Sadboi/Happyboi
Muhammad $mith feels like a statement in itself—global, common, yet deliberately individual. The name pushes quietly against assumptions. Faith, identity, masculinity, softness—they all sit side by side without conflict, which makes the project feel like a subtle kind of protest.
His release "Sadboi/Happyboi" carries that same quiet resistance. It doesn’t try to explain itself. It just sits in the reality of being young, emotionally overwhelmed, and unsure where you’re headed. There’s grief here, and hope, and that strange numbness that creeps in when you’ve felt too much for too long.
This isn’t about chasing a sound or fitting into a scene. It’s about something deeper—emotional honesty that cuts across where you’re from, what you look like, or what you believe in. That convergence, the feeling that we’re all a little broken in the same way, is what ties it together. Youth culture, in all its mess, finds a kind of unity in that.
"Sadboi/Happyboi" doesn’t promise a way out—it just lets you sit with the feeling. And maybe that’s the point. In a world that keeps moving, this is a rare moment of pause. No big answers. Just a quiet, necessary kind of truth.