Samia

Bovine excision, a mysterious phenomenon involving the bloodless surgical removal of cattle organs, serves as the eerie inspiration for the opening track of Samia's third album, aptly titled Bloodless. Her voice flows through the evocative lyrics with ease, weaving through the gentle strum of a lone acoustic guitar. The quiet intimacy builds into a storm of sound, culminating in Samia's layered, ethereal harmonies that pierce with a haunting, macabre refrain: "And drained, drained bloodless."

These emptied cattle evoke a grotesque vessel she unwittingly nurtured in an attempt to embody something both untouchable and on display, overflowing with infinite projections and capable of driving an unrelenting pursuit of the unattainable. Through sharp images—Diet Dr. Pepper and Raymond Carver as parallel pursuits of minimalism, white underwear, and leeches, a Degas dancer poised at the bannister—Samia examines a paradoxical existence where merit transforms into a calculated act of extraction ("I felt the pea, can I eat it?"). This is just one strand Samia weaves into the intricate tapestry of Bloodless.

Rich with layers that shift seamlessly from sparse folk to sweeping indie-pop epics, Bloodless explores Samia's relationship with a fragmented, symbolic version of Men—a patchwork of expectations and imagined standards she tried to meet, which ultimately shaped her sense of self. “I’ve spent the past two decades unintentionally conflating men with my understanding of God,” Samia explains. “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.”

Written & produced in both North Carolina and her new home of Minneapolis throughout 2024, Bloodless finds Samia reuniting with longtime collaborator Caleb Wright and Jake Luppen for the highly-anticipated follow-up to 2023's revered Honey, which followed Samia's 2020's breakthrough debut The Baby. Across these thirteen songs, Samia grapples with the hollow form she once embodied — a vessel that gained value through its own absence, until playing dead became its own form of life. With Bloodless, she endeavors to disinter the self buried beneath these carefully constructed personas, ultimately reaching a place of acceptance for her whole, imperfect being.