Album Review: Sampler by Sarah Fimm – A Genre-Bending Gem That Still Resonates
Let’s talk about Sampler, the 2008 release from Sarah Fimm. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill record—it’s a bold mashup of Electronic and Rock vibes, with hints of Pop Rock and Trip Hop sprinkled in like glitter on a DIY art project. Self-released under her own label (because who needs gatekeepers anyway?), this album feels personal, raw, and unapologetically real.
Now, I’ll admit—when I first hit play, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But dang, did it grab me. Two tracks stood out so much they’ve been stuck in my head ever since: “Red Paper Bag” and “Be Like Water.”
“Red Paper Bag” hits you right away with its moody electronic beats layered over a rock backbone. It’s got this haunting quality that makes you wanna stare out a rainy window while sipping coffee. The lyrics? Kinda cryptic but also super relatable—like when life feels messy and you just want to shove everything into… well, a red paper bag. You know those songs that feel like they’re reading your mind? Yeah, this is one of them.
Then there’s “Be Like Water.” Holy cow, this track is smooth. It flows (pun totally intended) between dreamy synth lines and sharp guitar riffs, creating something that’s both chill and intense at the same time. Fimm’s vocals here are hypnotic, almost like she’s whispering secrets directly into your ear. There’s a moment halfway through where the music drops out completely, leaving only her voice—and honestly, it gave me goosebumps. That kind of stripped-down vulnerability doesn’t come around often.
The rest of the album keeps things interesting too. Tracks like “Great Wide Open” and “Paradeise” [sic] bring a mix of introspection and energy, while “Counting Waves” leans more atmospheric, perfect for zoning out during a long drive. And don’t sleep on “Violet”—it’s short but packs a punch with its eerie yet beautiful tone.
What really sticks with me about Sampler is how it refuses to be boxed in. Is it Electronic? Sure. Rock? Yep. Pop Rock? Trip Hop? Absolutely. But none of these labels fully capture what Sarah Fimm has created here. It’s like she took all her influences, threw them in a blender, and hit puree—and somehow, it works.
Here’s the thing: listening to Sampler feels like finding an old journal you forgot you wrote. Each song is a snapshot of emotion, untamed and unfiltered. And maybe that’s why it still resonates over a decade later—it’s not trying to impress anyone; it’s just being itself.
Final thought? If aliens ever land and ask us to explain human creativity, I’d hand them a copy of Sampler. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. Plus, I bet even extraterrestrials could vibe with “Be Like Water.”
