
“That is my biggest fear. That if I lost control, or did not have control, things would just, you know…I would be…fatal.”
The opening words on SZA’s long awaited debut are not her own, but rather those of her mother. Control, as a power dynamic and and weapon has been an obstacle for women throughout history. It’s the source of contention and resistance, rarely equalized and often abused. For Solána Imani Rowe, the woman behind the artist, it provides source material for CTRL, an album that details the ways young adults, more specifically women, must find their own source of control.
Throughout CTRL, SZA examines the power dynamics that seek to strip women of their self-worth. She spends much of this time dismantling her own past oppressors, be it the boyfriend who left her on Valentine’s Day, the man who won’t see her as anything more than a nightcap, the man in a relationship who shares her bed every weekend. These sources of control are precepts that she rejects through her own autonomy even if it sheds light on her own vulnerabilities. “Wish I was comfortable just with myself,” she begins before confessing “…but I need you.” Elsewhere, she mourns the lack of men willing to put in the work for intimacy while also celebrating the strength women have when men act on their physical desires.
Even with this confidence, SZA is haunted by her own limits, most notably those that come with navigating one’s 20’s. As a young woman she can foresee a stronger version of herself yet still remains bound to the remnants of youthful naivety and insecurity. This comes to a head on “Prom”, a percussive pop number where the singer is overcome by her own fleeting satisfaction in the face of the future. How is it that we are meant to grow into something when we have no idea what it is? So instead, she hurtles herself into her work in hopes that it will provide the independence that alludes her. This isn’t without its trap doors, as she finds on “Garden (Say It Like Dat)”. Wealth can provide armor but it also leads to dehumanization by press and media.
What SZA finds is that control is rooted in perception. Perception of oneself can empower an individual to overcome suppressors, as it denotes greater strength in our own perspective than that of others. This manifests in lead single “Drew Barrymore”, featuring a soaring chorus and the realization that her lover’s hold over her is due to her own loneliness. This reclaiming of power occurs once more on “Normal Girl”, beginning as a plea for a man to see her as a respectable girl he can introduce to his mother, only for her to denounce this on the song’s bridge and identify herself as her own ideal while leaving behind the man who couldn’t see the same.
CTRL ends with the plaintive “20 Something”, a reflection on the childhood self we have to abandon in order to move forward. There is a universal contradiction to its sentiment, manifesting in the desire to be rid of the uncertainty of the future without losing the comfort of the past. The song ends in hope, as the chorus morphs into “God bless these 20 somethings”. SZA understands that as frustrating and self-destructive as the last glimpses of youth may be, they are necessary and not without happiness. To simply endure is to stagnate; instead, we can learn to respect ourselves and decide for ourselves that we are worthy. If we wait around for someone else to tell us, we will only believe it as long as they are around to say it. Control comes when we find our own way to claim it.