Released in the shadow of a very public legal battle with her longtime producer Inflo, Lotus arrives with all eyes on Little Simz, not just to see how she’d address the betrayal, but whether it would fracture or fortify her artistry. It’s the latter.

The album opens with Thief, one of the coldest, most biting diss tracks in hip-hop history. It’s direct, detailed, and delivered with devastating poetic confidence because of how tightly wound and precise it is, with poise and control to her anger that makes it cut deeper. But Lotus isn’t defined by revenge or retribution, instead offering a full spectrum of the human experience, with a continual flow between grit and grace, confrontation and care, quickly moving between extremes. One moment she’s biting down hard on a memory that clearly still burns, the next she’s opening her chest to let in joy, forgiveness, and beauty.

Simz is a short-form rhythmic storyteller with quick bars that never feel rushed, and her stories are personal and specific, but accessible. The way she speaks plainly and passionately about complex emotional terrain makes her a national treasure, accompanied by some of the most lavish, organic, and subtly cinematic production to appear on any hip-hop record this year. Where others opt for 808s and trap hats, Lotus leans into chamber strings, rolling drums, and jazz-inflected keys, often swelling to full orchestral arrangement, then falling back to skeletal intimacy. The soundscapes are filled with fine detail and texture, with instrumentation that feels performed, not programmed.

The album has a timelessness, like it could sit beside a 1970s soul record. The track Free deserves special attention, and might be the heart of the whole project, feeling like a conversation between generations, with emotionally striking and clever wordplay. For all the hard edges this record contains, it’s incredibly warm at it’s core, with a protectiveness to the way Simz writes about herself and her community. She’s earned the right to be defensive, but she chooses instead to open her hands and show the world what she’s been carrying. That’s rare in a genre where posturing is often mistaken for power.

Hollow eschews percussion entirely, just lilting strings and sparse keys hovering gently as Simz delivers her verses in a voice so quiet and confiding that it feels almost invasive to be listening, like she’s not rapping for a mic but murmuring to a friend, crouched together on a doorstep, shoulders brushing, eyes on the pavement, with an intimacy that’s raw and true. From this point on, the record enters a radiant stretch of collaborations, each with its own groove and colour.

The album opens with bite, making sure the truth is laid out and the record set straight, but from that sharp exhale, Simz moves inward not with a revenge fantasy, but a nourishing reflection on honesty and connection. Much of Lotus feels like a series of real conversations with friends, family, and herself. Some are joyous and light, others heavy with betrayal, shame, or unhealed grief. While Simz is technically rapping, what she’s doing in spirit isn’t far from the soul queens of the ‘70s with a clarity of voice, a command of mood, and a personal gravity that places her alongside the greats. As the latest entry in a flawless run of releases, Lotus only deepens her claim as one of the most vital artists of our time.