Premiere: Olina’s “Newspaper Smell” Offers a Bold and Unfiltered Exploration of Class, Turmoil, and First-Generation Anxiety - Atwood Magazine

      Olina’s “Newspaper Smell” is an intense, sharp indie rock anthem that explores themes of class absurdity, cultural dislocation, and the struggles of first-generation imposter syndrome — a tune you can groove to while the world subtly disintegrates around you.

      Stream: “Newspaper Smell” – Olina

      Does it really matter what I pursue? I’m not a nihilist, but I get why some find it appealing…

      * * *

      Olina’s first single of the year is sarcastic, seething, self-aware, and strikes like a visceral panic spiral – a cheeky, cathartic outpouring of immigrant resilience and existential angst, all wrapped in a bold indie rock facade. “Newspaper Smell” is both a fierce shout and a sly smirk; it’s a raw, emotionally charged coming-of-age anthem that channels class absurdity, identity struggles, and first-gen imposter syndrome into a bold, unfiltered musical expression.

      Newspaper Smell – Olina

      Everything feels unfamiliar

      Except for the smell of newspapers

      and cigarettes, coffee

      I swallow to mask my homesickness

      But my mind resists

      It won’t replay the story

      So I earned a degree, like a good daughter

      But spent my summer

      cleaning up the vomit of wealthy men

      Even that paper

      couldn’t make me feel competent

      Are they fundraising

      or is it just a banquet?

      I can’t see it yet,

      what am I gaining?

      Does it matter what I pursue?

      I’m not a nihilist, but I understand the allure of it

      Doesn’t matter what you say

      I’ll still be anxious because I feel transient

      Atwood Magazine proudly presents “Newspaper Smell,” the unapologetic and unforgettable lead single from Olina’s upcoming debut EP, By the Book, set to release later this year. After her genre-blending endeavors with the rock-fusion group The Zaramutas and years building a beloved handmade jewelry brand (@drool_jewel – worn by artists like Tyla and Maiah Manser, and featured in the NYT), the London-via-Greece singer/songwriter plunges into her own raw, vibrant realm – and “Newspaper Smell” serves as a messy, magnificent introduction.

      Olina © Loreta Tale

      “I wrote ‘Newspaper Smell’ after spending a summer working at Royal Ascot – serving inebriated men in top hats bragging about their wealth, haggling over a £7 plate of mac ’n’ cheese, and leaving behind bins full of vomit that I had to clean the following morning,” Olina explains to Atwood Magazine. “That strange mix of class performance, invisible labor, and surreal affluence stayed with me. Despite having a biology degree, my imposter syndrome – heightened by being a first-gen immigrant in a ‘more developed’ nation – made me doubt my eligibility for a science position here. So instead, I took poorly-paid, thankless jobs. You spend years trying to adapt, and by the time you look up, everyone else seems much further ahead.”

      “This song addresses identity, existential anxiety, and class performance – but it’s laced with sarcasm because for me, it’s about reclaiming control, transforming frustration into something sharp and empowering, a type of first-gen imposter syndrome fever dream. I aimed for it to feel like dancing in a room that’s quietly on fire!”

      That statement encapsulates everything – and Olina delivers. “Newspaper Smell” is urgent, dramatic, and dynamically unpredictable: a bubbling pot of incisive lyrics and sharp guitars, oscillating between cheeky chaos and clear-eyed catharsis. Her voice balances shouting and smirking, urgency and weariness. This isn’t just quiet desperation; it’s the sound of endurance with eyeliner smudged and the middle finger raised.

      My mind denies my blood and won’t express my thoughts

      Only the numbers remain, so I count down until I’m at peace

      But they’re intoxicated because it’s sunny, sporting birds on their hats

      They could purchase the entire food truck yet haggle for seven pounds

      And I reached the future prematurely, I’m misfired

      An outline lacking definition, no surprise birthday

      No plans for the day, all days mapped out

      A miracle worker, all objectives still unfulfilled

      I can’t see it yet, but I am willing, I’m willing

      I can’t feel it yet, but this is the beginning

      I can’t see it yet but I’m winning…

      “The melody came to me on the bus ride home from work, after reading 1984 — I know, it’s a cliché, but I hadn’t read it before because of that, and I’m truly glad I finally did,” she shares. “It likely instilled some of that dystopian, questioning vibe in me. I kept