There’s something beautiful about hearing a woman tell her own story, especially when she isn’t interested in making herself look perfect. Chicago alternative R&B artist MIRIAH does exactly that on her debut project, PINK GUN, which explores grief, heartbreak, faith, and the complicated ways we love one another.
As someone who hasn’t fully immersed herself in alternative R&B, I was eager to hear the stories that would unfold across each song. What caught my attention wasn’t just MIRIAH’s ability to move between genres, but how she used those different sounds to express emotions that don’t always have the right words attached to them. Throughout PINK GUN, she tells a beautiful, sometimes uncomfortable story of a woman navigating life in Chicago, where loving someone and protecting yourself can occasionally feel like two competing responsibilities.
At first glance, the title PINK GUN almost sounds contradictory. Pink is often associated with softness, femininity, and affection, while a gun represents something much more threatening. But that’s exactly the point. Love can be beautiful, but in the wrong hands, it can also hurt.
When I spoke with MIRIAH about the project, she described love as a tool that everyone has been given, but not everyone knows how to use. The pink, she explained, represents the superficial ways people often approach love, choosing temporary relationships or material things over the vulnerability that comes with loving someone deeply.
“We’re all wounded people wounding one another,” she said. It’s a simple observation, but one that captures the larger story behind PINK GUN.
Rather than approaching the subject through romance alone, MIRIAH examines how heartbreak extends into our relationships with family, friends, ourselves, and even God. It’s an ambitious concept, especially for a project that refuses to commit to one musical identity. Yet the more you listen, the more those seemingly disconnected sounds begin to make sense.
One of the most interesting moments arrives on “Sears Tower,” a song that immediately feels personal to anyone familiar with Chicago. And yes, we’re still calling it Sears Tower. The upbeat energy makes it easy to get caught up in the production, but underneath it lies one of the project’s heavier stories.
MIRIAH reflects on her family, the absence of her father, and the pain surrounding her brother. What initially feels like a lively record becomes an examination of how grief can quietly shape someone’s behavior. During our conversation, MIRIAH explained that the song was inspired by recognizing similarities between herself and her father, particularly how grief had shaped both their lives.
“I just recognized the parallels between who he became because of the grief he experienced, and then who I was starting to become because of the grief I was experiencing,” she said.
It’s a reminder that sadness doesn’t always arrive wrapped in a slow instrumental or a devastating ballad. Sometimes, it’s hiding underneath the songs that make you want to move.
PINK GUN handles that contrast particularly well. MIRIAH doesn’t let production dictate what an emotional song should sound like, and I appreciate that she doesn’t underestimate the listener’s ability to find meaning beyond the first impression.
“Purity” takes the project somewhere entirely different. Built around rock-influenced production, the track finds MIRIAH confronting uncertainty in her relationship with God. The shift in sound is striking, particularly against the project’s R&B foundation, but it also feels appropriate for the emotional territory she’s exploring.
There’s a certain frustration in wanting to believe in something wholeheartedly while still struggling with doubt. “Purity” captures that tension without trying to resolve it neatly. The instrumental's intensity gives those emotions room to become messy, overwhelming, and at times uncomfortable.
Interestingly, MIRIAH revealed that “Purity” was the first song she had ever recorded over a rock beat. While searching through instrumentals on YouTube, she found the production and immediately began developing the song.
It’s one of the project’s most compelling creative decisions. Rather than treating faith as separate from her experiences with love and grief, MIRIAH lets it exist alongside them. Her spirituality isn’t presented as an instant solution to everything she’s endured. It’s another relationship she’s learning how to navigate.
Elsewhere, “Jesus Piece” continues that willingness to experiment, incorporating unexpected musical textures and choir elements that reflect the gospel influences in MIRIAH’s upbringing. The record feels representative of an artist who’s still discovering how far she can push her sound without losing the parts of herself that made her want to create music in the first place.
While the different genres can initially make PINK GUN feel like several musical worlds sharing the same space, the storytelling ultimately connects them. It’s refreshing to hear an artist allow each emotion to have its own sound rather than forcing every song into a familiar formula.
The project’s collaborations also add to that variety. On “Superpowers,” TheArti$t and theMIND contribute distinct personalities that complement MIRIAH’s approach. Rather than feeling like features added simply for recognition, their contributions help expand the record's emotional atmosphere. Mello Buckzz’s appearance on the title track, however, feels especially connected to the project’s Chicago identity.
“PINK GUN” brings together romantic betrayal and the fear that can come from navigating a city where violence has affected your sense of safety. It’s an interesting parallel: the emotional walls people build after being hurt by someone they love and the physical caution they develop after experiencing danger.
During our conversation, MIRIAH revealed that the song was influenced by both a romantic betrayal and an incident in which someone threatened her with a gun while she was driving through Chicago.
“I feel like I have to overprotect myself in the city that I love so much.”
Mello Buckzz’s presence introduces another perspective, giving the song an unapologetic energy that complements MIRIAH’s more layered writing. Both artists approach their experiences differently, but their contributions speak to a shared understanding of what it means to protect yourself.
And that’s where the project’s relationship with Chicago becomes especially important.
Chicago has never had only one musical identity, despite how often its artists are expected to represent a particular sound. MIRIAH’s willingness to embrace alternative R&B, rock, hip-hop, and gospel feels like an extension of that diversity. Her music doesn’t have to sound like Drill to tell a Chicago story.
What makes PINK GUN feel rooted in the city isn’t simply the references to familiar landmarks or the inclusion of another Chicago artist. It’s how MIRIAH writes about the people and experiences that have shaped her understanding of love, especially her instinct to protect herself from getting hurt again.
Still, I think the most meaningful part of PINK GUN is its refusal to treat MIRIAH as someone who’s always been right.
It’s easy to write a song about being wronged. It’s another thing entirely to acknowledge the moments when you’ve contributed to someone else’s pain. Throughout the project, MIRIAH doesn’t shy away from the uncomfortable reality that having good intentions doesn’t automatically mean you’ve treated someone well.
That self-awareness gives the project much of its emotional weight. Instead of positioning healing as the moment when everyone who hurt you finally apologizes, PINK GUN suggests that healing can also begin when you recognize your own mistakes.
It’s an idea that extends beyond romantic relationships. Friendships fall apart. Family members disappoint us. Sometimes we distance ourselves from people we still love, and sometimes reconciliation doesn’t mean restoring what existed before.
MIRIAH makes room for those realities without pretending they’re easy to accept. As she said, “Love is also reconciliation, and reconciliation doesn’t always have to look like you’re restoring the relationship.”
If there’s one challenge with PINK GUN, it’s that its genre-hopping approach occasionally asks the listener to make some sharp emotional adjustments. Moving between upbeat production, vulnerable R&B, and heavier alternative sounds can feel abrupt.
But the transitions also reflect the unpredictable nature of the experiences she’s documenting. Grief, anger, affection, and faith rarely arrive in an organized sequence in real life, either.
What stayed with me after listening was the idea that MIRIAH lets us hear her while she’s still figuring things out.
There’s no grand declaration that she’s healed from everything she’s experienced. No promise that she’ll never make another mistake. Instead, PINK GUN feels like an acknowledgment that growth can be an ongoing process, one that requires honesty even when the truth isn’t particularly flattering.
For someone who doesn’t regularly gravitate toward alternative R&B, the EP offered an interesting reminder of why stepping outside your usual listening habits can be rewarding. As a fellow Chicagoan, I came into the project curious about the stories MIRIAH wanted to tell, and I left thinking about how many different ways those stories could be expressed.
At its heart, PINK GUN is a story about a Chicago woman learning that love isn’t always gentle, grief isn’t always obvious, and healing doesn’t necessarily mean forgetting what happened.
Sometimes, it simply means deciding that the pain you’ve experienced doesn’t have to determine how you love the next person.
Favorite Track(s): “Sears Tower”