Only Justin Bieber knows why he chose to release a surprise album. But when you drop 21 tracks out of the blue, there’s no promotional buildup. No media interviews. No early critical consensus. No time to digest.
For fans and critics, it’s like drinking out of the firehose (in this case, possibly, to cure Bieber fever). But Bieber fever has long been lowered. In recent years, Bieber’s public image has taken a beating from erratic behavior, emotional instability, social media missteps and career decisions that some see as reactive rather than intentional.
The 31-year-old Bieber is a man in crisis, but not musically so. Although not always cohesive, his seventh album, SWAG, sounds all in. Bieber is reminding us of the little boy who knew his way around a drumset, guitar or piano: That’s his soul. And in SWAG, lyrical strengths are coated by Bieber’s real struggles, among them his ups and downs with his wife, Hailey.
In “WALKING AWAY,” Bieber talks about relationship strain and renewal:
“Baby, I ain’t walking away / You were my diamond / Gave you a ring / I made you a promise / I told you I’d change… These growing pains / And baby, I ain’t walking away.”
Take this from “SENSITIVITY:”
“The symptoms of my sensitivity / Feels personal when no one’s listening.”
And on “THERAPY SESSION,” he doesn’t sing; he confesses:
“I think that’s been a tough thing for me recently … feeling like I’ve had to go through a lot of my struggles as a human really publicly. People are always asking if I’m OK. That starts to really weigh on me.”
It’s solid writing and the production is catchy. Collaborators include Dijon, Druski and Gunna – more niche names that instantly set a different tone than Chance the Rapper, Khalid and Kid LAROI from Justice in 2021.
Druski is a prominent voice, offering what seems like therapy-adjacent commentary in several interludes. In “SOULFUL,” he tells Bieber:
“You sound Black … I can hear the soul. And your soul is Black. Your skin [is] white. But your soul is Black.”
Justin giggles — tee-hee-hee — but the moment is uncomfortable. Not just because it flirts with racial caricature, but because we’ve been here before. Think back to the jarring Martin Luther King Jr. interlude on Justice, placed awkwardly before a love song to Hailey. Bieber’s attempt at portraying Blackness often feels like a concept he can’t quite grasp — well-intentioned, but ultimately tone-deaf.
Like Bieber, SWAG isn’t giving clean messaging. It’s messy, late-night music. The beats are infectious and hazy, like they were birthed in a studio thick with smoke and emotion. There’s no big pop anthem — no “Sorry,” no “Baby.” This isn’t Purpose (and it’s not trying to be). It’s mood music for people who feel just as lost as he sounds. And as unexpectedly as the album drop, it works.
The highlight? The intention. Bieber is doing something here. Whether it’s an homage to Michael Jackson (check the vocal hiccups in the album opener “ALL I CAN TAKE”) or an internal reckoning about fame, he’s going for honesty.
As a Belieber since before the purple hoodie days — and someone who proudly saw Never Say Never at Cinemark Western Hills back in the early 2010s — this release hit me in the chest. Because it reminds us: Bieber is still trying, still performing and still reaching.
And while SWAG might not be perfect, polished or clear-headed, it’s proof that Bieber isn’t finished. He’s documenting the crash. The resilience? That (hopefully) comes next.
More music may be on the way, according to Billboard. Until then, we’re left with a musician who’s imperfect but still standing on business.
This article appears in Jul 9-22, 2025.