Among the slew of artists who launched their careers by uploading demos on Soundcloud is Toronto-based Shanuka, who began her journey in high school. Initially, Shanuka managed everything herself—from production to writing and recording. However, since collaborating with Toronto producers Rarely the Student and Sebastian van Wyk, she has been able to focus solely on singing and songwriting, resulting in a collection of deeply personal and genuine tracks.
Not that her earlier music lacked the emotions flooding her debut EP, A Safe Return Back. In 2019, she released “Pain,” which sampled XXXtentacion’s starkly suicidal “Jocelyn Flores” down to its cover art, exploring themes of loss and the inability to move forward. This narrative continued in her 2020 single “If you could,” where the influence of one of her early inspirations, Snoh Aalegra, is unmistakable. Now it all comes full circle on A Safe Return Back. The emotions Shanuka painstakingly dissected early in her career seem to examine her in return, ultimately finding their way back to the artist. The product is an intimate reflection of both the feelings themselves and the personality behind them.
Rooted in R&B, Shanuka describes her sound as a fusion of hip-hop, neo-soul, and jazz—genres I’d call the magic recipe for a masterpiece. A Safe Return Back showcases this sonic diversity with tracks ranging from the boom-bap funk-inspired “Do you ever wonder?” to the relaxed jazz flavor of “Hurricane.” Across all seven tracks, a blue-grey wistfulness lingers, uniting the project with a melancholic yet comforting mood that soothes even as it reeks of heartache.
The hip-hop-driven opener, “Do you ever wonder?” is paired with an official music video of Shanuka smoking and grooving in a parking lot before transitioning to party scenes with her edgy friends, setting a raw, underground tone. Yet baggy clothes and glitzy jewelry aren’t the key components of a gangster. Her soft, hypnotic voice undermines the rugged persona, hinting at the complexity of her character. “Do I live in my delusion and illusion / …Everything I say don’t make sense / But in my head it all makes sense,” she rhymes, riding the beat’s staccato rhythm. The track’s experimentation lays the foundation for Shanuka to settle into a sound that, without limiting her, channels the divine feminine energy she fully embodies on “Wicked.”
“Wicked” is intimate, bold, and enticing, featuring Shanuka in an intimately charged visual as both seducer and seduced, alongside Baton Rouge rapper Wakai. The video evokes a femme fatale narrative, with its opening clip seemingly loosely inspired by Beyoncé’s sultry “Dance For You,” if the similarity in the scene is anything to go by. The remainder of the video features candles, wine, a bathtub, well-manicured silver fingers on a camera, and a bare-skinned Wakai—I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Sonically, the song intensifies its sensuality, with Shanuka’s breathy vocals floating over a slow, atmospheric progression. It’s hazy, almost dreamlike.
The haze clears with the syncopated rhythm of “How does it feel?” where Shanuka becomes introspective, delving into themes of alienation and self-discovery. “Sometimes I lay up disconnected,” she confesses before later questioning: “They telling all that I am meant for more / Stuck in my mind I am not that sure.” The track concludes with a contemplation of the universe and a prayer for listeners to find their own “safe return back.” Still, one wonders: is Shanuka practicing what she preaches or grappling with the burden of meeting expectations? While “How Does It Feel?” lays bare Shanuka’s inner conflict and yearning for clarity, the next track explores the complexities of romantic desire in equal measure.
“Rush,” featuring fellow Toronto artist Benita, arrives with an Afrocentric, crisp bassline and a danceable beat. Soft adlibs layer Shanuka’s lush vocals, accentuating her bluesy essence. “You know I tried to be the wisest / I wanna be your ecstasy,” she sings. Underneath her resolve to prioritize self-love, there’s an acknowledgment of her vulnerable tendency to yield to the adrenaline rush of a precarious romance. This theme carries over to “Right now,” where pastel tones, booming 808s, delicate snares, and funk-tinged synths set the wistful mood. “I don’t wanna give up we built something special / I know we can talk about it find a level,” she pleads. It’s easy to infer that Shanuka’s insistence on self-discovery stems, partly, from the pain of lost love—a recurring motif in her work.
Whatever the catalyst, the destination is self-awareness. “I already know who I am,” Shanuka declares on the soft, groovy “Hurricane.” Ironically, despite its title, the track establishes an atmosphere of simplicity. Like a coffeehouse performance, it is soothing and intimate when she sings: “Loving me is harder / When I can’t even love myself / That’s why when I fall / I fall so hard,” she sings, acknowledging her weaknesses even as she embraces her growth.
The EP closes with “Show you the world,” a maximalist track combining dreamy synths, stuttering hi-hats, and distorted bass with acoustic undertones. The song’s romantic depth evokes the euphoric, superhuman feeling of being so in love that you’d give everything—including the world. It’s a pensive and tender outro, an intentional conclusion that underscores the fragility of the entire project.
What stands out most about A Safe Return Back is how Shanuka’s ever-soft voice carries a storm of melancholic emotions. This project feels less like a collection of tracks and more like pages from a diary, revealing an artist unafraid to explore her vulnerability and growth. Shanuka invites listeners on her journey of self-discovery, encouraging them to shape their understanding of her, and subtly urging them to reflect on their own paths. In so doing, she offers far more than a musical experience, but a space for connection—a safe return, not just for herself, but for anyone who listens.
