B-Side Guys

An infected mind doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. RIVER’s “I AM CANCER” begins in whispers—ghostly synth textures that feel like thoughts you’ve been trying not to think, the kind that surface at 3 AM when your defenses are down. But defenses are precisely what this track examines: the walls we build to protect ourselves that end up keeping out the very thing we’re desperate for.

The Swedish alt-pop artist’s production unfolds with patience, letting shimmering guitars and intricate percussion gradually fill the space without crowding it. There’s a dreamlike quality to the arrangement that mirrors the disorientation RIVER describes—trying to navigate intimacy when your mind keeps telling you you’re unworthy of it. Her voice moves through this landscape with an aching vulnerability that never feels performative, floating rather than pushing, embodying the fragility of someone attempting connection while simultaneously bracing for rejection.

RIVER explains the song as exploring the frustration of being unable to cure or hide “an ugly mind stuck in false self-beliefs,” and that honesty cuts through. This isn’t metaphor for metaphor’s sake—it’s someone documenting what it feels like when your own defense mechanisms become the enemy, when self-protection mutates into self-sabotage. The title’s stark declaration functions as both confession and accusation, owning the toxicity while recognizing its origins in trauma rather than truth.

The track reflects the depth RIVER’s been reaching for since moving beyond her debut EP ‘We’ll Be Together’. Where that earlier work explored sexuality and performance, this new material—shaped by a period of travel, addiction, and recovery—confronts what happens when you’re finally ready to heal but still carrying the infection. Her influences (Portishead, Mazzy Star, Prince, FKA twigs) echo through the production’s cinematic scope, but the emotional core is entirely her own.

What makes “I AM CANCER” resonate is its refusal to offer false resolution. The song doesn’t pretend that recognizing your patterns automatically breaks them, or that wanting to be vulnerable makes you capable of it. Instead, it sits with the uncomfortable truth that sometimes the barrier between you and love is you—and knowing that doesn’t always make it easier to tear down.