Joy Oladokun’s newest release, Hope Is a Heavy Thing, is one of those rare albums that, from its first moments, makes you realize you’ve found something acutely special. The only thing that diminishes the elation of guzzling the tracks one by one is the sorrow of knowing you will never again experience them in that pure, virginal bliss of the initial listen.
In this album, Oladokun confronts the conundrum many artists skirt around: the impossibility of progress without first addressing the failings of one’s environment and, inevitably, oneself. The singer is working through some heavy things, but she presents them in a way that resonates deeply with the listener rather than weighing them down. Having any hope for the future mandates this type of raw-edged reflection, manually smoothing the sharpness of life’s hardships until they become something universal and surmountable.
The overall subject matter of Hope Is a Heavy Thing is undeniably dark. Oladokun wastes no time rattling off terrible circumstances, exploring violence, politics, sobriety, and everything in between. For instance, “TOGIAM”, an acronym for The Only God in America Is Money, calls back to Joni Mitchell‘s 1970 generation-defining hit “Woodstock” with an update on the current state of capitalism and materialism: “Woodstock was just a fever dream / The garden’s gone / They sold it off for shares of Pepsi Cola and hydrogen bombs.”
The woeful state of America makes another not-so-thinly veiled appearance in “The End of the World” as Joy Oladokun laments, “The promises made are just rooted in lies / And the consequence of everything learned is the end of the world.” The song’s upbeat tempo can’t disguise the unbearable anxiety, peppered with rage and disgust.
Rather than casting blame on a world engulfed in flames, Oladokun adeptly turns the microscope inward. This comes across most vividly in “Zombie”, which masterfully verbalizes the sensation of being a spectator to the exuberant outside world. On the surface, she’s marveling at her peers’ ability to find cause for celebration amid the wreckage, but this recurring theme of desolation extends beyond the current global climate. Oladokun’s lyrics also speak to isolation and indifference that can show up even in the best circumstances.
The sense of otherness, of not having the mental bandwidth to enjoy that which everybody else seemingly can, attests to the deeper underlying battles within Hope Is a Heavy Thing. Oladokun hints at as much with the line “The weight of the times just keeps on holding me back.” The heaviness is in the understanding that baggage does not preclude hope; it merely increases the work required to attain it.
Through this album, Oladokun sheds that weight one piece at a time, turning personal setbacks into a creative fuse. Immediately following “Zombie” arrives “Toothache”, and with it the message that wallowing in misery will only compound it. The real work—and power—is in the internal choice to release pain that becomes an impediment to progress.
Joy Oladokun’s music is distinctly timeless in a way that, rather than offering a specific fix, places its faith in humanity itself. Her voice is shimmery and soft, delivered with the warm touch of a trusted friend. As the songs bounce between gospel, pop, and folk influences, they become swirled into one heavenly syrup that feels at once innovative and deeply, comfortably familiar.
Hope Is a Heavy Thing is a palate cleanser in the modern music landscape. It’s hefty emotions delivered on a fluffy cloud, a reminder that a vast, colorful world exists between happy and sad. On top of that, it’s also exceptionally enjoyable to listen to.