Album Review: Cut Ties by Kiana Ledé
Coming off of drama and trauma with her second album from last year, Kiana Ledé comes out as an independent artist with a balanced perspective to get some reassurance on ‘Cut Ties.'
Kiana Ledé is one of the silent killers in R&B. Last year, she released Grudges, laden with some of the best songs in her career laced with vivid writing. She’s known for her authentic storytelling and emotional depth, evident in her recent singles “Natural” and “Space and Pussy.” In “Natural,” Kiana explores intimate themes with simplicity while maintaining a sensual undertone. The accompanying music video, however, contrasts the sensuality with a dark narrative of betrayal and revenge, capturing the viewer’s attention. Meanwhile, the stripped-back “Space and Pussy” confronts the complexities of a failed relationship, channeling regret, and unreciprocated emotion through its acoustic vibe, even if it doesn’t stand out from the pack. Through Cut Ties, Kiana seems to embrace themes that align with the season’s eerie allure as stepping out as an independent artist under BMG.
“Too Many Strings” offers a refined perspective on the subtleties of romantic entanglements, capturing the emotional gravity and involute tensions that ensue when passion and practicality collide. Over a mellow guitar and harp backdrop, Ledé grapples with emotional investment and vulnerability as the song progresses, drawing on metaphorical language to describe the progression of a relationship: “Started off as a flame, turned into a thing.” The song’s thematic exploration of addiction to another person’s presence parallels substance dependency, followed by “Weakness,” creating a layered portrayal of love as both gratifying and disarming. In particular, the repeated assertion, “As long as I’m breathing, you’ll be my weakness,” wraps the essence of the track: an unyielding vulnerability tied to the desire for connection.
Ledé’s vocal nuances further aid in conveying this push-pull dynamic. She blends strength with a mournful admission of her limitations, playing with the notion that sometimes what we crave most fiercely is what also exposes our deepest vulnerabilities. “LTF” opens the album with a narrative deeply rooted in vulnerability and transition, highlighted by the apposition between past emotional reservations and the embrace of newfound love. She illustrates the internal battle between opening up and the instinct to retreat to self-protective habits (“Anytime I feel I’m getting closer, I start losing my composure.”). When Ledé mentions, “When nothing’s missing, I’ll question everything,” she envelops the paradox of being skeptical of good things when they seem too good to be true. Most of us ladies can attest to that.
Throughout Cut Ties, Ledé grapples with a past partner who is chronically inconsistent and forgetful about the shared memories and emotional investment that once defined the bond on “U Can’t Remember.” The hook underscores the imbalance in the relationship, where one partner is willing to put their mental well-being on hold—“Put a pause on my mental health/And I stop thinking for myself”—while the other seems oblivious or indifferent. Through candid expressions like “fuck the floating, that ain’t good enough,” Ledé establishes an apparent refusal to settle for mediocrity, reinforcing the importance of pursuing passion and intensity in the face of inertia with the slow groove in “Burn It Up.”
Remember when mentioning her writing skills from earlier? Through her piquant storytelling, “Outta Luck” captures the essence of a lover grappling with regret and longing after losing something irreplaceable. She contrasts the cursory allure of these temporary distractions with the enduring absence of genuine love, reflecting on the emotional desolation that her former partner experiences. Her reflective and somewhat cautionary tone is underscored by her repeated confessions that the new partner can never measure up to what was lost: “She isn’t me; no one compares.” It’s clear that through these themes, Kiana Ledé’s effort becomes a declaration of agency, urging a move away from stagnation toward a life marked by avidity and intent.
The closing track, “The Truth?” reveals an individual grappling with reservations and doubts, adhered with an unwavering commitment to another, wrapping the paradox of personal sacrifice. Ledé articulates the internal conflict of wanting to remain grounded—illustrated through the metaphor of “stand so down in the grass, in the sand”—while simultaneously yearning to support a partner unconditionally. The emphasis on cautiousness and honesty reveals a continuous tension between authentic expression and the tendency to prioritize someone else’s needs, as when she states, “Even lie to myself to tell you the truth.” By listening through this album, every song reveals the sophistries of struggle, emphasizing the unpredictability of emotions and interpersonal connections while accentuating Ledé’s resolution to embrace challenges for the sake of love.
Great (★★★★☆)
Favorite Track(s): “Weakness,” “Too Many Strings,” “Outta Luck”