There’s a certain reluctance to emotional exposure that can be built up like a wall when first delving into an art-form that’s inherently vulnerable. Meg Shanian has effortlessly broken this wall into pieces with her debut EP skull. There’s a deep sensitivity that skull naturally exudes, allowing you to not only feel every word, but every instrumental piece as well. Across four tracks, Shanian sits within a personal space of introspection, exploring the weight of reflection, the discomfort of growing up and the ever-changing relationship we have with ourselves.
After spending much of the past year bringing her debut EP to life, Meg Shanian introduces a collection of songs that offers an intimate look into her experiences, growth and evolving sense of self throughout her time in Nashville. Featuring “skull,” “get it right,” “pond” and “left with,” each song captures a distinct piece of her journey, drawing from personal experiences and moments that have shaped who she is today. The EP was brought together with the help of Sofie Pedersen, who handled production, with final mastering by Edsel Holden. The project also features contributions from Sam Silva on bass, Pedersen on synth, clarinet, and background vocals, Martin Stricklin on electric guitar and banjo, Hal Kolodney on electric guitar and Joseph Jones on drums.
Opening with the title track, “skull,” you can feel the increasing power within each element as the song continues. The cymbal taps become harsher, the electric guitar more free and the vocals deeper in emotion, shining brightest towards the end, when Shanian beautifully lengthens the note on “under my skin,” as the instrumentals relish in their solo. Despite her velvety vocals, the lyrics have a certain spike to them, feeling sharpest when placed under an emotional microscope. There’s a slight wispy echo on the vocals, adding to the reflective, memory-like air, while every instrumental element seems to carry its own emotional weight. “I didn’t let this one get through my skull / Instead it’s in my blood that’s runnin’ cold” captures the song’s internalized nature, where something seemingly kept at a distance has instead found its way into the very fabric of her being. There’s a tender beauty within this introspective melancholy, with Shanian allowing the listener to feel the sensitivity beneath every word.


Portraits by Alexzandra Roy
“get it right” follows with an expansive, yet intimate quality to its soundscape. Warm folk guitars and banjo, atmospheric cymbals and a light jingle mirroring a bicycle bell give the track a subtle layer of somber nostalgia, evoking the trial-and-error of growing up and how getting it right is seldom guaranteed — if anything, getting it wrong is the given outcome. Shanian’s lower-register vocals sit beautifully within the emotional honesty of the space, leading into an instrumental wave that introduces the resonant texture of electric guitar, deepening the effect the organic musicality has on your heart. One of the most striking aspects of the song is its lyrical evolution:
“Peelin’ back the layers of my mind, dead-eyed / Unfamiliar danger / Becomes a friend that I’ve known all my life”
“Peelin’ back the layers of my mind, to find / Unfamiliar danger / My best friend that I no longer like.”
There’s a significant shift between the two perspectives, moving from the weighty acceptance of any detrimental mentality or even situation that you’ve become used to — almost finding a comfort in it — to sitting face to face with it and deciding you don’t want to have any part in it. It’s about rejecting the comfortability of a cycle that, despite its familiarity, is no longer something you wish to carry. The songwriting captures that difficult moment of recognizing the patterns within yourself and beginning to question whether they deserve to remain there.

“pond” introduces a steadiness, with a soft flow to Shanian’s voice that makes it feel as though it’s wading through the small waves of a pond itself. It intertwines beautifully with the wistful instrumentals, where warm plucks of banjo and the honey-like strums of electric guitar sit alongside dreamy, fluttering cymbals. There’s a storytelling quality to each musical piece, with the arrangement carrying the same gentle, reflective nature as the words themselves: “End of summer / Green grows in the pond / I know you’re gone.” The slight echoey fade of the vocals, accompanied by higher harmonies, adds another layer of wistfulness, allowing the song to drift away almost as naturally as the memories it seems to hold. There’s something particularly lovely about the steadiness here; it never feels as though it needs to reach beyond its own emotional space to make an impact.
Closing with “left with,” the guitar-driven emotion is present right from the start, with tender acoustic guitar met by the support of electric strums. There’s a certain new depth within Shanian’s voice that showcases itself in such a raw way within the lower runs, bringing an added sense of vulnerability to the track. “I’m always gettin’ caught / Leavin’ / It’s there until it’s not / Losin’ / Everything I got / Left with” feels exposed in its fragmented delivery, with each line carrying the heaviness of something being gradually stripped away. The drums, as well as the bass, build into a stronger presence, becoming the foundation of catharsis as the song progresses. Yet, rather than offering a definitive emotional resolution, both the song and EP end on a fade-out, leaving us on an exposed note that’s not quite resolved. Then again, that feels like the exact point.
Growing as a person and navigating life and its changes is never straightforward, and never comes with guaranteed resolutions. There are cycles we become accustomed to, emotions we struggle to move past and moments where getting it wrong feels almost inevitable. But there’s a certain solace to be found with the messiness of it all. Across skull, Meg Shanian encapsulates the tenderness of looking inward, the discomfort of recognizing what needs to change and the beauty of allowing yourself to sit with those feelings. Its instrumental warmth and emotional openness make for a deeply affecting listening experience, one that doesn’t attempt to tie everything together neatly. Instead, Shanian allows the uncertainty to remain, and in sharing her own personal journey, she allows us to find a little peace within our own.
Keep up with Meg Shanian:
Spotify / Apple Music / Instagram / YouTube / TikTok

