Samara Cyn doesn’t need to shout to be heard. On her latest EP Backroads, she lets subtlety do the heavy lifting — trading conceptual density for emotional fluency, and finding new lightness without losing her sense of self. Clocking in at five tracks, Backroads feels less like a major statement and more like a breath of fresh air — the kind you only get when you leave the city, roll down the windows, and hit the road with no fixed destination.
Where The Drive Home was structured and stormy, Backroads drifts with purpose. It’s not that Cyn has lost focus — if anything, her songwriting is sharper, freer, more conversational — but she’s clearly allowing herself more room to loosen up. And nowhere is that more evident than in the opening track “Summer’s Turning,” a two-part suite that sets the tone with warmth, then veers into something moodier and more introspective. It’s the kind of track that reminds you growth doesn’t always come with fanfare — sometimes it’s in the pauses, the pivots, the small decisions to keep going.
There’s still grit here. “Bad Brain” is a standout — disarmingly direct, the kind of song that reads like a diary entry you accidentally published and then decided to leave up anyway. “Pop n Olive,” with Sherwyn, brings the bounce, showing Cyn can flirt with playful production without sacrificing lyrical honesty. And then there’s “Brand New Teeth” featuring Smino — a track that meshes perfectly with both artists’ laid-back cool, their verses weaving around each other like two friends finishing each other’s stories mid-sentence.
Cyn has always been generous with her honesty, but on Backroads, that generosity feels even more intentional. She doesn’t chase perfection — she chases connection. And as she told Rolling Stone, the goal this time around was to make something that feels good, without losing what’s real. Mission accomplished. These are songs built for quiet late-night drives, messy conversations, and the in-between spaces where healing and harm tend to sit next to each other.
If The Drive Home introduced us to Cyn’s cerebral, heart-on-her-sleeve approach, then Backroads lets her be in motion — unguarded, reflective, a little lighter but no less sincere. It’s the kind of project that doesn’t just expand her catalog — it expands her range. And in a landscape where too many artists are afraid to slow down, Cyn proves again that vulnerability isn’t just a strength. It’s a sound.