On The Breeze Grew A Fire, Mereba rediscovers space for her truest self and vows to remain authentic. Breeze opener “Counterfeit” begins with a soda shop jukebox-reminiscent melody, the song rhythmically whisks into an essential message of not losing oneself. The lyrics were first inspired by her observations of people around her, yet as the song grew in form, it slowly became an anthem aimed back at herself, too. The chorus’s production remains rhythmic, albeit a light experimental warble, while Mereba’s heartfelt vocals reach through the song.
Affirmations weave the textile of Breeze, like the drum-pulsating “Ever Needed,” which Mereba calls a “loyalty anthem” for her loved ones. “When they all forgot about me /Yeah, you pulled me out of that sea /And you made it easy to be alive /I’ll be there for you, I will be, I will be,” Mereba yearns on the dedication. Within the song’s gentle seams, the nuances of Mereba’s contemplative stories are often woven into verse lyrics, where here she also recalls heavier days of struggling through heartaches, regrets, and “rat races” together.
A moment of stillness arrives on the album’s titular track, “breeze grew fire,” an acoustic spoken word piece that sees self-reclamation and processing vulnerabilities exposed in the aftermath of childhood trauma and failed connections. As relief, Mereba gently tends to these wounds and relaxes into the breeze, treating herself with kindness and giving grace to “A calm reminder of who I was before the weight.”
With this theme of unburdening, Mereba relieves the emotions of those around her, whether it's her own son, whom she lovingly adores and clearly instructs on the tender, dusk-appropriate lullaby “Starlight,” or a late friend who she fondly remembers through hazy club memories, wishing them well on the celestial journey through “infinite space-time” on “Hawk.”
Ancestral presence looms close to the album’s core, as heard between the thrumming guitar, soaring vocalizations and nudge towards courage on “Spirit Guiding,” where Mereba’s resonant tone paces towards divine ascension. Similarly, Mereba would sojourn to her paternal homeland of Ethiopia during the creation of album’s penultimate song, “Heart of a Child,” where a stringed instrument from the Abyssinia nestles against the song’s contemplative lines and playful spirit.
While nowhere near the end of her musical trek, The Breeze Grew a Fire is a loving, inspiring return to origin, one where Mereba frees a painful past, eases into future possibilities, and goes with life’s flow.
