The Nashville native sounds like Johnny Cash came back from the dead as a woman who isn’t afraid to look gross AF and talk about it, too.
Photo by Mike Massaro
If you’re into something that sounds like raw musical bits torn up into pieces and then smashed back together again in calculated chaos—you will very much enjoy Adia Victoria‘s Beyond the Bloodhounds. The album reads like a distant echo of an old Victrola Phonograph with modern jazz, afro-punk and experimental folk influences. However, her strong and deeply haunting vocals are the ultimate unifying factor throughout the dynamic yet esoteric twelve-track album.
This Nashville, Tennessee native has all the rough cut grit of legends like Johnny Cash or even Tom Waits, packed up in an edgy, rock ‘n roll package. Much like both of these artists, Adia’s music transcends genres, delivering her message in a very direct and unique style. On top of that, she’s also a written and spoken word poet, former ballet dancer and French major. She says of the album, “I wrote this album as a memorial to my 20s. Those are tender years for a lot of women. It hurts. You get busted up in love and life. You make a lot of mistakes. You meet a lot of people who do you dirty because you don’t understand your value yet.”
Though she is older and wiser for these experiences, the image she presents of herself is far from perfect. “I don’t necessarily paint myself in a flattering light,” Adia says. “This isn’t the pop version of pretty or the strategically posed pretty-ugly. Sometimes I’m just ugly. There’s a brat in some of these songs, selfish, naïve, vengeful, but there’s also a tender eye that just wants the listener to feel seen and understood.” Many of her tracks echo this sentiment in a disorganized yet thought through way—and the result is a cathartic experience for all.