SCORE: 7/10
In 2021, Genesis Owusu's debut album, Smiling With No Teeth (SWNT) hit the alternative music world like a funky-punk-asteroid. The project arrived with the polish and creative confidence not usually befitting a debut release, and within weeks, Owusu was being lauded as one of the most singular and exciting voices in music today. By the end of 2021, SWNT was topping "Best Of" lists and sneaking to the top of Discovery Weekly's, and fans of Owusu and his unique brand of indie-weirdness simply couldn't wait to hear what the Ghanian-born, Australian-based musician had in store.
Two years later, Owusu has finally delivered his sophomore LP, STRUGGLER. For everyone who fell in love with SWNT, this album very much feels like a spiritual and sonic successor to that record, and that also happens to be one of its greatest flaws. In short: Owusu's latest just isn't as good as his debut. While comparisons to previous work are not really a fair metric of criticism, this new album backs itself into a corner by rehashing a lot of the sounds and styles of SWNT. However, there's still plenty to love about STRUGGLER, and regardless of whether or not it lives up to the shadow cast by its predecessor, it's still another offering from one of the most striking voices in alternative music at the moment, and that alone is worthy of celebration.
While it may have been sonically frenetic, SWNT did have a sharp conceptual focus. The majority of the album’s lyrical content discussed the idea of “two black dogs,” symbolic representations of depression and racism that Owusu used to convey his own individual experiences. On STRUGGLER, Owusu once again leans into animal metaphors, this time casting himself — as well as the entire human race — as a cockroach. Additionally, this album is heavily concerned with religious imagery and subject matter, and often draws inspiration from the nihilistic viewpoint of insects looking up at an unknowable god.
In a statement posted to his Instagram, Owusu spoke on the album, writing, “… the album is really a celebration of how we, as humans, manage to keep going through all of the shit that should have logically destroyed us a long time ago.” This mission statement is quite apparent throughout the record; STRUGGLER is not quite as personal as SWNT, but it’s still stamped with Owusu’s signature brand of head-bopping anguish. The stories here aren’t necessarily glimpses into the artist’s life, but more conceptual windows through which to view the entirety of our existence, and to interpret as you personally see fit. That being said, STRUGGLER isn’t some philosophical manifesto. The album is a rip-roaring good time, and while the lyrics may allude to existential subject matter, they’re also deceptively simple and just as enjoyable from a purely cursory perspective.
"Leaving the Light" opens the album with a pulsing synth line that sounds like the soundtrack to a Mario Kart race through hell. Owusu's presence on the track is as dynamic as ever, and his wails and yelps dance through the walls of instrumentation with an impish delight while still carrying an air of emotional gravitas. Lyrically, the song paints a picture of dystopian proportions; an anguished insect's breakneck escape from a cruel god through an inhospitable landscape. The mood is certainly ominous, but the song also bursts with the colorful creativity that makes Owusu such a captivating artist. Perhaps in spite of all its darkness, the track is a just plain fun, and perfectly showcases the bewildering dichotomies STRUGGLER has to offer.
"The Roach" diverts the album into a decidedly more post-punk direction, with guitar-work that would sound right at home on Joy Division's Closer. The atmosphere is simply top-notch on this song, and the thumping percussion maintains a steady rhythm that makes for an experience that's as energetic as it is moody. This is the album's first direct allusion to the concept of the "roach," and Owusu's writing casts a wide net of dismal imagery and real-world injustices. "Always watched but never seen/Said my skin was never clean/Tried to turpentine me/Only fit for the fiends." It's an absolute highlight in the track-list, and proves that even if Owusu may not have perfectly recaptured the magic of his past music, he certainly hasn't lost his touch.
The throwback-angst continues on "The Old Man," where Owusu's bellowed chorus stands out for being one of the album's most infectious. "There's an ollllllld man/Waiting in the sky, just to fuck my life up!" Despite being one of the shortest songs on the album, it packs a complete punch and has been one of my favorites to go back to. "Freak Boy" is another bite-sized banger, grounded by hard-hitting drumwork and super catchy melodies. Like the best parts of this album, it's unabashedly moody, but maintains a tongue-in-cheek irony that elevates it from ever feeling self-indulgent or cheesy.
Just like SWNT, some of the highlights of this album are the tracks that stray away from the chaotic genre-bending and slow things down a little bit. "See Ya There" (my personal favorite), is a gentle ballad that treads closer to R&B than anything else on the album. It's a song that conjures up images of dead-man-floating down the laziest river, and while the banks might be cluttered with worries and woes, the water's never felt better. "That's Life (A Swamp)" is another slow-jam, but isn't quite able to match "See Ya There"'s intrigue and beauty. It's a charming attempt at jazz-fusion instrumentation, but ends up being one of the album's most long-winded and forgettable stretches. This is then followed up by "Balthazar," the least engaging song on the record, which never quite manages to make much out of its stripped-back aesthetic.
Not to worry, though: the last leg of the track-list kicks back to life with the raucous tenacity of "Stay Blessed." It's a total head-banger, backed by humming punk guitars and a howled vocal performance from Owusu. The energy continues on "What Comes Will Come," an earnest slow-build that results in one of the album's strongest emotional catharses. The production transitions from silly synth sounds and keyboard drum pads into a vast soundscape of DnB percussion and wailing melodies, where Owusu's vocals gently float over the fog with an earnest and gorgeously vulnerable delivery. "I've suffered at my least, what comes will come to me," is by no means a hopeful sentiment, but it still speaks to the promise of growth, and the nihilistic acceptance of struggle as a glorious means of existence.
STRUGGLER is really not the product of a healthy mind-state. It's a tortured and emotionally exhausted trek through self-hatred, depression, and existential dread. It's also a hell of a lot of fun. Once again, Owusu's style confounds all bounds of distinction and genre, and while it's never quite as exciting as his debut, it's still a quality record that's more than worthy of your time and discussion. Knowing that STRUGGLER resulted from Owusu's own grief and suffering is tragic to hear, but seeing how he was able to translate that strife into something so bold is a testament to his incredible talent and one-of-a-kind vision. He may not have crafted a masterpiece, but I still can't wait to hear what Owusu will cook up in the future, and if he isn't already on your radar, make sure to tap in with his music as soon as you possibly can.
Favorite Tracks: The Roach, The Old Man, See Ya There, What Comes Will Come
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