The monster is no longer a man, it is her.
Written by PAL
Against the funked up, atmospheric beats of London’s Tesfa Williams, Sio tells stories of pain and power. She uses poetry to build a world led by the so-called ‘unlikeable female protagonist’, someone we are introduced to as a villain in the project’s opening track, Villain. She is blunt, direct and “frankly fed up”, and as SIGMA unfolds, we find out why.
“You’ll be cursing me the villain, but didn’t you know? Villain is my favorite role”. With this, Sio introduces us to a woman scorned; the following tracks feel like a stream of reflections, the kind of things women might think, but are conditioned to never speak. Sio speaks.
As the title suggests, Bed License tells tales of the sexualised woman, one shamed for not being “good enough in bed”, and one who in turn experiences a sexual shame that leaves her mourning, every morning. “There were many mournings, when I couldn’t speak”, she has woken up stripped of her voice, and her power. In Continents, a different kind of powerlessness is introduced. Here, she has traveled across continents to see a lover who refuses to let her through the door. She begs. The song offers no resolve.
At this point, our protagonist has been silenced and shamed, but in Fortnite; she begins to take her power back. Sio reflects on her life as a brown girl, likening it to a game and committing to breaking the pattern. “This brown skinned, ghetto born girl is gonna make her own way”, and so, she does. The comic relief of I Throw Hands is perfectly placed. Referencing Tobe Nigwe’s viral song ‘Try Jesus’ — Sio, in her ethereal soft tones, threatens to throw hands to anyone that tries her. A stark contrast to the yearning woman we met on Continents. A refreshing and exciting development.
At the album’s midpoint, we encounter my favorite track Medusa. She still speaks to cruelty at the hands of men and mothers, but something feels different, now there is rage. “I’ve been violated like Medusa, went to Hades, came back now I’ll reduce ya”. Our protagonist addresses us, breaking the fourth wall and calling our understanding of self into question. “Take your last name from your father, then exchange it for another… woman, when have you ever been yours?”. Tesfa’s beat is equally confronting, it is sinister, villainous and filled with tension. So, as the song closes and her repetition of “you should be scared, you should be terrified” comes to the fore – this chorus begins to feel like a warning, except the monster is no longer a man, it is her. Medusa.
Outside feels like a classic house track, with a catchy chorus and minimal lyrics outside of that, and so it is no surprise that it has the most streams on the project. On this track, our protagonist seems to have returned to a toxic dynamic, once again she begs a man to let her in. “I’m on the outside let me in”, this time there is a shamelessness to her actions. The cycle has repeated itself, and the following track aptly titled Patterns, perfectly explores this relationship between bad habits, repetition, and their consequences.
As SIGMA comes to a close, it is apparent that a tumultuous story of healing is being told. Peign Killer really drives this idea home as Sio sings of being someone’s hospital and painkiller. She is someone’s drug, all while she herself needs the healing. Her resolution? “I’m no longer gonna be your dealer”. Her healing process is continually marked by the difficult acts of self love that she must practice, as West details, “I had to build a spine when he left”. Our protagonist is broken, but she must find means to liberate herself.
The ultimate healing is found in SIGMA’s last track, where Sio takes us back to the poetic delivery of the first track. “I’m so used to being heartbroken, I forgot how to cry” Broken Crayons is devastatingly raw, she has been hardened and numbed by the trauma she has so freely spoken of throughout this project.
“Then came a sculptor blessing me with words
Tapping into my emotional reserve
And I felt my pain slip silently from my eyes
As the reservoir came asunder
Coz she told me ‘Broken crayons still colour’”
She longs to escape, and just as you think there is no hope left, she remembers how to cry. Sio is magnetic, ethereal and unrelenting in her pursuit of expression, and healing. She ebbs and flows between victim, villain, and survivor — and against cinematic house beats she reclaims herself, one mournful tale at a time.