Little Simz: A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons
I was fifteen the first time I heard the words “Women can be kings”, declared so confidently and matter-of-factly. A chunky, queer, and biracial kid in a conservative Catholic high school, I first discovered A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons scrolling through Apple News, searching for a new album or artist to alleviate my boredom during sophomore year French. But what I stumbled upon instead was a raw but grandiose blend of Hip-Hop and Jazz storytelling that my Spotify library was missing, and that still influences and shapes my own music today.
Little Simz is a globally critically acclaimed experimental rapper and singer who draws from jazz, rock, and hip hop influences and has performed her music all over the world, on tour and at various festivals such as Afropunk. Similar sounding artists include Kendrick Lamar, the Gorillaz, and Anna Wise. While Little Simz has previous to and since A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons dropped in 2015 released a plethora of music including EPs, mixtapes, and singles, I chose to look back on Trials + Persons partially because it still remains such an underrated album in the Hip-Hop catalog, and partially because of my developing interest in the early works of various artists.
As the title suggests, A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons is a concept album, and it recounts stories that consist of a cast of characters who operate both as unique fictional players in the tale as well as a sort of mouthpiece and narrative lens through which Simz’ sort of omniscient self, also called Simbi, resides and operates her rapidly changing world, and the struggles, fears, and excitements of entering the industry and teetering on the fine line between rising to fame and falling from grace—what the North London rapper refers to frequently as selling her soul.
“A tale of gain and loss—
trials and persons will be explained.
Don’t be intimidated, but it’s okay to be confused.
All will make sense in the end.
They took her wings,
and they told her flying was impossible.
They told her,
‘Women cannot call themselves kings.’
They told her,
‘Fame is not made for everyone.’
Trials and persons will be explained.
Women can be kings.”
The first track opens with a poem punctuated by detuned, dirty bass hits, rapidly building on the wavy and atmospheric backdrop of electric piano loops. “Persons” introduces the main thread of questions that the album asks and themes that Simbi uses to string together the different narratives of each character. Each story examines and explores a range of topics, including the constraints and boundaries placed on Black women by the music industry and society at large; the addictions and attitudes we take on in order to avoid processing our fears and pain; and the necessary grit and grind demanded of Black women, especially dark-skinned Black women, that has become apparently characteristic and stereotypical of us, even when it’s just the method through which survive. Simz is clearly no stranger to the realities of the entertainment industry, but before she delves into the various stories, poems, and tragedies within, Simz makes it a point to kick off the album by demonstrating to listeners exactly who she is: a King.
I invested in equipment,
fuck it—I’m taking it all.
Do this shit myself,
but now there’s Mary next door.
I know for a fact this just might be
a problem.
Cause when I turn those speakers up
there ain’t no one to stop me.
So in love with the sound,
it probably messed with my hearing
when I recorded this
like I needed Mary to hear it.
Come to think of it, she’s
heard everything before the world has.
Heard the EPs way before the world has.
Heard me singing live way before the world has.
Heard my mistakes and frustration
way before the world has.
If I had to undergo the impossible task of choosing a favorite track, “God Bless Mary” would have to be my personal standout title in A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons. Warm but crisp vocalizations by Tatiana immediately draw in your listening, peaking and dipping like waves, dissipating into the background while Simz emerges on the first verse. What follows is a tribute by the artist to an exceedingly patient woman, who by proximity is—albeit not exactly by choice—one of Little Simz’ earliest listeners: her next-door neighbor, Mary.
“God Bless Mary” is tender. It’s a tender song rooted in the relatability of having dreams but not actually having your shit together; and in the spontaneity of random kindness that restores your faith in humanity. In particular, the first few lines of the excerpt above hit home, not just because of the (too many) times I’ve greedily splurged a whole paycheck on plugins, mic stands, whatever—but also because of how perfectly Simz captures the struggle of actually, really, genuinely being an independent artist. Being a truly independent, Black, artist doesn’t just mean being under your own label or unrepresented. It also means that a lot of the time you’re independent in support, too.
Financial, emotional, professional support—those are things that artists under a label that is organized for their success can count on. Those are things that artists who come from artist parents, who didn’t have to get discovered, who called a family friend and then started touring a year later—those are things that artists who are groomed and nurtured can count on. And it’s not an accident that most of those artists (especially the ones who seemingly “blow up” overnight, but were born to rich parents with all the connections in the world) are white. Something people don’t want to talk about when it comes to “networking” and nepotism in the entertainment industry is the simple fact that any dynastic culture that lives in a community is inherently based in herd supremacy.
Basically: the music industry keeps hiring the same people and their kids to keep itself white and exclusive.
Being a black artist is being a self-taught artist. A self-affirming and self-encouraging artist. Being a black artist is writing lyrics at 3 AM in your bedroom, staring at the ceiling, and praying to God that your words might actually be heard. In a sense, this is the essence of rap itself. It’s why, try as they might, white rappers will never and can never accurately and profoundly capture the essence, richness, flavor, and substance of rap music. Poetry about freedom, about ambitions, about struggle and oppression—those things will never be as profound coming from people in a society structured to afford them opportunities on the condition that it takes them away from others.
I just might sell my soul
‘cause I don’t feel like
I am a part of the world
no more.
Will anybody miss me when I’m gone?
Will anybody miss me?
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Prolly not.
I’mma sell my soul
cause I don’t feel like
I am a part of the world
no more.
Will anybody miss me when I’m gone?
Do you wanna see a dead body?
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Prolly not.
One of the artist’s earliest hits in general, I’d have to say that “Dead Body” has got to be the defining track on A Curious Tale of Trials + Persons. In classic Simz style, this song builds on an extended metaphor that encompasses a lot of the main questions of the album, and that frames the central narrative and perspective of a fictional homeless man addicted to drugs and on the brink of death. Despite being entirely grim in description, “Dead Body” is beyond haunting—it’s just plain cool.
I’ve always been a slut for metaphors, but what makes this song not just a shining moment for the album, but for the jazz rap movement as a whole is the way the song stretches the bounds of basic words and ideas, and molds them into an actually new shape. In a field of cliches, Simz actually manages to do something different, something that people like Billie Eilish and Glass Animals are notable for doing now, but that rappers like Little Simz have been doing for years.
For example, the way she breaks down homelessness is fascinating. In essence, the word is sort of split into its basic parts, and listeners are sort of left wondering how literal this homelessness is and whether the artist is referring to a literal homeless junkie; the state of feeling like you’re floating in the strata during tour, where you’re between identical-looking hotel rooms thousands of kilos away from each other and you just really miss eating a home-cooked meal; or a combination of the two. After probably my thousandth listen, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s none of the above. Rather, the experience is sort of the same thing. People judge you at face value, not really giving you the time of day like they’d give to a “normal” person, because they’ve already decided they know your whole history.
And it feels like a kind of irreversible state on both sides. On one hand, say you blew up overnight (not like TikTok dance blow up, but like Lizzo blow up), and all of a sudden, everybody knows who you are. That’s probably not gonna disappear as quickly as it showed up. And if you become a real star (like Lizzo), that’s for forever or for as long as your body and mind can keep up with the industry’s demands. On the complete other end of the spectrum, homelessness has a parallel sort of experience. But in place of fame, there is stigma. I can say from experience homelessness and its stigma can feel indelible. And both in the US and in the UK, it’s practically inescapable if you are truly alone. In this case, the homelessness of fame is more like a homelessness of mind, an internal depression and emptiness that comes from “selling your soul”.
On that cheery note, it’s super exciting and beyond satisfying to say that not only has Little Simz not fallen from grace, she’s properly grown into it. Since releasing A Curious Tale of Trials + Person, Little Simz has since released a plethora of singles, collabs, mixtapes, and albums, and has toured and performed in arenas and festivals around the world. It’s safe to say that Little Simz is actually no longer one to watch—she’s the whole scene. Simz is still to this day one of my favorite artists and one of my top inspirations since I first stumbled upon her music five years ago, and Trials + Persons is an album I can’t stop coming back to. If you’re looking for a Simbi intro: this is it.