someone’s heart was simply an act of radical self-care. SZA has the grit to say that it is shitty, not just feels shitty. She is aware of the frailties of love and understands that it is worth protecting; all it takes is a lot of hard work to get it. Because of this, the record is even more beautiful.
Listen below and have a overwhelming joy.
