Review: Sydney Ross Mitchell’s "Cynthia" Prays for Acceptance in Outgrowing Identity

Written by Sofia Treviño

Image by Cole Silberman

A bar bathroom setting kicks off Sydney Ross Mitchell’s latest EP, Cynthia. The 26-year-old singer recounts a woman named Cynthia telling her, “I see Jesus in your eyes/ You’ll never belong here, no matter how hard you try.” Cynthia’s statement opens up the EP to Ross Mitchell’s rumination on her past self and who she’s setting out to become.

Released February 6, the eight tracks whisper introspections of leaving home and searching for identity. In the opening track, Cynthia’s words bring Ross Mitchell face-to-face with her evolving selfhood after moving from Lubbock, Texas, to Los Angeles to pursue music.

Even though she spins hyper-specific stories with each song, underlying currents of self-discovery resonate with listeners. Folk storytelling skills mix with dreamy sounds and Southern influences. Such as in “Cynthia,” where detailed lyrics give way to elongated guitar fills that evoke older Rascal Flatts notes.

“Victory Lap Whiplash” relates to a deceitful relationship. The artist shares how an attraction led her down a tunnel of blind-sided hurt and reeling in the aftermath. Uncertainty then shifts into a short, playful interlude. Woodsy saxophone notes skate over flutes and clarinets before seamlessly melting into “Kisses On Ice.” Ross Mitchell leans into a delusional desire over an unwilling person, voicing a desire to wait on someone. In a soothing, mellow voice reminiscent of  Clairo’s, Ross Mitchell hums over groovy bass drums and twinkling bells. A reflection on her romantic relationships continues in “Big Boy Problems,” singing, “I was a bitch, you deserved it.” She gives herself grace in acting out over someone unworthy of her love.

While Cynthia also covers romantic fallouts, similar to Ross Mitchell’s previous EP, Pure Bliss Forever, this new addition pivots more into her relationship with her upbringing. “I hate going home, I feel like myself again/I can't even smoke, I miss my boyfriend/ If I'm a star, they’re still disappointed/ I don't have a baby or a diamond to show them,” Ross Mitchell sings in “Queen of Homecoming.” 

Relatable lines deliver the epitome of her conflicting feelings: she’s chasing the life she wants, but still ends up dissatisfying people back home. She fears not getting the acknowledgement of success from her hometown due to breaking free of certain expectations set upon her. Ross Mitchell pens lyrics that get straight to the point and showcase her innate ability to transfer strong emotions of nostalgia, disappointment, and hope. 

“Dorothy” shows the singer’s way of looking at people and situations with sympathy, even if they are undeserving of it. She looks back at someone who hurt her with forgiveness in lines like, “I love you, I wish I knew why.” Ross Mitchell seemingly extends patience to others in the hopes that others back home will do the same for her.

Religious guilt circles the EP’s end in “May The Landing Come Softly.” Filled with anxiety of not knowing if she’ll make it to heaven, Ross Mitchell leaves off with a wish to end up back with her loved ones in the afterlife. The final track doesn’t serve as an answer to Cynthia’s initial statement that she doesn’t belong, but rather as a mirror of her internal conflict with outgrowing who she was in her youth.

In a search for success or love, is leaving Texas a betrayal that disconnects her from home? She ends the EP in a repetition of, “May the landing come softly” over a crying guitar, as if praying not to have strayed too far in the search for herself.