Album Review: Samia - 'Bloodless'
Complex, richly layered and with visceral detail, Samia’s ‘Bloodless’ seeks to differentiate between the girl she used to be and the woman she wants to become.
Self-sacrifice in the pursuit of finding who you really are. That is the recurring motif that has built the foundations for ‘Bloodless’, Samia’s third album. Through the metaphor of bovine excision, the mutilation of cows that often includes the draining of their blood and removal of body parts, Samia tries to put together the fragments that form her current sense of self. It is undeniable that ‘Bloodless’ comes when it is needed most. Socio-political discourse that is hellbent on deciding who is and isn’t a woman is more rampant than ever and through an auto-autopsy of sorts, Samia is reflecting, unpacking and evaluating what it means to her to be a woman today. Exploring themes of femininity, virginal purity and violence, she seeks to understand and untangle the threads that have created the tapestry of her art.
“I’ve spent the past two decades unintentionally conflating men with my understanding of God … the person I became in order to impress this imagined figure is inseparable from who I am today. With this album, I’ve tried to confront that head-on.”
By looking at her relationship towards men and the fragmented symbols they evoke, she is able to begin to redefine a sense of self that previously was informed by the expectations and imagined standards she had been trying to meet. Furthermore, she is able to articulate how as a woman seeking to conform to society's expectations, she embodied something that was untouchable, distant and laid bare for display. The album therefore is a kind of exorcism through which she can separate the version of herself that those around her (namely men) had created and the version she wants to be. It is only through the symbolic draining of blood, the violent removal of that which had previously given her life, success, validation and worth, that she can give meaning to herself; that she can choose herself.
The album is wonderfully bookended by the Biscuit Intro and Outro, the latter making up the second half of closing track ‘Pants’. The intro is a soundscape of country living - soft footsteps on grass, crickets chirping and soft guitar chords - but is cut off by static before it's been given the chance to really take form. This could be a representation of a lot of things but to me reads as the inner conflict Samia has been trying to reconcile. It shows a glimpse of where she wants to be; a window into the idyllic life she could and more importantly should be living. The warmth and nostalgia of the clip gives the listener insight into the end goal and legitimises the violence and self mutilation that will feature so heavily as the album progresses. We understand and can relate to her decision to confront her issues head on because we recognise what it's all for.
Given the rural and agrarian themes, it makes sense that a lot of the album features instrumentation and techniques you would expect to find on a country record. ‘Fair Game’ in particular really evokes the sounds of an Americana countryside with its sweet harmonies, stunningly simplistic guitar progressions and Samia’s vocal tone that is sprinkled with just a hint of twang - especially on the chorus line ‘you won’t get your blood back’. Whilst her songwriting has always been characterised by an acoustic guitar and searing vocals, it is interesting to consider this tonal shift in reaction to her recent decision to move away from the cities of her childhood, LA and New York. Her songwriting has evolved to match her search for an easier way of life, moving closer towards the sounds we heard in the intro. She doesn’t feel the need to force things, instead letting the stripped back instrumentation speak for itself. With this in mind, ‘Proof’ becomes the most vulnerable track on the album. Whilst it is only made up of guitar and vox, it is the most fleshed out version of the ‘new’ and true Samia we see and gives her the space to show the world who she has been all along: ‘And when you weren’t there I made out of thin air what would bear resemblance to proof that you don’t know me bitch/You don’t know me bitch’.
The image of blood appears over and over, ironic considering the title of the album. It features in almost every song, either as a direct lyric or an allusion through a more broad theme. Samia demonstrates her awareness and is offering commentary on the deeply ingrained ‘link’ between blood and womanhood: its symbolism of menstruation, reproduction and the cycle of life and death. For Samia, the image of blood has many meanings. It forms and acts as a symbol for her connections with friends, ‘I made a blood pact here with Gigi/Woke up the next on the edge of the sea’ ; is evidence of strength and the violence it can cause ‘With the strength of your new core, you glide headlessly/Wiping blood with your upper hand, making a wall of me’; and is an indication of having felt love ‘To be loved like a child’s toy or cigarette is to die a funny feeling in a chest/The girls bleed and drape over the recliner’. By becoming ‘bloodless’, Samia can see the weight and significance it had in the first place. It is through its removal that she understands the space it leaves behind.
In all honesty, the album brings more questions than answers. Over the course of the 13 tracks, Samia never truly gets the clarity and assurance she is looking for. Between the questions she asks herself and those that are aimed at the people around her, she doesn’t really get to a point of resolution.
‘I felt the pea, can I eat it?’ / ‘We met last year, remember?’ / ‘Will you hold the onus?’ / ‘Do you wanna see the heavenly creature?’ / ‘What am I supposed to do?’ / ‘When you see yourself in someone, how can you look at them?’ / ‘Can I let the light in?’ / ‘And how long has it been here?’ / ‘And how long have I been here?’
While the conflict at the centre of the album, the battle between the identity she was given by others and the one she has chosen herself, isn’t truly reconciled, a sense of catharsis still emerges. The nature of her questioning and the way it evolves over the album is a reflection of the feeling of enlightenment she has gained through this journey. She has gotten to the point where she realises that she is the one that has to change; getting back to the place established in ‘Biscuit’s intro’ is a decision she has to make for herself. By the last series of questions when she says ‘How long have I been here?’ perhaps what she really means is ‘How long have I been letting other people make me feel this way?’. It is through this interrogation and spiritual cleansing that she finally sees the need for her to choose herself. It’s heavy and difficult to stomach but the ‘answer’ has been there all along. In order to find who you really are, self-sacrifice is necessary. It's clear from the way this and the metaphor of bovine excision have developed that these concepts continue to evolve; that life is a painful work in progress.
Words by Kirsty-Ann Thomson
