Jessie Murph unleashes her power on Sex Hysteria, with songs that challenge us to look closer, feel deeper, and stop pretending vulnerability is weakness. Guests include Gucci Mane and Lil Baby.

Jessie Murph isn’t holding back. On Sex Hysteria, her daring sophomore album, the 19-year-old firestarter tears down every wall, not caring whether they’re musical, emotional, or societal. Across 15 fearless and bruising songs, Murph trades in the aching vulnerability of her 2022 debut That Ain’t No Man That’s The Devil for something louder, more pointed, and brazenly unfiltered.

Anchored by the singles “Blue Strips” and the slinky, provocative “Touch Me Like A Gangster,” Sex Hysteria is a reclamation of voice, body, and story. It’s the sound of a young woman no longer asking for space, but taking it by force, stomping in with bass-heavy beats, ballads, and a voice that refuses to flinch. Murph explores toxic love on “Heroin,” a devastating piano-led ballad that finds her singing about addictive relationships with the same aching intensity she once brought to broken homes and bruised dreams. But there’s strength here too. On “Donuts” featuring Gucci Mane and “Best Behavior” with Lil Baby, she flexes over trap-pop beats with swagger and a sharp-tongued lyrical spit.

What sets Sex Hysteria apart isn’t just the growth, it’s the thematic ambition. Murph digs deep into generational trauma, sexual autonomy, and the shame that still polices women who dare to be messy, loud, or lustful. “It’s a provocation and a reclamation,” she’s said of the album. And she’s not wrong. The album opens with “Gucci Mane,” a diaristic origin story that sets the tone for what follows, a menagerie of fearless words woven into trap, R&B, pop, and country hues. It’s a collage of contradictions.

Visually, Murph nods to ‘60s femme fatales with a beehive and winged eyeliner on the cover, flipping the image of the submissive housewife on its head. In sound and sentiment, Sex Hysteria is anything but vintage - it’s startlingly present, pulsing with modern trauma, modern love, and modern fury. But don’t mistake it for chaos. This is control. This is catharsis. This is Jessie Murph at the top of her lungs.

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