Priya Ragu’s energy and innovation hits new heights on Santhosam

On her debut mixtape, 2021’s damnshestamil, she explored a wide range of dance-pop and R&B all with the dexterity of someone who has full confidence in what their vision. With her first full-length, Santhosam, the magic hasn’t yet vanished.

Santhosam, meaning ‘happiness’ in Tamil, drips in bawdy confidence, asserting, “No X pill ‘cause the trance natural / Damn she’s Tamil, her energy ‘prem / Don diva, fold my hands like shiva” on the dexterous and fun “Hit the Bucket”, the energetic, swinging disco on “One Way Ticket”, or fighting back gender roles on the swaggering, Tamil-influenced “School Me Like That”, where she follows her own rules. “How can I stay awake for somebody else’s dream?” she asks, before saying on the chorus, “Just look at me now / Wake up to things I really wanna do.”

There’s a lightness and ease to the album, owing to the personal growth to happiness Ragu documents within its tracks: she side-steps overthinking on the garage “Easy”, on the groovy, R&B influenced “CornerStore”, she imagines life with someone after a chance encounter, and on “Lovely Day”, she has to stop and feel gratitude for the warmth in her life (“Take my time, ‘cause I don’t feel like rushing”). This isn’t some daydreaming fantasy, though, as noted in the bouncy “Escape”: her desires, demands and loves are all real — on the brooding, unusually dark “Uyiree”, too, it’s clear her slowing it down is completely intentional and serious.

Santhosam isn’t a pure, 100% happy-go-lucky record, however – there’s a powerful, arresting moment with “Black Goose”, a jangly, bizarrely shaped song written in the wake of George Floyd’s murder in 2020 and the Black Lives Matter protests that followed that summer. “Officer, don’t shoot,” she pleads, “I got so much shit to do / Gotta get back to my family, plus rent is overdue.” Juxtaposing tumultuous verses with a light, flute-laden chorus, it’s impossible not to leave feeling a little discombobulated, especially with its heavenly reprise right after, where Ragu and a choir chant, “God, let them breathe.” It’s one of the most stirring musical moments of the year.

If Santhosam has a flaw, it’s that the tracks get muddled in on themselves — that George Floyd tribute comes straight after three songs essentially about wanting to dance. But it's hard to blame Ragu for throwing too much at the wall when most of it sticks. Her ambition rarely leads her off-kilter, even when producing 15 wildly varied songs. During a musical landscape where everything blends in, her idea of being unignorable is noble.

Priya Ragu is a masterful pop innovator, and Santhosam is a clear indication of what might happen when an artist’s overflowing creativity is allowed to be freed. Unforgettable, powerful, and easygoing all at once, Ragu’s maximalist debut is a special mark on the landscape from a new pop disruptor.