THE WORKS
01 · THE END OF THE BEGINNING · 2019
02 · THE DEVILS AND THE ANGELS · 2022
03 · SIMP EP · 2023
04 · PURPLE HEARTS · 2025
05 · TO PIMP A BADDIE · COMING SOON
06 · WOLVES · COMING SOON
The End of the Beginning
Every artist has a before and an after. For Sidi, the line is 2019.
That was the year he lost his mother, and the year he started making music. Those two facts are not separate. Before the studio, there were WhatsApp chats full of poetry, verses sent into the void with nowhere to go, a young man writing because he had to, not because anyone was listening. When he finally started recording, he didn't clean any of it up. No polish, no industry gloss, no sanding down the edges to make it palatable. The End of the Beginning is raw on purpose. It had to be. Anything polished would have been a lie about where he was.
The title is literal, and it's the best title he's ever given a project. It's the end of who he was before music and the beginning of who he's still becoming. Not a debut in the industry sense, a debut in the human sense: the moment a person finds the thing that can hold what they're feeling.
The closing track, "Swimming Pool Thoughts," ends with his mother's voice, recorded before she passed. He put her at the end of the beginning on purpose, a dedication and a threshold in one. You can hear, in that choice, everything about how Sidi understands music: not as product but as container, not as performance but as preservation. Some artists make their first project trying to sound like someone. Sidi made his first project trying to sound like himself, and then kept the tape rolling.
Everything since has been a continuation of that conversation. The duality, the love songs, the numbered hearts, the wolves, all of it grows out of the ground broken here. Go back and listen with everything you know now, and you can hear the whole career in embryo: the introspection, the honesty, the refusal to look away. The beginning never really ended. That's the point.
There's a temptation with first projects to treat them as juvenilia, rough drafts for the real work. Resist it here. The rawness of The End of the Beginning isn't a limitation Sidi later outgrew, it's a standard he set. Every project since has been measured against the honesty of this one. When he numbered the Purple Hearts tracks instead of titling them, that was the same instinct: don't dress it up, let it be what it is. For new listeners, this is the best place to understand the artist, not because it's the best sounding record but because it's the most revealing one.
The Devils and the Angels EP (March 7, 2022)
Ten songs about the war inside a person.
Featured track: "We All Die"
On The Devils and the Angels, Sidi stopped pretending he was only one thing. Every person contains opposing forces, and most of us spend our lives managing the contradiction quietly, performing wholeness. Sidi decided to put the contradiction on record instead. The angel that wants to be better. The devil that keeps pulling him back. Discipline and desire. Faith and doubt. Generosity and selfishness. The version of himself he's proud of and the version he's still working on, sharing ten songs.
It's a duality record in the truest sense. Not good versus evil as a cartoon, not a costume drama, but the real, daily negotiation between who you are and who you're trying to be. Anyone who has ever wanted two incompatible things at the same time will recognize themselves here. That's most of us, which is why the project lands.
In the arc of Sidi's catalog, this is the chapter where the conversation with himself gets honest about the fact that there are two voices in the room. The End of the Beginning was raw confession, one voice, unfiltered. Here the voice splits, and Sidi doesn't rush to resolve it. He lets both sides speak. Naming the devil doesn't banish it, but it does take away its favorite weapon, which was secrecy. There's maturity in that, the kind you can't fake. You can hear an artist learning that self-knowledge isn't about defeating the dark parts. It's about knowing they're there and choosing anyway.
The production era matters too. This was Sidi finding his footing as a recording artist, moving from the unmixed honesty of his first project into something more deliberate without losing the rawness. Ten tracks gave him room to stretch, to try different angles on the same theme, to let the duality play out across moods instead of just stating it. Some songs lean toward the light, some toward the dark, and the sequencing is the argument: you need both to see the whole person.
For listeners coming to Sidi fresh, this EP is the key to his method. He doesn't write about who he is. He writes about the argument inside who he is. Every project since has been a different room in the same house, but this is where he built the house: two voices, one person, no easy resolution, and the courage to let both be heard.
Simp EP (February 3, 2023, TFIG MUSIK)
Seven songs. Twenty-two minutes. Not a single guard up.
The title is doing what Sidi's titles always do: daring you to misunderstand it. "Simp" gets thrown around as an insult, shorthand for a man who loves too much, wants too openly, feels too visibly. Sidi took the insult and made it the thesis. What if loving openly isn't weakness? What if it's the bravest thing on the record?
This is Sidi at his most romantically exposed. Obsession, devotion, attachment, the specific ache of wanting someone completely and knowing exactly how it looks from the outside, and doing it anyway. There's no irony here, no protective distance, no pretending he doesn't care. Every song is all in. In an era when vulnerability gets filtered through memes and detachment, Simp is startlingly sincere, and that sincerity is why it still hits.
The features read like a group chat of accomplices, each one brought in because they understood the assignment. Keni Lavs on the opener "Suh Different." Perry Baller on "Obsessed." Amsif yf on "Bad Gurl." Wispy Rogi on "Me Nd You." Barathi and Nanthe sharing "Mine." And Bleunk on the closing "Fly Away," a song Sidi has described as personally important, the kind of collaboration that feels less like a feature and more like a witness.
Simp arrived a year after The Devils and the Angels, and you can hear the turn. Where that EP studied the war inside himself, Simp turns the attention outward toward another person for the first time in his catalog. It's the pivot point of the whole story: self, then duality, then intimacy. Everything after, every love song he's written since, grows out of the permission this project gave him.
There's also something quietly radical about the timing. Simp came out when the dominant posture in music, especially for young men, was detachment: care less, feel less, never let them see it. Sidi went the other way, all the way. He made a record about caring too much and put the insult people use for that right on the cover. That's not naivety, it's a decision. And it's the decision his whole catalog rests on. Every honest thing he's written since starts here: feel it all, say it plain.
Purple Hearts (October 2, 2025, TFIG MUSIK)
Ten songs. Twenty-four minutes. Not a single title.
When Sidi released Purple Hearts, he did something almost no artist does: he numbered the tracks instead of naming them. Purple Hearts 01 through 10. No titles, no hints, no labels telling you what to feel before the first note plays. He explained the idea himself: he wanted listeners to meet the music raw and without labels, to connect with it the way you connect with a person before you know their name. In an era where every song arrives pre-explained by its title, its cover, its rollout, Purple Hearts asks you to just listen.
What you hear, across twenty-four dense minutes, is the most emotionally crowded room Sidi has ever built. Love and ego. Insecurity and self-worth. Tenderness and pride, sometimes inside the same verse. Every song is a different angle on the same underlying question: what does it cost to love someone when you're still learning how to love yourself? Nothing here resolves neatly, and that's honest. Feelings don't resolve neatly.
The brevity is the point. Twenty-four minutes doesn't give you time to get comfortable, and Sidi doesn't want you comfortable. He wants you inside it, all of it, at once, the way emotions actually arrive, not one at a time but all together, contradicting each other. It's a project that trusts the listener completely: no hand-holding, no titles, no explanations. Just the work.
And the numbers turned out to be a gift to the listener. Without titles, there's no wrong way in. Track 04 might be someone's heartbreak song and someone else's 2 a.m. anthem, and both are right. Sidi removed the signposts and discovered that people don't get lost, they get closer. It's the most trusting thing an artist can do: believe the audience will find their own way through your feelings. They did.
Sidi once planned a magazine to accompany the project, something to hold the world of it. The magazine never came out. Listening to Purple Hearts, you understand why it didn't need to. The music was already the magazine: ten pages, no words on the cover, everything that matters on the inside.
Coming after the romantic surrender of the Simp EP, Purple Hearts is what happens when love gets complicated by the self. Simp was about wanting someone. Purple Hearts is about what wanting someone does to you: the ego it bruises, the insecurities it finds, the worth it forces you to measure. It's the same heart, two years later, with more to lose and more to understand.
To Pimp a Baddie (Coming Soon)
Say the title out loud and watch what happens to the room. To Pimp a Baddie. It lands like a provocation because it is one. Sidi chose it knowing exactly what the word carries, control, exploitation, everything ugly the music industry has ever done to women, and he chose it anyway. Because the project underneath is the opposite of what the title threatens. That's the whole game. The contradiction is the point.
"Pimp" here doesn't mean what it has always meant. Sidi is using it as a metaphor for elevation. To pimp a baddie, in the world of this project, is to take everything that's already inside her and bring it into the light: her beauty, her confidence, her sexuality, her ambition, her softness, her pride, her style, her femininity, her sense of worth. Not to give her power. To celebrate the power she walked in with.
Because she was already a baddie before he showed up. This is the second layer, and it's the one that changes everything. The project isn't about making her into something. She is already everything. The narrator is simply the man standing next to her, fascinated by her, attracted to her, proud of her, sometimes quietly intimidated by her, and completely invested in becoming worthy of her. He wants to love her loudly. He wants to show her off, spoil her, understand her, build with her. The machismo is the costume. Underneath it is a man asking the hardest question a man can ask: am I becoming someone she deserves?
That tension is where every song on the project lives. On the surface: I'm gonna pimp my baddie. Underneath: I love this woman so much she's making me examine myself.
The emotional world runs deep. There's desire, real and unashamed, but it's desire inside intimacy, not desire instead of it. There's admiration that goes beyond wanting: he looks at her the way you look at art, pride in just being near it. There's a genuine lover-boy streak, long distance longing, devotion, the quiet fantasy of a future, a home, a name shared. And then there's the vulnerability that gives the whole thing its weight, because beneath the confidence is a man who isn't always sure how she sees him, who wonders what she tells her friends about him, who is doing the work to become better and hoping it's enough.
Love, in this project, is restorative. It heals. Not in a naive way, in the way that being truly seen by someone can rearrange you. And the woman at the center is never reduced to one thing. She is allowed to be all of it at once: beautiful and intelligent, sexual and soft, culturally rooted and globally minded, desired and deeply human, independent and still wanting to be loved properly. The project refuses to split her into pieces. She walks into the room looking untouchable, and the songs let you meet the person behind the image.
That's what "baddie" means here. Not a hot girl. A woman who knows, or is learning, that she has value. And a man brave enough to say so out loud, and then brave enough to admit what her value is teaching him about his own.
Some of the most important moments on the project aren't about her at all. They're about him. What kind of man do I want to be beside this woman? What do I need to outgrow? What am I still carrying? Loving her becomes a mirror, and the mirror doesn't flatter. That is the coming-of-age inside the love story: attraction was the door, self-confrontation is the house.
There are stakes beyond the moment, too. This isn't a situationship record. Marriage, commitment, building something that lasts, these aren't fantasies here, they're the point. The future gives every love song on the project its gravity.
To Pimp a Baddie is about connection with another person: who she is, why he wants her, how he loves her, what she brings out of him. Desire, intimacy, vulnerability. You meet the relationship first, and you meet it completely.
Wolves (Coming Soon)
Wolves is an awareness project in development.
Now comes the reckoning with the self.
Wolves is the inward chapter. No audience, no romance, no performance. Just Sidi and the person he's becoming when nobody else is in the room defining him.
The wolf is not a mascot and it's not a threat. It's a way of moving through the world. Watch a wolf and what you see isn't aggression, it's attention. Patience. Instinct. The refusal to be fooled, including by yourself. That's the energy Sidi is working with: observation as a discipline, self-knowledge as survival. The project asks the questions that only get asked in silence. Who am I when I'm not performing for anyone? What do I actually want, underneath what I've been taught to want? What am I still pretending not to know about myself?
The world of the project has its own ecology. The sheep is vulnerability, comfort, the safety of the flock, everything in us that wants to belong even when belonging costs us ourselves. The wolf is what watches from the edge of that comfort: instinct, independence, the willingness to stand apart. Sidi isn't interested in which one wins. He's interested in the space between them, the moment of choosing, and what that choice reveals. Most people live their whole lives without noticing the fence. Wolves is about noticing.
Even the palette tells you where this is going. Not black or white, but the beige in between. The color of ambiguity, of refusing easy answers. Growth, in this project's language, isn't becoming harder. It's becoming more aware. Strength isn't always aggression. Sometimes strength is noticing, and then having the discipline to act on what you noticed.
This is the culmination of an arc Sidi has been building across his entire catalog. The End of the Beginning was the raw confession. The Devils and the Angels named the two voices inside. Simp surrendered to love. Purple Hearts sat inside love's complications. Wolves turns the lens around at last. Every project was a conversation with himself; this is the chapter where he finally listens to the answer.
There's a quiet confidence to that, and it's the rarest kind. Not the confidence that needs to be seen, the kind that comes from recognition. Maybe he didn't choose the wolf. Maybe he just finally recognized it.
Lost Sheep is the first release from Wolves.
This is WOLVES. Not a release date. An awareness date. I wanted to introduce you to the world I'm building before I ask you to fully step into it. Wolves is a continuation of the sincerity I've been exploring in my music, but this time I'm going even deeper into self-awareness, identity, instinct, discipline, and becoming more conscious of who I am. Welcome to Wolves.
Sidi · From his Wolves announcement, Instagram.
Every project is a chapter of one continuing conversation with himself.
ON FILM
Obsessed, the video
Before the album era, the Simp EP already had a film of its own. Obsessed, shot and released in December 2022, is the first video of the catalog.
December 18, 2022 · From the Simp EP
Co-directed by SIDI · Styling by SIDI
Die For You, the video
Premiered October 11, 2024. The song arrived in 2022; the film came two years later, and it carries the song's world in red: two figures, drawn in black, against a field of it.
A film by Nils Roth · Roth Media Production · Shot on IRIX Cine lenses · With @h3ywat · Behind the scenes @ellswalk · Co-directed by SIDI · Styling by SIDI