Nobody’s Rihanna, and That’s Fine

Some tracks don’t demand anything from you. No close attention, no emotional labor. You just need something running in the background while you sit in your underwear working through a joint and a cold pizza, letting time soften around the edges—something that keeps the room from feeling too quiet without ever asserting itself. That is a genuinely useful category of music and it doesn’t get nearly enough respect.

I’d never heard of Saya before someone sent me Paid, her track with a guy called Kris. I still don’t know much about either of them—she’s from Toronto, she posts good photos on Instagram, the beat sits low and easy, and three minutes pass without incident. It’s not a milestone. The video looks nice. That’s all it needs to be.

Not everything has to be more than that. Sometimes the highest compliment I can give something is: I put it on and forgot it was playing, and that was exactly right. Can’t all be Rihanna.