Canadian singer and songwriter Justin Bieber has unveiled his 7th studio album ‘SWAG’, an LP which is his most powerful career project yet.
SWAG is more akin to a late-night discussion in which Justin Bieber is reflecting rather than performing. The way it develops has a really personal quality to it. The pause, the quiet, and the weight between his words are all audible. This record is simply being honest; it is not attempting to impress or follow the charts.
It’s challenging to mimic that rawness. It sounds as though he has welcomed us into his studio—not the glitzy, press-friendly kind, but the actual one. The one where he is surrounded by a select few people who genuinely understand him, the lights are dim, and the atmosphere is quiet. There are only those who speak the same silent, unheard, and imaginative language—no crowds, no headlines.
We have come to anticipate a polished, radio-ready Bieber, but this isn’t him. It is bare. In the adjacent room, there are beats that seem to have been taken from an old soul record and synths that hum like memories. Not in a strictly sentimental way, but rather in the way it pushes into emotion without armour, it brings to mind the vulnerability of New Edition, Marvin Gaye, and Michael Jackson. Albums such as “What’s Going On,” “A Song for You,” and “Voodoo” weren’t clean. They were questions, confessions, and letters to oneself, to loves, and to God. Since soul music has always been very human, incredibly imperfect, and inherently inquisitive, there is also a spiritual element at work here. Whether it is aware of it or not, SWAG is a part of that family.
Being soulful involves honesty, not necessarily being smooth. In SWAG, a dialogue is taking place not only among the songs but also within them. In real time, you can hear him figuring things out. connections. Notoriety. self-esteem. Faith. Distance. There are interludes with just talking and letting the moment breathe. And to me, those moments are some of the most powerful, because they don’t try to be anything more than what they are. They remind you that silence says more than lyrics ever could and that sometimes questions can linger longer than its answers.
Bieber is obviously reflecting on the past, not only the public frenzy of the past ten or so years, but also on the private moments we were not privy to. Exaggerated entourages, outdated expectations, and noise are all things he is getting rid of. What remains? A more deliberate, smaller group of pals has taken their place. a companion. A son. A mirror. A God. Himself.
The songs discuss love, but not in the glitzy, superficial manner that pop music frequently does. It carries weight. A kind of love that lasts a lifetime. A love in which “we’re still learning each other.” A “some days I lose myself and you stay” type of relationship. Beyond that, there is a more subdued conversation about belonging, purpose, and who stays after the lights go off.
There are tunes that hurt. Some are familiar. Some people inhabit the transitional area between the two, where emotions are felt even when one is not always aware of them. SWAG does just that. It doesn’t require your focus. It gains your confidence.
Justin Bieber is attempting to be present rather than flawless. And that’s why it’s so strong. As one of the songs states, “it’s been too long,” and we have been waiting for his musical touch for a very long time. But now that it’s arrived, we’re ready to embrace Justin Bieber in all of its unadulterated, unadulterated splendour.
