Pulse: Syd explores love and heartbreak in ‘Broken Hearts Club’

Published Nov. 3, 2024, 11:40 p.m., last updated Nov. 3, 2024, 11:40 p.m.

In “Pulse,” columnist Madisyn Cunningham ’27 reviews albums that spotlight the Black Queer experience.

For close to a decade, The Internet dominated R&B fans’ playlists. Their 2015 record “Ego Death” is perhaps their most popular — with hits like “Girl (feat. KAYTRANADA)” and “Get Away,” its acclaim was inevitable. The album shot to No. 3 on Billboard’s R&B Albums chart, and even received a Grammy nomination. Their fourth and last project, “Hive Mind,” came out in 2018, and while they haven’t officially disbanded yet, its members (which include the likes of Steve Lacy) seem focused on their respective solo careers.

The Internet’s only female member is Syd, formerly known as Syd Tha Kyd. The 32-year-old singer was the face of the group, singing and writing most of their highest regarded hits. She sings with a gentle, suave tone that one might not expect given her more masc presentation. Her songs, mostly about love, feed off of this softness.

Released in April of 2022, “Broken Hearts Club” is the singer’s second solo album, and if there was any fear about a sophomore slump, she dispelled it immediately. “Broken Hearts Club” is a dynamic record filled with reminders of the high highs and low lows of love — and its often fleeting nature. Syd is able to seamlessly transition from songs about bitter breakups to ones about the childlike giddiness of finding a new connection, taking listeners down a journey that mimics a real relationship. 

I attended the “Broken Hearts Club” tour in 2022, mere weeks after my first breakup. The show was at a small venue in Brooklyn, and despite it being my first solo concert, I immediately felt comforted by the other Black and queer concertgoers waiting to get inside. I managed to push my way up to the second row of the pit, and sat through an amazing opening number by Destin Conrad, another queer R&B gem.

As Syd took the stage and the crowd went wild, she announced she was a new member of the “broken hearts club.” I vividly remember feeling called to answer back — to tell her that I was too. If I remember correctly, she began her set with “Missing Out,” the last track on the record. It’s a bittersweet song; one that reflects on the pain of a sudden breakup while also reaffirming the artist’s love for herself, claiming that her ex is now missing out on who she will become — a message that 16-year-old me desperately needed to hear. As she moved through the set, she switched between sipping water and whiskey, and yet, her vocals never faltered once. I was fully aboard Syd’s rollercoaster of sensuality, captivated throughout the hour I spent with her.

Syd’s place in the music industry is a special one. When most think of influential lesbian artists, their minds might jump to a very white place, listing artists like Chappell Roan or Clairo (I am, admittedly, a huge fan of both of these artists). Too rarely, however, are the Black pioneers of the lesbian music space credited, and Syd is a perfect place to start doing so. Her existence as a masculine-presenting woman singing about love with women — and especially the tenderness associated with it — is unique and should be highlighted; her lyrics are some of the few that I see myself in completely. It feels as though Syd loves and grieves in the same way I do.

“Control,” the sixth track on “Broken Hearts Club,” has a message that I relate to deeply. Syd sings about the full body experience of being captivated by love, and the willingness to be controlled and consumed by it. I love songs that not only highlight the love the artist has for a person, but also the love they have for love itself. The cover art of this album — a beautiful scene of a garden amidst a cotton candy sky, with Syd standing in front of a floating, shattered heart — depicts what love feels like to me, and presumably to Syd. Love is not just a feeling or an action, but a place to be transported to. “Broken Hearts Club” reminds me of the privilege it is to be there, even if it opens us up to the most bitter heartbreak.

I am in a happy relationship now, and when I listen to this record two years after its release, I listen in a completely different way than I did in 2022. It takes a special artist to be able to make listeners feel every emotion in the three minutes it takes to sing a song, and she does it perfectly. Even in the songs about breakups, I am struck by Syd’s ability to capture how special it is to love someone.

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.

Madisyn Cunningham ’27 is a Vol. 266 Arts & Life Columnist. She is from New York, NY and studies English and Communications while playing on Stanford’s Women’s Rugby team.

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