Jhené Aiko Takes Us on a ‘Trip’

Three years have passed since the release of Jhené Aiko’s debut album “Souled Out,” and fans of the songstress’s classic, sensual vocals will be pleased to find that surprise album “Trip” is well worth the wait. Like its predecessor, “Trip” is the consequence of a total emotional experience in which Aiko encounters darkness, falls victim to it, and eventually finds the strength within herself to begin the process—and a lengthy one, at that—of introspection and healing. Though it comes in at a whopping 22 tracks, nothing about Aiko’s sophomore album feels superfluous. Each song is undeniably an essential part of the trip, and Aiko—a master storyteller—refuses to spare her listeners any of the raw details of her long, drug-fueled journey to self-realization.

Aiko’s ascent into psychedelia commences in “LSD” when she takes “a tiny piece of paper and puts it under [her] tongue,” effectively launching her into an exploration of herself in relation to the unknown. Immediately, the rhythm slows to a dreamy throb, and “Jukai” begins, with Aiko questioning her worldly significance. “If I died,” she wonders, “would it even make a sound in the sea of trees?”

Yet the possibility of death does not seem to frighten Aiko, who instead uses the prospect of her eventual demise to justify her daring behavior in “When We’re Young”: “Baby, while we’re young we should just have fun / Like say f**k everyone.” She recognizes the ephemerality of her life, and in a typically Aiko-esque fashion, explores this impermanence through seductively smooth vocals that ultimately continue to flow into “Moments,” an amorous song about appreciating our time with loved ones, complete with a guest appearance by her beau, Big Sean.

The idea of the brevity of life is an essential, ever-present theme throughout the album, and perhaps comes to a blissful apogee in “OLLA (Only Lovers Left Alive),” another collaboration with Big Sean, in which Aiko and her lover—despite the “fireballs falling out of the sky”—continue to cherish each other’s presences. This post-apocalyptic jam is intoxicating and highly danceable, but Aiko and Big Sean are too caught up in their infatuation with one another, and neither seem to really consider the repercussions that the end of the world may have on their relationship.

The euphoria, however, slowly fades in “When We Love,” as Aiko’s relationship insecurities begin to bubble up (“Don’t lose me, don’t lose me / Don’t choose me then use me / Just stay right beside me / Don’t you dare deny my love”). Instead of addressing these concerns, however, a male voice, presumably that of her lover, shuts her down and offers her a hit of marijuana, cuing “Sativa,” featuring Rae Sremmurd’s Swae Lee. Upbeat and fun, “Sativa” has Aiko feeling good—so good that she has become temporarily numb to her aforementioned anxieties.

Of course, it’s only a matter of time before Aiko’s high crashes, and it begins to do so in “Newer Balance-Freestyle.” After affirming her absolute love and commitment to her lover in the previous track, “New Balance” (“You’re my salvage / You’re my balance”), Aiko is once again overcome by uncertainty: “It would really be a shame / If you are just running game on me.” She deepens these doubts in “You Are Here,” in which a paranoid Aiko ponders the possibility of her relationship falling apart. Aiko has been through heartache before and fears her current relationship could inevitably end in a similar anguish. Such images are conjured up in “Never Call Me,” a track on which Aiko woefully admits that her previous relationship was destined to fail: “You knew all along that I wasn’t the one for you / So let’s stop pretending like we were in love / We never shared anything but the drugs / We were both numb, never had anything real between us.”

At this point, Aiko, overwhelmed by her vulnerabilities, takes a plunge into the dark. She declares her apathy and disdain towards the world around her in “Nobody,” and then immediately enters into her own personal nightmare, accompanied by chilling vocals and literal screams. Arguably the darkest, most horrific track on “Trip,” “Overstimulated” features a frightened Aiko demanding an explanation for her misery (“What the f**k did you give me / Did you see that? / Get me out of here / Why would you do this to me?”). Her cries for mercy continue—unanswered—in “Bad Trip.”

But Aiko’s hellish visions eventually pass, and she slowly begins to find the strength within herself to arise from her own personal hell in “Oblivion (Creation).” She realizes that there are indeed repercussions for placing so much emotional capital in drugs and men. She perhaps needs to find it in herself to heal, rather than seek it externally. Her self-reflection continues in “Psilocybin (Love in Full Effect),” in which she thoughtfully commits to beginning the process—one that she recognizes will take time—of healing (“Open up your mind and you’ll feel it, the healing / Go slowly, so slower / No need to rush it”).

By the end of “Trip,” Aiko begins to break free from her horror, vowing to accept a path of redemption for herself in “Ascension,” with the understanding that she will have to emancipate herself from her grief (“I’m on my way, I’m on my way to heaven / I’m on my way, if I can make it out of this hell / I know I can and I know I will”). Her affirmation is restated in the confident, ruminative final track of the album, “Trip” (Who can save me? / You can’t, baby”).

Although the length of “Trip” may cause it to lose some listeners, it is truly a masterpiece of an album. Sustained by Aiko’s provocative lyricism, “Trip” is brilliant, encapsulating the highs and lows of our vocalist’s rocky voyage of self-examination and soul-searching. Measured and beautifully arranged, “Trip” is by all definitions an experience that does not disappoint.