There’s a certain time every year when the weight of everything in my life hits in a way that feels almost too specific. It’s usually during the cold winter months, right when the pressure of first-semester exams starts to build up, and the bright blue skies become a rare sight. As everything slows down, I spend more time in my head, craving affection and reassurance to quiet the self-doubt and insecurities creeping in. This year, though, SZA’s surprise deluxe release of CTRL was exactly what I needed to get through that rough patch.
When CTRL first came out, I was only seventeen, and honestly, a lot of the themes and messages went over my head. It wasn’t until I experienced certain things in life—especially in love—that I could really start to relate to what SZA was singing about. That’s why I was so excited for the deluxe. Now, a little older and wiser, I’m able to hear the album through the lens of a young adult still figuring things out, just like she was when she first wrote it.
The deluxe kicks off with “Love Galore (Alt Version),” an alternate take on the original hit with Travis Scott. In this version, SZA drops Travis’s verse—the male perspective—and replaces it with a raw, extended rant about where her head’s at. While Travis’s verse was iconic in the original, it feels so empowering to hear SZA speak her truth without the back-and-forth. When she sings, “I been looking good, I been feeling nice / working on my aura,” it’s clear she’s left the toxicity of competing for someone else’s attention behind, embracing her own growth and self-worth.
Unfortunately, the lush, euphonious aura introduced by the opener quickly fades back into the CTRL we know and love—one marked by panging guitar strums and the familiar haze of love-drunk uncertainty. The second track of the deluxe, “2 AM,” takes us right back to the parking lot conversations and late-night musings SZA became known for. She revisits the woes of hook-up culture with a bittersweet edge, borrowing the chorus from PARTYNEXTDOOR’s “Come and See Me.” The song feels like a sonic snapshot of that 2015-2017 trap-cum-R&B era, capturing the feeling of being stuck in a repetitive cycle of late-night calls, desperate for validation. But this time, SZA isn’t begging for approval. She’s moved past the need to accept crumbs, something she did so effortlessly on tracks like “Drew Barrymore” and “The Weekend.”
Despite returning to familiar ground, CTRL (Deluxe) reveals a deeper, more mature SZA. She still wears her heart on her sleeve, but now with a layer of self-awareness. She croons about the same challenges—maturity, acceptance, and self-love—that plagued her earlier work. Yet, the difference this time is that she’s no longer the girl struggling to understand her worth. In the original CTRL, SZA used insecurities and pettiness as armor, keeping her emotional walls high in the face of emotional neglect. In “Supermodel,” she lets the hurt leak out in stinging, self-deprecating lines. But now, on “Tread Carefully,” SZA is setting boundaries, knowing when to walk away from situations that no longer serve her.
The most striking thing about CTRL (Deluxe) is the undeniable growth in her voice and perspective. If I didn’t know better, I might dismiss the album as a lack of self-introspection—calling it a regression to familiar themes. But there’s something magnetic about how SZA narrates her evolution. Her vulnerability hasn’t gone anywhere; it’s just that now, her understanding of love and herself feels more complete. The singer we first encountered in “Supermodel,” riddled with insecurities and self-destructive tendencies, is now asserting herself with confidence. On tracks like “Tread Carefully,” SZA sings, “I got a different set of urgencies now,” a declaration of maturity that hits harder than any of her previous bangers.
That’s not to say the familiar CTRL magic is gone. The deluxe package still indulges in the same youthful messiness that endeared her to fans in the first place. The hook-ups, the toxic situationships, the tension of feeling like you’re not enough—SZA still finds beauty in all of it. But there’s a new layer of self-preservation. The ability to walk away, to choose yourself, and to embrace the complexity of growing up—especially in romantic relationships—is woven through the album. SZA’s musical growth on the deluxe is matched by the rawness of her lyricism. She doesn’t sugarcoat the messiness of adulting; she immerses us in it. Her willingness to explore the deeper, more painful aspects of her romantic experiences—without losing her sense of self—is what makes the deluxe so compelling.
While some might argue that the deluxe feels like a return to familiar ground, there’s no denying that CTRL (Deluxe) reflects a more evolved SZA. The album captures her journey from the girl who couldn’t see her own worth to the woman who unapologetically claims it. The balance between vulnerability and strength is what makes this deluxe release so captivating. Yes, it’s the same CTRL we fell in love with, but now it’s richer, more nuanced, and infused with a sense of self-love and personal growth that wasn’t as apparent in the original.
The deluxe isn’t just a rehashing of old tracks with new twists—it’s a testimony to the messy beauty of self-evolution. SZA has always been an open book, sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly of love, heartbreak, and self-discovery. But in this deluxe edition, she’s finally finding her own narrative and reframing the story to one of healing and empowerment. There’s something undeniably refreshing about hearing SZA not just muse on her mistakes but actively work through them. CTRL (Deluxe) may revisit old themes, but it also marks the beginning of a new chapter—a more mature, confident, and self-aware version of the artist who’s only just begun to tell her most powerful story.
