Venezuelan newcomer Nia Perez arrives with Things I Wish I Said, a debut EP that feels like a collection of secrets whispered under a bedroom ceiling at midnight. Across five tracks, Perez captures the messiness of love, heartbreak, and self-discovery with a softness and sincerity that instantly sets her apart. There’s nothing performative here, no dramatics for the sake of drama. Instead, Perez writes like someone finally ready to say all the things she once swallowed.
“Shapeshifting” opens the project with a lyrical framework that many will recognize: the moment you look in the mirror and realize you’ve been twisting yourself into new shapes for someone else’s approval. The production is gentle and atmospheric, letting Perez’s story sit center stage. It’s a vulnerable start, and it signals immediately that this is an emotional unfolding.
She follows it with “Not Her,” the track that has already earned significant traction online. It’s the kind of song that speaks to a specific experience, watching someone replace you while still chasing your memory, yet somehow manages to resonate universally. Perez doesn’t lash out; instead, she observes with heartbreaking clarity, and listeners feel seen in the honesty.
Then comes “Oh Sweet July,” perhaps the most cinematic moment of the EP. A breakup on her 17th birthday in New York sounds like the opening scene of a coming-of-age indie film, and Perez treats it with the same delicate direction. Her repeated question, “how could you do this to me?”, feels less like anger and more like a young person coming to terms with their first real emotional fracture. It lingers in the listening space.
“Cognitive Dissonance” widens the lens, tackling the pull of a toxic love that refuses to fully let go. Perez writes the emotional tension with smart lyrical precision, navigating the uncomfortable space between knowing something is wrong and still wanting it. It’s a song that captures the psychology behind heartbreak, not just the feeling.
The journey ends with “Little Old Flame,” a track that doesn’t just tie the story together; it closes the loop. Perez steps into accountability and hands it back to the person who earned it. “Do you like you now that you’re all alone?” is not a dagger, it’s a mirror.
With Things I Wish I Said, Perez proves she is an artist capable of transforming personal experience into collective catharsis. As debuts go, this one feels less like a beginning and more like the opening chapter of a career worth watching closely.