Weird Faith, Unfiltered Truths
Madi Diaz’s Weird Faith is a bold and intimate exploration of love, self-discovery, and vulnerability, where raw emotions and insecurities are laid bare through a captivating mix of indie-pop, folk, and minimalist production
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There’s a certain kind of musician who wears their heart on their sleeve, making you feel like you’re reading their diary, maybe even sneaking a peek when you’re not supposed to. With Madi Diaz, it’s almost as if she’s offering you the keys to her soul, and you’re left both entranced and a bit awkward, unsure if you should be this deep into her private thoughts. Her latest album, Weird Faith, released in February of last year, is that kind of unfiltered confession: raw, honest, and shockingly intimate. It’s an exploration of what it means to be vulnerable in love, life, and, well, everything in between. Welcome to the world of Madi Diaz, where even the most mundane moments are transformed into powerful, almost painfully relatable truths.
Let’s rewind the clock for a second. Madi Diaz’s musical journey has been anything but linear. Starting out in the pop realm with all the sparkling energy of a 2000s indie darling, she dipped her toes into country, folk, and rock before landing in her latest groove, a world where sparse piano motifs, minimalist instrumentation, and breathtakingly personal lyrics reign supreme. And thank goodness she did. Weird Faith marks the culmination of years of searching, shedding and discovering. It’s the album where Diaz sheds any pretense, embracing a more honest and stripped-back sound, yet still bringing in all those nuances that make her songs stick to your ribs.
Gone are the high-energy hooks of her earlier days. What remains is something far more nuanced and exciting. With production by the talented Sam Cohen, Diaz crafts each track with a level of detail that makes you hang on to every word, every chord. It’s a soft but confident collection that feels like a new chapter in her long journey to musical self-realization.
If there’s one thing Weird Faith proves, it’s that Madi Diaz is not afraid to get up close and personal. The opener, “Same Risk,” kicks things off with a bang, and I mean bang. «What the fuck do you want?» she asks, addressing both her lover and the listener. This is a woman who has nothing to hide, nothing to apologize for, and you can’t help but be sucked into her world. The song’s confessional tone continues throughout the album, revealing everything from Diaz’s insecurities to her most blissful moments.
But what makes Weird Faith really compelling is its relatability. Take “Get to Know Me”, a beautifully messy reflection on self-doubt and self-awareness that feels like Diaz’s soul bared for us all to see. It’s witty, sharp, and makes you think, “I’ve been there.” Sure, the line «Have you met when I’m belligerent? I might make you cry» might make you laugh out loud, but under the surface, there’s something deeply poignant about how Diaz navigates her own flaws with such honesty.
Diaz has perfected the art of making her vulnerabilities feel empowering. Her exploration of love and relationships on this album is a paradoxical balancing act: she sings of insecurity, but her self-awareness makes her sound like a woman who’s been through the ringer and come out the other side. Her self-imposed "weird faith" is a reminder that, even when things get complicated and messy, there's always room for hope - and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of chaos.
Of course, no Madi Diaz album would be complete without a few twists and turns, and Weird Faith delivers them in spades. One of the most striking tracks is “Girlfriend,” where Diaz puts aside the bitterness of past heartbreak and, in a beautiful act of self-awareness, empathizes with her partner’s ex. It’s graceful and humble in a way you don’t often hear in pop and indie music, and it’s a side of Diaz we haven’t seen before.
On tracks like “Everything Almost,” the album takes a more expansive turn, flirting with indie-pop sounds that echo the likes of Phoebe Bridgers and Julia Jacklin. It’s a poppy departure, but it still feels distinctly Diaz. “Everything Almost” tackles the push-and-pull of life’s fantasies and anxieties with a stream-of-consciousness lyricism that hooks you instantly. Diaz is trying to have it all - family, success, stability - but not without confronting the deep fears that accompany those desires. It’s a song that might leave you singing in your car with a little tear in your eye. Or maybe that’s just me?
And then there’s “Obsessive Thoughts”, a track that feels like a scream in the void, capturing Diaz’s inner turmoil and then releasing it with raw energy. The chaotic electric guitar solos are a perfect reflection of the album’s ability to tap into the moments when everything feels out of control, but the catharsis that follows is a reminder that, somehow, we all survive.
By the time we reach the album’s final track, “Obsessive Thoughts,” it’s clear that Madi Diaz has arrived at a place of both resolution and reckoning. This is an album that feels like a breakthrough in every sense. As an artist, Diaz has fully embraced her power to shape her narrative, crafting a record that’s as fearless as it is introspective. She’s stopped trying to fit into any one box, and it shows: she is finally letting her true self shine through.
With Weird Faith, Madi Diaz has stepped into her own, writing music that’s as layered as it is emotionally resonant. She’s no longer just one of the industry’s best-kept secret. She’s an artist who can open herself up to you in a way that makes you feel like you’re witnessing something both incredibly personal and universally human. What makes this album so powerful is the rawness, the honesty, and the guts to go there. And thank God she did.
