With her previous two albums being titled Souled Out and Trip, it’s only right that Jhené Aiko should continue the motif centered around spiritual exploration with her third record, Chilombo, a sprawling twenty-track odyssey into the depths of heartbreak, recovery and, finally, just being comfortable with yourself again a.k.a. “doing you.” Part of that process stemmed from going to Hawaii to create the music and freestyles for the record. It was there that Aiko reacted to the explosive nature of the volcanoes, herself likening them to the ever-present “eruptions” that exist within relationships (yes, a sexual innuendo applies here, to be sure–but so, too, does sheer rage).
To that end, the poem-like “Lotus (intro)” that kicks off the record is a thesis on the peaks and eventual unceasing valley of a romance, with Aiko crooning, “There was a woman born from the Lotus/Her heart was golden, deep as the ocean/And then this one man, he came and broke it/’Til it was open, just like a Lotus/Oh, yes, there were explosions/She found her focus, the beast awoken.” Of course, listeners are wont to assume that the subject of this revelation is Big Sean, making Chilombo (Aiko’s last name, by the way) far more of a swipe at him than Ariana Grande’s infamous “thank u, next” (even if intended to be an “embracement” of love had and lost, we all know Grande was throwing shade at each of her exes except Mac Miller).
And yes, to be sure, “Triggered (freestyle)”–also known as everyone’s theme song–is also about him. The push and pull of the sort of love we’ve all still been conditioned to believe is the only “great” kind. That which fucks us up in the head as much as it did Ophelia. As such, the often conflicting lyrics, “You muhfuckin’ right, I’m bitter/You muhfuckin’ right, I’m triggered/You muhfuckin’ right, I…/Wanna fuck you right now/I just turned the lights out now/And you know when the sun go down/That’s when it would all go down.” In short, it’s the continued recent tradition of women sexualizing men and essentially saying the only thing worth keeping them around for is their dick (and men like, say, Pete Davidson being scandalized by this because the shoe is finally on the other foot with regard to objectification). In the end, however, Aiko decides it’s all emotional triggering without any of the worthwhile sexual triggering, ending with, “I’m triggered, when I see your face/Triggered, when I hear your name/Triggered, I am not okay/You need to stay out my way.”
Naturally, that message goes right out the window when Big Sean is featured on “None of Your Concern” (the video of which is set in Hawaii and is definitely more watchable than Katy Perry’s “Harleys in Hawaii”), another dreamy and serene “meditation” on what went wrong in their three-year long rapport, with both of them weighing in as they fight off their respective jealousies about hearing the rumors of the other being with someone else. Hence Aiko’s lines, “You’ve been hearin’ things and seeing things and so it seems I’m movin’ on my own/The audacity to question me, like you ain’t leave me out here on my own/I was traumatized and suicidal, I’m sick and tired, I am not to blame/Once I felt a way, but not today, I’m not afraid, now I can say.” This much checks out on “Speak,” filled with the influence of the crystal alchemy and sound bowls that Hawaii helped Aiko furnish in spades for her creative process. A jubilant yet carefully controlled anthem about independence, “Speak” (not to be confused with the Lindsay Lohan album and song of the same name) declares, “Woke up this mornin’, heart was beating out my chest/So excited, realizin’ that you aren’t here to judge me/No one to impress I decided that I liked it, yeah.” In that sense, the symbol of putting on a favorite dress of hers that she never used to wear because Big Sean didn’t like it takes on an even stronger meaning of empowerment as she chooses to don whatever the fuck she feels like now that she isn’t a prisoner of his opinion.
This newfound flow of confidence and not giving a damn remains on “B.S.” featuring H.E.R., a track that proudly declares Aiko is back on her bullshit a.k.a. being her most authentic (and assertive) self as she stunts, “Back up on my bullshit/Back up on the scene/Done dealing with you/Don’t know how to deal with me/Done fuckin’ with you, don’t know how to love me.” In many ways, it mimics the motif of Big Sean’s infamous “I Don’t Fuck With You.” Except, in both Aiko and Big Sean’s cases, they just can’t seem to stop fucking with each other, a phenomenon that’s ostensibly present on “P*$$Y Fairy (OTW).” With its tranquil vibe, it doubles as some sort of perverse soundtrack one might hear while they’re being massaged at a spa (not that kind, but a more professional one). Talking about that one redeeming quality of Big Sean’s again that especially weakens her defenses when she’s drunk, Aiko sensually sings, “That dick make my soul smile/That dick make me so damn proud/Now lay your head down on the pillow/Turn the lights down real low.” An image that’s repeated from “Triggered (freestyle)” because, clearly, Aiko needs a mood set for an optimal fucking experience. Either that or at least she can’t see Big Sean in the dark, therefore it’s not like she’s making the same mistake again and again if she can’t actually visualize him.
Paying homage to Andre 3000’s “Where Are My Panties?” from Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, “Happiness Over Everything (H.O.E.)” featuring Future and Miguel highlights this trio of harmonies briefly pretending to be ashamed about giving it up on the first night as they remark, “After all, I just hope you don’t think that I’m some kind of ho/I don’t know, he just makes me feel like he knows what he wants, yeah.” In the end, of course, pleasure–happiness–must triumph over everything, even if that means the collective opinion that one is a ho. Yet this self-assurance appears to go out the window on “One Way St.” featuring Ab-Soul. A song that finds Aiko questioning just about everything, including her life path and mental clarity. Part of that questioning comes from being so derailed from the path she originally thought she was on with this relationship, the one she thought was going to be “it.” The depression of recovering that manifests in, “I wait for love, I waste away/Wasting my days, I waste away I wasted love, I waste away/Wasting my days, I wait.” Waiting for what, exactly? Well, the moment when she can come to peace with it all (as much as possible) and move forward by going slightly backward in order to recalibrate. Something none of us heartbroken lot are strangers to.
With “Define Me” (interlude), Aiko takes it back to the calming nature of that singing bowl/“I’m on a remote Hawaiian island” feel. Echoing the same sentiment as Marina and the Diamonds’ “Can’t Pin Me Down,” Aiko insists she can’t be labeled or defined, as though saying this not just to those who think they know her, but also to herself. And in the same lilt as the one on “Lotus (intro),” she decrees, “Try me/You cannot define me/I can tell you’re trying/First you’ve gotta find me.” Good luck doing so amid the craggy landscape of Hawaii. For escape was the entire point in being able to come up with the material for this record. Indeed, Hawaii’s volcanic landscape had a strong effect on the songbird, who noted, “In a sense, I am like a volcano, and this album is an eruption. It starts with ‘Triggered,’ and there’s a lava flow with all these songs where it’s a free-flowing jam session. And then it settled—and it became this beautiful land where there’s new life.” Even if traces of the old remain just beneath the surface (ask Pompeii). To this point, Aiko can only “Surrender,” her ninth track on the album featuring Dr. Chill. An appropriate person to include on a song whose backbeat sounds like an unreleased instrumental portion of the American Beauty Soundtrack. Surrender not just to the rejuvenation process, but to inevitably being drawn back to her Angeleno roots as she wields the streets and freeways of L.A. as partial metaphors while waxing, “Met you at the edge of my mind/Hanging by a thread in limelight/Just when you had asked for closure/That is when the signs got closer/Exit 405 to Sepulveda/Come to the West side, I will show you love/It is only right if you open up.” Ah, but he won’t. No matter how many singing bowls she uses to try and open up his chakras. And it leads Aiko to make the very valid point: “I’m a boss bitch, how you don’t fuck with me?” Well, the answer is, most men rather despise boss bitches, whether overtly or latently.
In keeping with her undeniable Cali girl groove, “Tryna Smoke” is the chilled back stoner anthem of 2020. Even for those who don’t abide by getting high as a coping mechanism, this song is sure to convince you as Aiko cajoles, “With all of the bullshit confusion on the ground I wish that I was high/’Cause I can’t live my life when it’s loud/So I’m gonna call the bros/Tell ’em, ‘Roll up one, right now’/I’m tryna smoke/I’m so high, I’m so high, I’m so high-ah-ah/That’s just how I get by.” We all have our methods, and this, to be sure, is the most Californian one of all.
Followed up with the somehow fitting “Born Tired” (you know, ‘cause weed makes you sleepy), we’re given a sonic testament to all Aiko has been through in her short thirty-two years (turning said thirty-two on March 16th–‘cause she could be no other sign than a Pisces). Musing on her tiredness and more than occasional questioning of why she keeps persisting, Aiko remarks, “It’s been a long night/Long life, long time fighting/Let out a long sigh/Alright, why am I trying?/’Cause look at how far you have come/And look at all that you have going.” Telling herself to push harder and keep breaking through walls is the positive message so many of us need to hear. Those of us who keep doing the same thing and wondering if maybe it’s insanity rather than just “trying.”
The effusive “LOVE” tops other songs of the same name (except maybe John Lennon’s and Lana Del Rey’s), and finds a rejoicing Aiko acknowledging that despite all the hurdles, she’s “look[ing] down, standing on (her) feet/Over hills and valley peaks/Veering right until (she) meet[s]/Everything (she’s) meant to be.” The message being, naturally, that even though the pain of loss has broken us all from time to time, we would not be who we are today without that pain. And the strength that grew from it.
Even so, the pain still fucking hurts more than “now and again,” as evidenced on “10K Hours” featuring Nas. As their first collaboration together, both of their bruised hearts combine to come to the epiphany, “I know what it’s like to lose, do you? Do you?/Have you ever loved someone, then lost that one?/You can’t even call they phone/You can’t even ask how they day was/Nothing in life’s guaranteed, you’ll see.” Not even that which you were so certain of because a certain significant other promised it would be so. Alas, promises can’t be spelled without “piss”–as in someone is only taking the piss out of you when they make claims like “always” or “forever.” That’s probably when you should run the other way, in fact, instead favoring the lightheartedness of summer flings. That sentiment is briefly covered on “Summer 2020 (interlude)” as Aiko vows to “take it easy, simple, like summertime,” until once more giving in to the agony of loss with the admission, “I’ve been missin’ you for ten thousand hours/I cannot let go/Ten thousand memories/I’ve been missin’ you for ten thousand hours/I cannot let go, I cannot let go.”
This much is clear on the elegy that is “Mourning Doves,” a rueful admission that the relationship has come to an end, with whip-poor-will inspired bird calls punctuating a certain undeniable melancholy as Aiko narrates, “We made mornin’ love/As the mourning doves/Sang a song for us/They were warnin’ us/They were mournin’ our love/It was more than our love/They cried over us/It was over for us.” Prince would surely approve, his own (obviously more bombastic) “When Doves Cry” being lightly alluded to when she mentions “doves cryin’.” And with its ambient and surrendering fade out, we can almost tangibly feel the light dim entirely on this love.
Regardless, Aiko takes an almost European exes approach to how she plans to interact with Big Sean in the wake of their demise, as explored on the very zen “Pray For You.” It is with this track that she has the revelation, “The feeling’s finally mutual/I’m ready to let you know/Don’t wanna see you no more/I’m ready to let this go.” Even so, she wants him to understand that she bears him no ill will in spite of everything, assuring, “But never will I ever not wish you well/Though we’re not together/God bless you still/It’s gonna get better, I know it will/Just hope you know, I still…” Still what? Will always love him on some deep, arcane and irrevocable level? Of course. That much is evident on “Lightning and Thunder” featuring John Legend, a witchy number that demands, “What kind of spell do you have me under?/Oh, what in the hell?/I’m starting to, starting to wonder/I am not well, I’m going under…/It’s just like lightning and thunder.”
Speaking of witchiness, “Magic Hour” seems to speak to the scenery of Hawaii. Of waiting for sunsets while also waiting for some kind of miracle. A miracle of self-healing through self-discovery. The sort that leads Aiko to proffer, “Maybe I’m a miracle waiting for the miracle.” And why not exude that level of near bravado? For a little bit of nerve is all it takes to cross the threshold into a self-possessed ditty like “Party For Me” featuring Ty Dolla $ign. As the final cut on Chilombo, Aiko opts to end things on a vivacious yet more than vaguely macabre note, for she seems to have written a song for her own funeral. Urging, “Party hard, party hard, party hard for me when I’m gone/Party hard, party hard, party hard for me/Party hard for me when I’m gone/Sing along to the songs that I sung to you/Party hard for me when I’m gone/Carry on.” Or maybe, in some respects, she’s singing this to Hawaii itself. The place that begat Chilombo, but that she eventually had to leave in favor of that crooked dick (“Captain Hook” as Megan Thee Stallion would say) that is her native California.
On choosing to name the record in honor of her last real last name, Aiko commented, “‘Chilombo’ is a word that means ‘wild beast’ [one she refers to on “Lotus (intro)”]—they’re strong, confident and graceful. Beasts are also beautiful.” Just don’t fucking upset one or you’ll pay the price in Blood (double meaning intended, for those who know their quintessential L.A. gangs). If Chilombo has taught us anything through the veneer of its hippie-dippy singing bowls and crystals, it’s that.
