Album review: SWAG

I’ve been a Belieber since My World, since those early days when Justin Bieber’s side-swept bangs and “One Time” had us all believing in something sweet and simple

So when I hit play on his new album SWAG, I wasn’t just listening — I was reconnecting. And let me tell you this isn’t just an album. SWAG is a statement. It’s Bieber finally sounding like himself again.

This is the first album he’s released with complete creative control and it shows in every raw lyric and unexpected beat. Without Scooter Braun guiding the ship (towards the iceberg, let’s be real), Bieber’s finally free to steer the wheel — and what we get is something deeply personal, moody, genre-bending, and weird in the best way.

This isn’t the polished pop prince of Believe or even the R&B experimentalist of Journals. This is a 31-year-old father, husband, and survivor making music that actually sounds like it came from his soul.

And that soul? It’s been through a lot. From public meltdowns to the struggles with navigating fame, marriage, and mental health in the spotlight, Bieber isn’t hiding anything on SWAG. He confronts it all — heartbreak, anxiety, joy, confusion — and he does it in a way that feels less like he’s performing and more like he’s processing. Listening to this album, I didn’t feel like a fan — I felt like a witness.

The album opens with “ALL I CAN TAKE,” a stripped-down track that feels like a reintroduction. It’s quiet but commanding, like someone who’s no longer trying to shout over the noise.

From there, SWAG unfolds into a journey that doesn’t care about pop conventions. You can hear Journals’ DNA in it, but it’s more weathered now. Less boyish R&B, more grown-man ache.

“STANDING ON BUSINESS” is where things get a little chaotic … in the best way. It samples a viral paparazzi clip and layers it over a warped, stuttering beat. Somehow, it becomes a weirdly effective meditation on privacy, rage, and survival in the spotlight. It shouldn’t work, but it absolutely does.

One of the biggest surprises of SWAG is how well the features blend into the story Bieber’s telling. Gunna slides effortlessly onto “WAY IT IS” with a melodic verse that feels less like a guest appearance and more like a shared love song.

Sexyy Red brings her wild energy to “SWEET SPOT,” which is chaotic, profane, and weirdly funny. And then there’s Lil B, the ultimate wildcard, and Bieber himself. Showing up on “DADZ LOVE,” he samples his own drum beat from an old home video when he was a toddler like some unfiltered conscience. It’s meta and absolutely intentional.

Even Druski, who appears in multiple skits, doesn’t feel like filler. His voice notes are part parody, part intervention — mocking Justin’s reputation while offering something like emotional clarity. It’s the kind of humour that could only exist on an album this self-aware.

But SWAG isn’t all existential spiraling. There are softer moments, too. “DADZ LOVE” and a gentle interlude, which serves as a nod to his infant son, give us glimpses of Bieber as a father — something we’ve never heard from him in this way. These songs aren’t written to go viral. They’re little time capsules, quiet and beautiful.

Still, the standout for me is “DAISIES.” It’s simple, aching, and completely unguarded. Bieber taps into a soft desperation we rarely hear from male artists. There’s no facade, no flex, just someone waiting, hoping, and loving out loud. It reminds me of the kid who sang “Down to Earth,” only now he’s grown up and carrying real emotional weight.

The production across SWAG is just as fearless. There’s a retro, hazy warmth to a lot of it, serving up gospel, reggae, even psychedelic soul. It doesn’t sit neatly in a genre and that’s exactly why it works. Collaborations with artists like Dijon and Daniel Caesar help elevate the more atmospheric tracks, while still letting Bieber’s voice take centre stage.

The second-to-last track in the album is “TOO LONG,” a quiet Whitney-esque ballad where Bieber strips everything away and lands with the kind of emotional sexuality that only comes from a mastermind.

Critics are already split — some call it unfocused, others call it brilliant. But as someone who’s been on this ride since the beginning, I don’t need SWAG to be perfect. I need it to be real. And that’s what this album is — it’s messy, bold, sincere, and entirely his.

SWAG may not dominate the charts, but it doesn’t need to. It’s not about hits anymore. It’s about healing. And after all these years, Bieber has finally made an album that sounds like no one else but him.

And honestly? That’s more than enough.