Watch out music world, here comes "Zora," an album released on September 20, 2023, by up-and-coming artist Zora Smith. By "up-and-coming," of course, I mean championed by your average café hipster who thinks coffee isn’t drinkable without almond milk. Recorded in the somewhat predictable locations of Portland, Oregon, and Brooklyn, New York, the album reaches for something big but ends up bumping into its own confused identity. You'd think an album with such buzz would have more substance than trendy sound-bytes and politically-correct-inspired beats.
Zora Smith, hailing from the streets where plaid shirts are worn unironically, is gaining traction among those who lament the days when music was too structured and melody-based. In a desperate attempt to leap away from traditional norms, Zora offers a politically-fueled playlist, each song carrying the subtlety of a bullhorn at a meditation retreat. Herds of fans are drawn in by its promise of edgy tunes, only to discover a warbled landscape of lyrics that sound like they were focus-grouped by sociology majors.
Listeners are told this is the "future" of music, and they apparently love it because the album advocates for themes like "freedom," "expression," and a not-so-hidden disdain for anything remotely resembling classical music values. Where music once soared on the wings of harmony and rhythm, "Zora" trades those in for monotonous messages with beats you can’t quite dance to – unless flailing counts.
Fans are claiming this album speaks to the heart of what modern music "should" be. But here's the million-dollar question: why does breaking away from structure equate to producing discordant noise? Dissonance is celebrated over melody, chaos over cohesion. It’s as if taking art classes taught by nature itself has become an act of rebellion against artistry.
The influences claim to range from pop classics to alternative rock, yet in reality, "Zora" sounds like the unfortunate outcome of a 90s boy band deciding to dabble in electronic blues with a marimba. Yes, there are moments of innovation but mostly it feels like a confused playlist struggling to find its own relevance amidst its call-for-attention verses.
Some claim Zora Smith is reflective of today’s "authentic self-expression," suggesting that perhaps most mainstream artists have been plugging into a different outlet. But does so-called authenticity mean throwing every musical rule out the window and laughing as they smash to the ground? The once clear-cut narratives of traditional pop music are exchanged for postmodern essays in sound that would leave even the most committed art critics scratching their heads.
It goes without saying that there's always room for new voices in the music industry. Diversity of sound is the engine that drives innovation – but does innovation mean alienating half your audience in an attempt to come across as revolutionary? Setting out to alienate is a peculiar way to gather fans. Is the intention to challenge, or simply to baffle?
The production quality certainly hits the mark, polished with a sheen that caters to earbuds tuned for digital clarity. Yet, the polished exterior hides a complex world of contradictions within the lyrics, many which seem to muddle basic logic. It's like navigating a maze that, just when you think you see an exit, returns you back to confusion. Zora beckons listeners to "redefine" music while simultaneously sticking its tongue out at foundational musical principles.
Perhaps what's most confounding about "Zora" is the way it captures a generation ready to "disrupt" everything critics love about music but at what cost? When did tearing down the beautifully artistic for fragmented experiments that mostly echo lectures become the goal?
"Zora" critics would say this album challenges us to think and feel, but often it comes off as a forced reminder of the current zeitgeist, wrapped in a rebellious package. Are fans truly finding wisdom in the chaos, or just echoing the sentiments of sociopolitical trends disguised as revolutionary art? The album, like a lot of modern art, may say a lot while ultimately saying nothing new.
It begs the narrative question: who determines the future of music? Perhaps, instead of glorifying chaos, there should be a return to what it's really meant to do – speak to the human soul, elevate emotions, and yes, even provide melodic escape instead of cacophonic lectures.