When Ctrl dropped in 2017, I was 19—but I didn’t find it until years later, stuck in a genre rut. It came at the perfect time. I was in my twenties, learning to enjoy my own company and redefine my self-worth outside of relationships. It turned out I wasn’t alone in those feelings. I was just a few years behind SZA.

Themes of romance, betrayal, and revenge ripple through the album, all tangled with the search for identity and self-worth. SZA’s voice flicks like a switch—from honey-sweet in “Doves in the Wind” (ft. Kendrick Lamar) to defiant and raw in “Love Galore” (ft. Travis Scott): “Why you bother me when you say you don’t want me?” Synth pads, drum machines, and click-and-clap tracks lay the foundation, while acoustic guitar softens tracks like “20 Something.” Across the album, you can hear influences from every corner—bouncy indie bass in “Prom,” neo-soul keys in “The Weekend,” which topped the UK charts in 2018.

There are three male features, and they improve as the album progresses. Travis Scott’s verse in “Love Galore” responds to SZA’s callout—“Last time I checked you were the one that left me in a wreck”—with his signature auto-tuned tone and on-brand adlibs. But while the hip-hop flavour is strong, his contribution feels underwhelming, clashing with the track’s lo-fi, atmospheric close.

“Doves in the Wind” uses a warm, crackling texture like an old record and flips biblical dove imagery on its head. Lamar’s verse references his own “These Walls,” using “walls” to refer to a vagina, while Redman’s 2001 sample—“Attention, all you n*****, all you bitches”—snaps you to attention. The message is loud and clear: women are more than what’s between their legs. It’s lewd, sure, and “pussy” gets repeated endlessly—but somehow, it still feels grounded, even reverent. A love sermon, not a throwaway.

Isaiah Rashad’s feature later in the album is undoubtedly the strongest. His verse, gentle and layered with jazz-scatting echoes, delivers quiet resilience: “My wings don’t spread like they used to / but I wanna fly with you.”

Empowerment and vulnerability blur on tracks eight and nine. “Garden (Say It Like Dat)” hides insecurity beneath warm R&B harmonies, as SZA questions whether her partner will accept the real her. Even her appearance becomes a sore spot: “You know I’m sensitive about having no booty, having no body.” But by “Broken Clocks,” she’s in motion, hustling: “Gotta shift at 10 a.m., gotta dip at 10 p.m.” Dreamy vocal rounds lead into the interlude “Wavy,” a hazy ode to smoking and emotional floatation.

The final track, “20 Something,” closes the album on a quietly devastating note. Adulthood isn’t what we imagined as kids—it brings adult problems. “Took us so long to separate, I feel it’s permanent like a riptide,” she sings, caught between who she was and who she’s becoming.

The EP ends as it began, with a quote from SZA’s mother: “So that’s what I know about control—and I’m sticking to it!” It brings the record full circle, a tender nod to the women who raised her—their voices the first and last we hear. Ctrl is raw, reflective, and unflinching. SZA lays bare not only the wrongs others have done to her, but also the ones she’s committed. It captures the growing pains of becoming a fully formed person. We all hope we’ll grow stronger, wiser, more grounded. “Promise to get a little better as I get older.” With Ctrl, SZA pushed R&B into the future, fusing it with jazz, indie pop, rap, and lo-fi textures—a smorgasbord for the ears, and a diary for the soul.