'Slowly, It Dawns': The story of Victora Canal

Victoria Canal's 'Slowly, It Dawns' is existential, romantic, euphoric and devastating. She is able to portray the entire spectrum of human emotion in this 12-track run and is an exceptionally interesting and immersive listen.

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No time is wasted as we jump into the sound that will guide us through Victoria's soul. 'June Baby' is an upbeat tale, an introduction to Chapter 1 in the story of love. This is a sweet portrayal of the first romantic moments experienced and explored together as feelings begin to develop. The bridge feels like a culmination of every feeling and sensation bubbling to the surface, where there is almost a point of self consciousness rising up, through the deep impact of meeting this individual. Romance can leave you in a sincerely vulnerable place, truly exposed to the potential of hurt that we cannot predict if, how or when it will show its face. Lyrics like 'It’s your voice in the dark (Unless you mean it) / Are you pulling away / From the weight of my heart? (Don’t hurt my feelings)' explore the summer whirlwind romance and reaching the crossroads of diving into something more serious or staying playful and at surface level. The track balances excitement and aprehension, portraying these first stages of connection so brilliantly.

It feels as though she’s navigating a summer whirlwind romance, reaching the crossroads of whether to dive entirely into something more serious or remain in a lighthearted, playful place. Canal brilliantly captures the exciting yet enitely daunting feeling of this.

Victoria takes these initial feelings and multiplies them tenfold in 'Talk'. The guitars introducing us to the track feels comparably more sultry to the sound in June Baby, as does her vocals. There's a yearning present, wishing to always be around someone, but depicting how emotions can become more conflicted as this connection progresses past the Honeymoon stage at the begining of knowing someone. The lyrics, like 'I want you here in front of me, here / I crave you, ooh-ooh-ooh / Got your soul within my reach' exposes a real surge of ecstasy in her feelings here, wanting every part of someone. The usage of craving signifies a state of rapture in this relationship, a need for somebody. While the lyrics are repetitive and simple in nature, it reinforces the idea of a built up desire, fully falling into lust.

The placement of 'California Sober', following the opening run of tracks makes your ears prick up as we witness an interesting change in the sonic direction. This is an anthem of queer sexual freedom, and fosters honesty in leaning into your desires, taking down the mask for the night and opening up so that the portrayal of yourself outwardly matches who you are inside. It provides a turning point in the narrative, as it leans further into the more sensual side of Victoria's artistry and removes the layers of self consciousness; too much thinking and holding back from being truly at one with your own body.

Canal shared on Instagram after its release that the song was a 'trust fall... Exploring my love of pop, openly embracing my queer journey & sensuality', also adding that her music can be 'cathartic to be deep but its also cathartic to be FUN', and this feels so poignant. Canal is clearly so comfortable in her art and each track, whether dealing with more heavier topics, or letting loose on tracks like this, feels like an extension of her true self. Here, lyrics like 'Savour it, bathe in it / For as long as you can take it, baby / Beg for it, lay in it' are laced with liberation and heat.

'Cake' is an apt addition to this sentiment, but with a nihilistic twist. The chorus feels dramatic against the cinematic backdrop that the song's production provides and lyrics like 'Let me taste, that beautiful nothing I wanna bury the weight, and fix it for now' feel scathing. The red lights and sweaty crowds of the night before have now faded away into harsh fluorescents and the restless search for company in keeping the party going, to drown out the thoughts that creep in when you are left to sit in the discomfort of silence for a second too long. '15%' crashes the high of the last two tracks, as doubt creeps in and your actions catch up with you. This is the musical embodiment of existential hangxiety at the heights of its effects. Lines like 'Blacked out and knocked out this evening / Slowly, it dawns, I’m a pain in the ass / Is everyone happy I’m leaving?' show the album's title in full context, letting out the creeping doubt about identity and exploring unsettling fear of how the world perceives who you have become.

Victoria’s storytelling ability makes this narrative deeply immersive, capturing every side of a person’s lived experience, whether it is loneliness, self-doubt, or the urge to escape. 'Vauxhall' speaks out from the heart of this record, feeling like a conclusion of the tracks that came before. The build up on this track is reminiscent of Phoebe Bridgers' 'I Know The End', which not many can achieve - its expressive in its plea for answers, are problems an inevitability in the life we live, can we ever really escape the? The intensity of the repeated 'I wish I had a choice' rounds out the track without closure, we feel a void as we sit with these same unresolved, unanswered feelings.

The second half of Slowly, It Dawns provides endless opportunity for Victoria's lyricism to demand the spotlight. As we drift through the lighter, more mellow yet melancholic sounds of 'How Can I Be A Person?' and 'Totally Fucking Fine', we see a side of Victoria that allows introspection and self-awareness in the aftermath of chaos. In the wake of messiness, the instrumental ending for the latter track following the line 'I'm Totally Fucking Fine', creates a space, where we can see the unfolding and reworking of Canal's thoughts over and over again. This moment creates a true highlight of the album.

Photograph via Martina Matencio

There is a powerful presence waiting for you at the finale of this story. Sister tracks 'Black Swan' and 'swan song' rounds out the album, and Victoria's final thoughts beautifully. Victoria is able to perfectly convey the feeling of unworthiness, forever seeking to be something you deem as better, and shake yourself free from the dissatifcation of this unfulfiled time in life.

It is unflinchingly honest in Canal's experiences, cutting through any facade of putting on a brave face.

We are guided to a space of contemplation as we ease into swan song. Despite all that we face, something we are guaranteed is finite time. Victoria provides herself with the lack of closure that has loomed over this album, that you can always turn things around. The chorus, with lines like 'Who knows how long we got? / As long as I'm breathing, I / Know it's not too late to love', is a candid reminder of the unavoidable loss and grief we are all bound to endure, and even in our darkest moments, we have the power to choose light and fight to love the people who matter most while we are here to. Though life often feels like there’s no time for everything in our schedule's, there’s always time to reach out and hold the people close to us. After all, what is the point if we don’t?

Victoria Canal has allowed this album to encapsulate every part of the human experience, with each track building upon the last to create a layered narrative that not only invites, but holds a mirror up to the listener, urging them to face the light and dark within themselves. This is a collection of songs that tackles the uncomfortable feelings often kept under the surface, but concludes with the reminder of connection as our serving point and what makes us not to just survive, but to truly live.