R&B mainstay Jhené Aiko included “Tryna Smoke” on her third studio album Chilombo, released in March 2020 and talked about up through the release of the deluxe edition that July. But the song has cone into its own just in time to embody the consciously chill vibes, not to mention certain legalization legislation, which summer 2021 called for. From its instrumentation to its message, it projects the intention to slow down and take stock of a state of being on the molecular level. And, let’s be honest, it’s just a bop.

Listeners will hardly be shocked to learn that Aiko got inspiration for her latest full-length project by exploring her grandmother’s birthplace in Hawaii—the album takes its name from Aiko’s given surname—nor that each one of the twenty tracks features a freestyle rap. “I wanted it to be music you can feel,” she said of her choice to use primarily acoustic instruments, and “Tryna Smoke” encapsulates that aim as succinctly as any (the plucked, syncopated acoustic guitar is definitely a standout feature).

Appearing eleventh in the album’s sequencing—at the peak of the arc, you might say, from a visual perspective—it functions as a sort of vibe check, a laid-back ode to escaping all the “confusion on the ground” on a THC high. It’s a sentiment and an atmosphere that suits her well. Fans of Aiko from the days of her early-2010s mixtapes know she doesn’t rush into the creative process: Chilombo‘s predecessor, Trip, dropped back in 2017. And even the most casual fan will recognize her appreciation of a good collab (remember her feature on Drake’s “From Time” back in 2013?). This track highlights all those hallmarks.

It was co-written with Micahfonecheck, credited as Micah Powell, who eases us into the groove with some bars about getting high to check out of life for a while and find peace within himself. The vocals are mixed low and fuzzed over, as if coming to us from far off. The groove in question consists of a smoothly ascending bass line punctuated by the aforementioned syncopated guitar and—the eclectic touch—a theremin whose notes hover up high. We’re automatically tuned in to an otherworldly environment, as the theremin is noted for its appearance in many a sci-fi film score, and to a sense of floating away (or the desire to)…all before Aiko enters with her verse.

With such active, wide-ranging instruments surrounding her, she keeps it cool and level on the chorus vocals, never extending beyond the span of a few notes. This indicates a clever dichotomy right off the bat: there’s a sense of balance she achieves when she smokes, but she also all too easily feels stagnant, stuck in her position after each high wears off. “If I could fly, I would probably never come down,” her refrain tells us first and foremost. “I wish that I was high, ‘cause I can’t live my life when it’s loud.”

That she follows this up with a sung verse beginning “Life’s no fairytale, I know all too well” suggests how dependent she has become on her highs to keep her from falling into despair. Even so, her tone is airy, her words few, her lines short, letting the notes hang suspended as in a dream state. “Inhale, exhale,” she says, and it’s easy for us to be carried off on her wave.

After a repetition of the chorus, she counterbalances that minimalism with a rapped verse whose lines are long and polysyllabic and whose rhythms cause words to bleed over into each other (the two counts of “when I’m high I see” are the most obvious example, though the murmured overdub at the end of each line accomplishes the same effect). This verse begins with “Tryna keep myself from looking over the edge,” suggesting a deliberate mode of escapism, a coping mechanism for all the trouble and stress she witnesses in her world. She uses the experience as a channel to connect with higher powers (pun intended), too: the echo used on the background vocals of “I be probably talking to him most when I’m high”—“him” being God—creates an ethereal atmosphere, a sense of transcending, of having done what she set out to do.

The meat of the song is bookended by a recorded transaction between a bewildered customer and a dealer who might not be so reputable, a solid 40 seconds or so of dialogue on either end. This could refer to the idea that a good high is hard to come by and that a person in search of it will encounter a lot of obstacles, shady deals being one, along their way. Whatever other implications it holds, it certainly gives the impression of an uneasy, fraught world from which a singer like Aiko would reasonably seek respite.

It’s a track that is equally kind to both the urban stroller, weaving under scaffolding and through intersections, and the suburban driver, turning up the speaker and turning down the top. Despite a winter-thaw release, it has the aura to ensure it stays in perennial summertime rotation. Clearly Aiko knows when to deliver; “I like to really take my time and put the pieces together,” she has said of her artistic timeline. “Tryna Smoke” provides instant-classic evidence that her ideas are always worth the wait.