Album Review: Rina Sawayama’s Debut Studio Album Defies Pop Constraints
Rina Sawayama chronicles her past and present to create a pop record that finds its strengths from multiple genres and experiences.
Written by Sandeep Bhakta
Photo courtesy of Hendrik Schneider
In her 2017 EP RINA, Rina Sawayama introduced herself with tracks coated in sugar-sweet vocals and cybernetic production. The EP focused on themes of loneliness and obsession in the digital age, while delivering ballads that oozed with millennial pop melodies. And while RINA does delve into Sawayama’s personal fascination about the darkness of internet culture, it uses more universal themes than can be widely applicable to her audience. With the 2020 release of SAWAYAMA, the Japanese-British singer completes her name and fittingly gets more personal by zeroing in on what defines her sense of self.I n doing so, she creates an album that features a mix of elements taken from various genres, emotions, and memories. While Sawayama’s work is sonically eclectic, she integrates her sounds to fit the moods and messages of each track.
SAWAYAMA rejects any notion of stagnation by seamlessly weaving together nu-metal, electro-synth, alternative pop, rock, and contemporary R&B. The result is a veritable tapestry of sounds; there’s the headbanging demands of the metal-inspired “STFU!,” the bubbling confidence behind the dance club beats of “Comme Des Garçons (Like The Boys),” and Sawayama’s quiet resignation in the interlude “F--k This World.” While some may argue that Sawayama’s use of multiple genres indicates a lack of direction or cohesion, the Cambridge-educated singer crafts these sounds into a deeply biographical soundtrack. The album draws power from the manipulation and inclusion of genres nostalgic of the late ‘90s and early ‘00s — and by extension, Sawayama’s youth. She uses the music and sounds of her past and connects them with events that occurred during her formative years. But while she pays homage to the music that helped shape her, she does so without delving into simplified imitation.
Sawayama’s vocal work in “Dynasty” is reminiscent of Evanescence frontwoman Amy Lee, and the infectiously catchy instrumentation of “XS” evokes early Britney Spears. Both tracks radiate with energy in their own right but tackle widely different subject matter. In “Dynasty,” Sawayama delves into themes of family and the splintering effects of cyclical trauma. She details an inheritance that goes beyond name as she sings, “I’m a dynasty / The pain in my vein is hereditary.” Alternatively, “XS” is a glamorous pop metal hybridization that centers on the unquenchable desire for the opulence one feels when living in a material world. When singing “Cartier set, Tesla Xs / Calabasas, I deserve it,” Sawayama offers a critique on modern capitalist consumption, and she does so with flecks of metal and acoustic guitars. Both these tracks begin SAWAYAMA with roaring energy and showcase the singer’s ability to twist genres into each other for something singular.
Another shining facet of the album lies in Sawayama’s ability to draw out introspective angst. While back-to-back tracks “Akasaka Sad” and “Paradisin” demonstrate yet another sonic and thematic juxtaposition, they share a high level of analysis of Sawayama’s sense of self. In “Akasaka Sad,” Sawayama explicitly mentions the difficulties associated with a geographical and internal rift in her Japanese and English identities. Her vocal delivery is both dramatic and drawn out while the electro-pop beats rattle the listener’s ears. “Paradisin’,” in contrast, is an escapist anthem. An arcade-like melody and saxophone notes accentuate the glitzy, bubblegum pop of the track as Sawayama sings of youthful rebellion. While it fails to cut as deep as the prior track, both illustrate the artist’s desire to look back on her past pain and experiences in order to create something new.
Despite speaking intensely on soul-consuming concepts like intergenerational pain, identity displacement, and overindulgence, Sawayama also makes room for a softer sadness. In her track “Bad Friend,” she considers the falling out with a former best friend. Compared to more explosive tracks, “Bad Friend” is a stripped-down pop ballad tinged with guilt. The chorus consists of Sawayama singing, “I’m so good at crashing in / Making sparks and shit, but then / I’m a bad, I’m a bad, I’m a bad friend.” The track’s production is subdued, using a vocalizer that layers Sawayama’s voice that emphasizes her perceived guilt like an echoing conscience. The track represents a departure from her consistent grandeur, but it provides a more subtle look into both Sawayama’s past and her relationships.
Photo courtesy of Dirty Hit
Sawayama chooses her most personal song yet to finish her project with. Concluding with her mother’s barely audible words in the outro, “Snakeskin” is a track of vulnerable intimacy. It begins with Sawayama’s elegiac vocals and a piano backdrop. As she sings, “Looking for forgiveness / I ran into your madness,” she conveys a sense of meekness and powerlessness before foregoing it completely.
After this initial phase is overcome, however, the song takes on its true form — one of uninhibited power. As she appropriately and rapidly sings, “I’m shedding, I’m shedding, I’m shedding, I’m shedding my snakeskin,” Sawayama shows she’s ready to forgo a skin that was solely meant for consumption. The backing piano is lost in the surge of energy and is replaced by a tolling bell accompanied by distorted beats that sound like a computer dying in agony. Sawayama enters a stage in life where she no longer feels the need to hide. Rather, she’s committed to existing both unapologetically and at center-stage. Abruptly ending the song with a return to the piano, Sawayama stands resolute with her successful change in form. This track illustrates a culmination of her past self undergoing a dramatic transition, and by finishing the album with it, Sawayama is able to communicate that the change is here to stay.
Although SAWAYAMA represents a conglomerate of sounds and themes, Sawayama finds a balance. She expertly crafts tracks that are foundationally rooted in pop but augmented by a myriad of other genres, and deciphers her memories and past relationships in her lyrics. Despite keeping in line with the traditional idea of a debut album that samples styles, Rina Sawayama reconstructs conventional notions of generic pop. By chronicling her past in sound, she explores themes and circumstances that are both universal and niche. Collectively, SAWAYAMA is not only an extension of the singer herself, but a representation for those of us wishing to create the soundtrack of our lives.