Nearly a decade removed from her 2017 debut Late Bloomer and its breakout hit “Naked,” songwriter MALIA has come a long way—both creatively and in her personal life. Even though her new EP If I’m Being Honest sees her re-teaming with producer Nick Green for the first time since that debut album was released, these six tracks feel uniquely at-ease, which is well reflected in MALIA’s lyrics about self-growth, self-awareness, self-trust, and, ultimately, self-worth. “There’s a line in the song [‘Masquerade’], ‘If I ran away, where would I run to?’ and that question became the heart of the record for me,” the artist shares. “Because ultimately, I’ve learned that ‘discomfort is often the doorway to growth,’ and that even when I’m scared or uncertain, I have to keep swimming forward instead of sitting on the sidelines of my own life.”
Meanwhile none of these tracks will necessarily get the listeners’ heart rate going, yet that doesn’t necessarily mean that the EP lacks a sense of intimacy. Instead, MALIA strove to explore a less tactile lane of R&B, a traditionally passionate—if not explicit—genre of pop music that rarely leaves room for reflection. “I think people sometimes reduce sensual music to being purely physical,” MALIA explains, “but the deeper message of this record is about the kind of closeness that only exists when you genuinely feel safe enough to be fully seen.”
With the EP out now, check out MALIA’s full track-by-track breakdown of the project below.
1. “Not a Love Song”
“Not a Love Song” explores the reality that some people come into our lives for a season to mirror parts of ourselves, teach us lessons, and help us grow before life naturally pulls us in different directions. Rather than framing love as failure or heartbreak, the song sits in the bittersweet acceptance that sometimes two people simply outgrow the version of themselves they once shared together.
2. “Masquerade”
“Masquerade” came from a very honest place for me. I go through seasons where I feel really grounded in my journey, my faith feels strong, and I trust where life is taking me. And then there are moments where everything suddenly feels overwhelming, like my dreams are impossibly far away, and I start questioning whether I even have what it takes to keep going. Sometimes it feels easier to disappear for a while, to stay home, shut out the noise, and hide behind the version of myself that feels safest. That’s really what “Masquerade” is about to me: “The masks we create to survive the moments where we’ve forgotten how powerful we really are.”
The song lives in that tension between wanting to run away and knowing deep down that growth only happens when we keep showing up for our lives anyway. I think a lot of people know that feeling: wanting peace so badly that you fantasize about escaping everything, only to realize you still have to face yourself wherever you go. There’s a line in the song, “If I ran away, where would I run to?” and that question became the heart of the record for me. Because ultimately, I’ve learned that “discomfort is often the doorway to growth,” and that even when I’m scared or uncertain, I have to keep swimming forward instead of sitting on the sidelines of my own life.
3. “Touch”
“Touch” plays in the tension between sensuality and emotional intimacy. It can easily be heard as a sex song, but for me it’s really about the vulnerability that exists underneath physical connection. When we wrote it, I was almost trying to manifest the experience I describe in the record, a connection rooted in trust, chemistry, emotional safety, and intention. I’m a naturally private and selective person, so writing about intimacy has to come from a real place. The song isn’t about casual desire as much as it’s about discernment and understanding the difference between attraction and true alignment. There’s confidence and seduction in the lyrics, but also softness, trust, and surrender. That’s what makes “Touch” feel honest to me.
4. “Getaway Driver”
“Getaway Driver” comes from a period in my life where I’m learning what it really means to trust myself. The song reflects the tension that can exist during personal growth—the loneliness, the uncertainty, the quiet rebuilding that often happens behind the scenes. For a long time, I think I looked outside of myself for direction, reassurance, or safety, but writing this song becomes a reminder that I’m the one holding the keys. I’m reclaiming the wheel of my life and choosing to move through the world from a place of self-trust instead of fear.
At its core, the song is about sovereignty and creating safety within my own body, listening to my instincts, and knowing I can withstand whatever life brings. Growth isn’t always glamorous; sometimes it’s sitting alone with yourself long enough to hear your own internal voice clearly again. I’ve always been independent, but “Getaway Driver” reflects a deeper kind of resilience, learning that solitude can become a source of strength rather than isolation. What may sound like an escape song on the surface is really about coming home to myself, trusting the divine, and realizing that no one else can ultimately drive my life for me
5. “Shallow”
“Shallow” came from me questioning my own patterns in love and being honest about the things we’re sometimes afraid to admit out loud. I used the word “shallow” almost ironically, it’s provocative on purpose, because the song lives in that tension between chemistry, standards, self-worth, and emotional depth. I take care of myself physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, and I’m naturally drawn to somebody who values those things, too. Wanting to be deeply attracted to your partner isn’t shallow to me, it’s part of connection, compatibility, and intimacy. It only becomes shallow when attraction is the only thing holding a relationship together. Chemistry without emotional safety, consistency, or depth don’t last.
This song came from recognizing that love alone is not enough. You can deeply care for someone and still realize there’s inconsistency, emotional unavailability, or a lack of alignment in the way you move through life together. I’ve learned that emotional safety and mutual effort matter just as much as passion does. One without the other eventually leaves you feeling lonely, even if a couple big boxes are checked. “Shallow” is me being dangerously self-aware, pushing my own boundaries, and accepting that walking away from inconsistency or emotional unavailability doesn’t make me cold, it means I finally value myself enough to want the full picture.
6. “Party”
“Party” is my version of a turn-up. I’ve never really been drawn to crowded bars or loud rooms, so this song celebrates a different kind of connection, the kind that happens in quiet spaces, behind closed doors, with the right person. It’s playful and nostalgic on the surface, with Mario Kart, Twister, forts in the living room, and ginger pineapple juice instead of cocktails—but underneath it, the song is really about intimacy in its simplest form. For me, romance isn’t about constant stimulation or performing excitement. It’s about being able to stay present with someone when nothing big is happening at all.
I wanted “Party” to feel like an invitation into a softer kind of closeness, one where silence doesn’t feel awkward, it feels safe. Where staying in becomes its own little world, and ordinary moments feel special because of who you’re sharing them with. There’s also something quietly nonconformist about making your own version of fun. It’s for the introverts, the homebodies, the people who crave depth over spectacle and creating joy on your own terms instead of chasing whatever the outside world says a party should look like. It’s cozy, flirtatious, a little cheeky, and ultimately rooted in comfort, trust, and emotional ease.
