Tender, Weird, and Compassionate Reflections
On her latest album, Oh My God – That’s So Me, Norwegian-American songwriter Kaya Wilkins (a.k.a. Okay Kaya) continues her knack for turning complex emotions into quirky, compassionate vignettes. Expanding on the detached but wry commentary seen in her previous works, Oh My God delves into contemporary states of distraction and detachment, reframing Greek myths and common experiences with a deeply human touch.
The album opens with “Picture This,” where Wilkins asks listeners to imagine themselves as “Sisyphus as a health-nut geologist,” humorously portraying a man’s futile attempts to control his fate—this time, from the perspective of the rock he’s pushing. With clever lyrics like, “You want to be like your daddy, a rolling stone, gain some speed and lose control,” Wilkins doesn’t force the humor but lets it simmer beneath languid, dreamy instrumentation, evoking the airy cool of Moon Safari.
If Camus urged us to imagine Sisyphus happy, Wilkins’ take is tinged with absurdity, as if happiness might be a delusion. This sense of human struggle is threaded through much of Oh My God – That’s So Me. In “The Art of Poetry,” Wilkins riffs on the banal impulse to project oneself onto nature, encapsulated in the title phrase: Oh my god, that’s so me. The repetition feels both reflective and a little disconcerting, underscoring how disconnected we’ve become from the world around us.
Recorded on an island off Oslo only accessible by boat, the album emerges from a space of physical detachment, but its lyrical compassion shines through. Rather than suspending biting commentary in mid-air like on previous albums, Wilkins here embraces a softer focus. “The Groke” is a standout, where she conjures a mythic creature—either a SAD selkie or a representation of climate anxiety—set to a groovy, Miles Davis-inspired woodwind melody. The playful but foreboding atmosphere recalls the inventive spirit of U.S. Girls, while highlighting the fragility of humanity’s relationship with the environment.
Not all tracks are drenched in darkness, though. Songs like “Check Your Face” brim with disco-tinged humor. In this playful take on self-awareness, Wilkins romances the concept of common sense, while her smooth basslines and sultry vocals suggest she might not fully grasp the object of her affection. The quirkier “Oh Minutiae” turns attention to small, mundane wonders like seaweed and snowflakes, celebrating the beauty in the overlooked details of everyday life.
The album’s warmth and wit come across more gently than her previous work, even as it tackles existential themes. On tracks like “The Wannabe,” Wilkins’ sensual bluesy neo-soul craves a return to basic human feeling: “I’m not a sculpture… let me back into my body again.” Songs like “Help, I’ve Been Put Into Context!” layer clever, self-aware lyrics over tactile, textural arrangements, balancing soul-funk with quirky sound design to capture the disorienting experience of being misinterpreted.
Yet, lurking beneath the softness is the constant threat of destruction. “My Berenice” tells a tale of love turned sour, slowly unraveling into hysteria, while “And I Have a Blessed Life” pairs grateful incantations with seismic, trembling bass, juxtaposing dread with hopeful exuberance. Wilkins’ cover of Shirley Collins’ “Space Girl” brings a foreboding edge, with shrieking vocals warning of the perils of technology.
Throughout Oh My God – That’s So Me, Wilkins balances light-heartedness and gravity with deft precision. The title itself—both a meme and a genuine exclamation—perfectly encapsulates her commentary on modern life: amused, but ever aware of the deeper truths beneath the surface. Like the Sisyphus she reimagines, she builds her music knowing the rock will inevitably fall, but finding joy in the act of creation.
