In the cover art of Selamat Pulang, Syiqin Azln captures the aesthetics of ‘sad girl music’ effortlessly. The blue-toned cover art, brilliantly shot by Nico Boi, portrays Syiqin’s figure blurred as she sways by the seashore, looking up to the bright sky above her head, contrasting the deep blue water. ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover,’ they say, but when a cover raises as many questions of sorrow as Phoebe Bridgers’ Stranger In The Alps or Mitski’s Puberty 2, you can’t help but wonder if the melancholy will come as soon as you press play.

Admittedly, I have a strong prejudice against pop music that is repackaged into “galau” music, whether intentionally or not — some kind of music movement carried by TikTok and its citizens hungry for relatable sad music. Think the fate of Nadin Amizah’s “Rayuan Perempuan Gila” – sped up, slowed down, Plankton-ed, and be the background music for adolescence and their break-up screenshots or Pasar Seni must-try cafes vlogs. And because of this tiresome monoculture phenomenon plaguing TikTok and Syiqin Azln’s idols are the very artists whose music have been tormented with this fast-food treatment — I worry if Selamat Pulang is made with such an audience in mind.

As I delve deeper into the 17-minute EP, I know that these tracks promise something bigger than just music made for your FYP. Early reviews of her work mentioned the remnants of Liyana Fizi’s solo work lingering around, which are evident, especially if you miss a folk singer-songwriter music with a similar style as the indie darling. But as you dig through, Syiqin Azln’s allure stands out in her vocals and songwriting. In Selamat Pulang, she forms a solid identity to make you forget her predecessors and even the works likening it.

The EP’s opener “Muka” is an instrumental track that lingers with gloom, it sufficiently introduces the listeners on what to expect from the rest of the project. Backed by rain droplets on the glass ceiling, slow piano and recording of people walking through the door, living their life, the track later ends with Syiqin singing a verse from “Pelangi Kembali” before ending with a soft, almost invisible transition to the single released in 2022.

Her vocals oscillate between whispers of a lover no longer hopefully in love, a comfortable friend and trusting you enough to share their work-in-progress bedroom songs and a songstress finding her footing. The EP is easily a solid work because of her confidence in her vocals, pushing the “Syiqin Azln” identity deeper into the folk pop genre that is still paving its way to find its brightest stars.

In “Secukupnya”, the EP’s greatest gift, Syiqin sings about people who sincerely love her and those who simply don’t. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, she welcomes both parties into her lives with warmth. Its airy instruments and swaying melodies stick to you the second she sings: “Dan di mata mereka / Aku si penjahat / Yang menjengkelkan / Yang harus ditinggal.” It’s a whisper of acceptance of her flaws and the people who dislike her for it. Being unlikeable is a painful pill to swallow, she declares underneath it all. But Syiqin’s songwriting is conscious of herself as a flawed human being, as the track closes with a parallel, a statement that she’s enough for people who are willing to accept her wholeheartedly: “Dan di mata mereka / Aku secukupnya / Lebih atau kurang / Aku masih disayang.”

Another highlight that showcases her maturity is “Kita Pernah Bahagia”. The narrator waves goodbye to the memories made with a relationship that has ended and still, its gratitude springs through and through. She steps into the role of a former lover who wishes the nostalgia to stay with her, despite its ugliness and because of its beauty: “Kita bahagia / Walau akhirnya kita berpisah / Bagiku semua ini masih indah.” Just like “Secukupnya” this track beams with personal growth. When you’ve reached the acceptance stage of grief, who can stop you from honouring the memories that made the journey worth it?

At its lowest moment though, the EP songwriting fell flat and awkward. The songwriting in “Sincerely, You” captures a one-dimensional perception of the narrator’s suffering. The pep talk feels dull, separating it from the rest of the EP that is more polished, more confident of its final form. “I know you’ve been overwhelmed / So let’s do our best / And reach for the stars / Give it chance to yourself.” — she croons, as if she is standing awkwardly in front of a mirror and voicing self-affirmation words that are akin to self-help quotes on Pinterest. This is the only English song in the EP, but it’s not so much an issue with the language; rather, her songwriting works best when she’s not highlighting the person the song was written for, but instead focusing on the reason it had to be written in the first place.

Still, peace springs from Selamat Pulang in a way that the stories were long burnt into ashes, and now it’s time to morph them into her glowing stick of optimism. The EP is an introduction to her artistry and waves a flag of mature songwriting, hand in hand with her gentle lullaby-like vocals. The tracks serve as reminders that you’ve reached the end of this pain, now’s the time to rest. She seems to be fluent of this state of tranquility.

Listen to the EP on Spotify below: