On my first play, Hurt opened itself up slowly. The production work is polished but unfussy, mostly focused on giving Sabrina Lee the space to deliver her vocal... gentle guitar strums, light percussive elements. And the vocal starts with a timidity that only grows in stature as the song builds, Lee hitting her stride with a chorus that doesn’t so much soar as drives with strength - it is a sharp point hit with force in order to puncture your defences and make you feel what she feels.
It is in the repeated refrain of the chorus that Hurt really come to life... There is something about the way Lee repeats the simple line like a personal mantra that gives it its own gravity:
“Sometimes I get hurt, I get hurt just a little bit;
I might make it worse, make it worse overthinking it;
And sometimes I get, I get hurt all by myself.”
It is here where the production really shines - a simple distorted bass line underlines the vocal to grant it the emotional significance it earns through repetition. Finally the song closes with Lee repeating the lines one more time, the instrumentation hushed, as she reflects on the significance of her own capacity to hurt herself.
I suffer from anxiety. The lyrics in Hurt struck a chord with me that I wasn’t expecting: I went through the experience Lee depicts here a few years ago, recognising that often the thoughts in my head are worse than the reality. In the face of uncertainty, I will sometimes overthink things and construct a destabilising narrative that takes an eraser to my guide ropes and my safety net and before I know it, I’m left clinging to a sheer rock face, alone... And I’ve constructed it all myself: the negative thoughts, the rock face, the feeling of gravity.
Sabrina Lee is a 17-year old Korean-American musician born in Virginia. She wrote and co-produced Hurt herself.