Piss in the Wind finds beauty in the unfinished

By Staff Writer Kayla Li

When fans opened Spotify after three years of inactivity for Joji’s newest album Piss in the Wind, many expected a fully realized reinvention of what a Joji album could be. At the very least, they anticipated the emotional gut punch he perfected on Smithereens, the 2022 studio album that solidified his place as a mainstream force in alternative R&B. Instead, listeners were met with fragments: 21 tracks, 14 of them under two minutes. Several barely cross the one-minute mark, a sharp contrast to the longer ballads like “Glimpse of Us” and “Slow Dancing in the Dark” that defined Joji’s breakout success.

That collective confusion is the best entry point into the record. Joji gives listeners glimpses of brilliance — sometimes seconds long — before yanking them away. If his earlier projects tried to build emotional architecture, this one lives in the rubble. Nothing is resolved, and that lack of resolution becomes the texture itself. Yet, texture alone does not guarantee impact. But an atmosphere built on absence demands precision, and not every track sustains that balance. 

The album struggles most in its unrealized potential. Tracks like “PIXELATED KISSES”, “Fade to Black (with 4batz)”, and “Fragments (with Don Toliver)” introduce melodic hooks or production shifts that promise a larger payoff, only to cut off before that momentum fully crests. “Last of a Dying Breed” feels especially restrained in this way, teasing a fuller production shift or climactic release that would typically anchor a track’s final moment, then withholding it without clear thematic justification. The listener is left suspended in anticipation, waiting for a release that never arrives. What initially feels deliberate begins to feel redundant. Instead of building toward catharsis, many of these tracks plateau midway through, flattening their narrative arcs. Joji gestures toward heartbreak, longing, and resentment, yet the songs withdraw just as those feelings begin to intensify — not because the withdrawal is the emotional statement, but because the songs seem unsure of how to follow through. Still, not every brief track suffers from this hesitation. At times, the album’s concision preserves a single impulse rather than forcing it into a larger arc, allowing certain moments to feel raw and immediate instead of unfinished.  

However, extension would not automatically improve these songs. At three minutes, “LOVE YOU LESS” is one of the album’s more fully developed tracks, yet it also resists traditional escalation. Joji sings, “If I love you less, will you love me more?” and circles that question rather than resolving it. The chorus loops without rising into a larger climax, trapping the song in the same anxious cycle it describes. Unlike earlier tracks that hint at growth before cutting themselves short, this restraint mirrors the song’s emotional logic. The repetition is not a missing payoff but the point itself. The issue, then, is not duration but intention.

Separate from its structural experimentation, Piss in the Wind often feels scattered in its sonic identity. Joji moves between drum and bass, trap soul, distorted club production, and softer R&B without settling into any one sound for long. The range should feel expansive, but it often comes across as unfocused, as if the album is cycling through ideas rather than shaping a clear sonic direction.

The album finds stable ground only sporadically. “LOVE YOU LESS”, “Past Won’t Leave My Bed”, “Piece of You (with Giveon)”, “Sojourn”, and “DYKILY” are more conventionally developed, allowing their production to expand gradually rather than cutting themselves short. On “Past Won’t Leave My Bed”, Joji sings: “She’s stuck on rewind in my mind / I try to move on, but the past won’t leave my bed,” framing memory as something cyclical and inescapable. Unlike the earlier fragments, the song allows that image to develop across multiple sections. “Sojourn” in particular feels like the fully realized form of what “PIXELATED KISSES” was reaching for — textured and purposeful, the kind of track that reminds you exactly why Joji is so beloved. However, because these stronger moments are dispersed rather than sustained, the album never settles into a consistent momentum. On a 21 track album, that uneven pacing turns the first half into a long wait for the real beginning. 

Even so, flashes of undeniable charm surface throughout the album. “CAN’T SEE SH*T IN THE CLUB” feels cohesive in a way much of the record does not, committing to its controlled, minimalist production rather than chasing a dramatic climax. “Forehead Touch the Ground” and “Dior” offer brief but memorable snapshots of Joji’s quieter, more vulnerable writing.

The album’s uneven balance between restraint and release raises a larger question: what do you expect from Joji? Fans often equate longer runtimes and clear emotional crescendos with artistic value, treating tracks like “Past Won’t Leave My Bed” as proof of what Joji is capable of. Yet, the shortest pieces often feel the most spontaneous and sincere. Joji, for his part, seems uninterested in chasing impact over mood, even when that choice risks frustrating listeners who want something more concrete.

The contradictions that define Piss in the Wind are clearly intentional, but they are not consistently effective. At its strongest, the album’s fragmentation mirrors the emotional paralysis Joji explores. Moments like “LOVE YOU LESS” and “Sojourn” make instability feel purposeful, but those moments are outnumbered. More often, the same fragmentation begins to feel less deliberate and more like an avoidance of commitment. The album understands the feeling it wants to evoke, but it does not consistently trust itself enough to carry that feeling through.

In the end, Piss in the Wind is a divisive experiment — at times breathtaking, at others restrained. But it’s also Joji at his most ambitious, for better and worse. The title itself hints at futility, and in some ways, that risk feels intentional. The album simply lets the pieces fall where they may, and if you’re willing to meet it on those terms, you’ll find flashes of genius scattered everywhere.

Grade: B-