{"id":870754,"date":"2026-08-25T09:50:25","date_gmt":"2026-08-25T09:50:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/870754\/"},"modified":"2026-08-25T09:50:25","modified_gmt":"2026-08-25T09:50:25","slug":"jorja-smith-what-are-the-odds-album-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/870754\/","title":{"rendered":"Jorja Smith: What Are the Odds Album Review"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jorja Smith<\/a> says her fundamental intention for What Are the Odds is that listeners \u201cmove and be moved.\u201d She comes closest on \u201cWhat\u2019s Done Is Done,\u201d an old-school UK garage track with a woozy, G-funk looseness. The snake charmer\u2019s melody gives the R&B singer plenty to tease, and she\u2019s in command as she sends her ex packing. It\u2019s a rare burst of momentum on her third album, where more often than not, Smith sounds like she\u2019s late to the party, fitting herself around the beat instead of giving it shape.<\/p>\n

A year after 2023\u2019s Falling or Flying<\/a>, Smith took a break, at least by pop-star standards. She released deluxe and reimagined editions of that album, toured, and dropped a bunch of singles, including one for the soundtrack of Riz Ahmed\u2019s Bait series. But she pulled back from social media, telling British GQ<\/a> that she\u2019d faced online scrutiny of her body. Then, last October, the British dance act Haven released \u201cI Run,\u201d a viral EDM track with vocals that sounded so close to Smith\u2019s that the internet briefly assumed it was one of her unreleased recordings. Her label, FAAM, leveled accusations<\/a> of AI cloning and sought royalties<\/a>.<\/p>\n

No score yet, be the first to add.<\/p>\n

Smith has spent the time between albums trying, in different ways, to reclaim ownership of her image and voice, which makes the emotional distance she maintains on What Are the Odds feel somewhat intentional. She always sounds like Jorja Smith, but throughout the record, she\u2019s drenched in reverb or blurred by soft-focus synths. Hovering at roughly the same level as programmed percussion, her voice often registers as just another element in the arrangement. The effect is dreamy and sometimes hypnotic, but it keeps her performance at arm\u2019s length. Smith rarely takes risks or experiments with her range, either. She briefly dusts off her rapping on the title track, only to cringe up the moment quoting Oliver Twist.<\/p>\n

Opener \u201cFor Life\u201d sets the spacey mood that the album rarely escapes. Twinkling digital tones, skittering drums, and orchestral flourishes furnish an off-world club space. Producer P2J constructs a frictionless, synth-heavy soundscape, blending two-step garage, UK funky, and house. With few changes in atmosphere, the tracks begin to blur by the second half. The production sameness would be easier to bear if Smith\u2019s lyricism introduced more friction of its own. \u201cWhat you say, how you move, shit you do don\u2019t align,\u201d she gripes on \u201cPretend,\u201d chewing out a lover whose words don\u2019t match their actions. But other songs fall back on more generic breakup language (\u201cI lied, you lied,\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s done is done\u201d) without the same sense of conflicted emotion or lived-in detail.<\/p>\n

She keeps her feature list characteristically small, bringing in grime rapper Devlin and Afrobeats star Wizkid<\/a>, but neither collaboration leaves much of an impact. Wizkid\u2019s appearance makes sense given his longstanding work with P2J, and their track is breezy and easygoing as you\u2019d expect. But I\u2019d have much rather heard a song like \u201cCrush<\/a>,\u201d Smith\u2019s collab with AJ Tracey<\/a>, which samples Brandy<\/a>\u2019s \u201cLove Wouldn\u2019t Count Me Out\u201d and displays a cheekier side of Smith that this album badly needs.<\/p>\n