Boombox Blitz: Naomi Wild destroys social constructs in ‘Howlin”
The pop breakout aims to rearrange society’s standards.
Welcome to Boombox Blitz, an artist spotlight series showcasing overlooked singers, songwriters and musicians who are quietly taking over the world.
Social media is an animalistic landscape, tearing us limb by limb in an attempt to be heard. It forces us to care about things we really shouldn’t. We become slaves to societal norms, cloaked in clicks, likes and RTs. Naomi Wild, the storyteller behind Odesza’s “Higher Grounder,” flips the script and details the grim reality of those standards while also trying to free herself from blistered, razor-sharp talons. The scars wear prominently on her skin, manifested in the crisp, white garb she dons as she makes her way through a snowy, forested landscape. “I might just let you into my soul / Leave your shoes at the door / I’ve done this before,” she snarls, lips curled, head cocked. “You like the way I don’t care / I hate the way that I do / I wanna sink my teeth in / Oh, but my ego is bruised.”
Wild’s craftsmanship is sterling, a knotty and devilish reflection of today’s harsh expectations. On the song, she detailed, “‘Howlin’’ is that moment when you decide to say ‘fuck what everyone else thinks.’ We all have these two lives that we all live: the person we are behind closed doors and who we are around other people- the version of ourselves that’s socially acceptable. I feel like we sometimes forget that we’re all really still just animals in a concrete jungle.”
Her brazen attitude soaks the screen. The dancers, who cling to her body like leeches sucking her veins and bone marrow dry, embody the carnivorous state, later exuded through the image of a wolf eyeing her from over a cold, icy crest. “Now I’m howling for you like an animal / Would you see me back home? Back home…” she sings, situating her building resentment in the larger framework, a splendid spectacle. Her form goes through a torrid ritual as it is lifted into the air to magnify the bold message. “I might just drop my guard to the floor / Let my body talk / I’ve done this before,” she asserts in between shredded vocals and billowing production. She later slathers paint on a dark wall-like canvas, yet another gripping display of her curdling emotions.
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