Countless women of exceptional ability have achieved remarkable feats, only to remain nameless and forgotten. In the early 20th century, English author Virginia Woolf posed a question: If Shakespeare had had a sister, would she have become as great a playwright? Woolf was critiquing the social constraints that women with incredible artistic talent had to endure. The act of calling someone by their name, and the experience of being called by your own, is far more than a simple act of address—it puts the truth of your existence on the record, and grants it the vitality to remain there as history stretches on.

JENNIE vividly captures this act of calling someone by name with “Ruby,” her first studio album, released on March 7. For JENNIE, it’s about more than proving she exists—it goes beyond making a bold statement to the fact, and goes on to resonate deeply with her listeners. We see this thread at work with how the track “like JENNIE” follows directly after the album’s intro. On the surface, the song’s a playful reminder of JENNIE’s status as a global icon. She poses questions that, if not carefully considered, can be misconstrued as arrogance—“Who wanna rock with JENNIE? … Who else got ’em obsessed like JENNIE?”—but the truth is, you can’t help but agree with what she’s saying. The ferocious, growling beat only adds to the intensity.

The singer, however, never fully defines who this JENNIE is in concrete detail. Analogies like “Special edition and your AI couldn’t copy” and “I’m priceless” not only position her as the indeterminate subject of the music, but also strategically create a dynamic, fluid understanding of what it means to be JENNIE through the use of boundary-pushing expressions. By refusing to take any concrete form in regards to her outward appearance, she enables others to borrow her name and begin to write their own stories. In doing so, the song “like JENNIE” makes the name JENNIE what it is—a one-of-a-kind proper noun—but one which anyone can choose to call themselves at the same time. It is both a firm declaration of existing in the here and now, and a reminder of the expanded potential on display.

The track “ZEN” offers another take on the name concept—one that’s more inward facing. “ZEN” refers to Zen meditation, a Buddhist practice that involves calming the mind and falling into deep concentration to achieve enlightenment, and listening to JENNIE’s song, it feels like traversing that same path. When we think of what it means to become a better person, we typically picture breaking down negative self-perception and then eliminating it altogether, but according to Buddhism, the key to enlightenment lies in understanding that even such traits are a part of who you are and that there’s no one immovable concept of self. With lines like “midnight bloom,” JENNIE acknowledges that she has embraced suffering, anxiety, and worry, and that she’s grown as a result and is now unshakable. By the end of the journey, she’s taken the things that tormented her and accepted even these as a part of who she is. “ZEN” represents more than a destination—it’s a process that acts as another name for JENNIE once she’s made it though, as in the line, “I keep it Z, Zen.” The accompanying soundscape reflects the journey: the dreamy and still firm bass anchors the song, with the idol’s deliberate vocals providing sporadic punctuation. The restrained melody, an exercise in the beauty of minimalism, rises up as emotional evidence of JENNIE as contemplative and transcendent. And within that minimalistic space, her name is clear and distinct even when not directly reaffirmed.

Still, speaking your own name isn’t always a matter of confident proclamation. Sometimes that name becomes lost in emotion, blurred in someone else’s words. Straddling this border are the songs “Love Hangover” (feat. Dominic Fike) and “twin.” In these tracks, JENNIE reveals how her sense of self can be shaken in her relationships with others—when she’s intoxicated by love, or surrendering herself to the words of another person. Who calls out to her, and to who she reaches out to, is unclear. Here, calling out someone’s name is less a straightforward declaration and more a fuzzy use of words that changes and distorts depending on the emotions behind it.

Over the loose, dreamy beats of “Love Hangover,” where even the very music itself feels like an emotional hangover, JENNIE doesn’t sing conclusively but as though she’s being drawn in by an unidentifiable feeling. There’s a softness, but also chaos. Her emotions speak for her, momentarily erasing any sense of where her name begins and ends. The emotions in “twin” are more definite, though, expressing deep regret and longing. Set against an acoustic guitar-driven minimalist soundscape, JENNIE sings in a way that sounds like she’s reading a letter as the lyrics stir up memories of a childhood friend. In this track, JENNIE’s name becomes “twin”—who she was back then. The way “twin” is repeated in the refrain at the end of the song shows she’s calling out, using this other name, to both herself and to her friend from long ago.

The “JENNIE” depicted on this album might in some ways seem like someone who throws herself into love and to the whims of emotion with abandon since, by accepting herself to embrace her particular emotions, she’s comfortable and confident in saying her own name, but that last part isn’t solely about self-affirmation—it’s also about having connections and showing solidarity with others, as becomes even clearer in “ExtraL” (feat. Doechii) and “Mantra.” The core of “ExtraL” is highlighted in the repeated line, “Do my ladies run this?” The song speaks to powerful women, the stage they make together, and the “big moves” they make thereon. JENNIE’s vocals are equally fluid and powerful, but Doechii proves another pillar of the track as she bursts in announcing her own name, sharpening the edges of the song with liberating lines like, “’Cause I’m not here for pleasin’ the men / Not here to reason with them.”

“ExtraL” is immediately followed by “Mantra,” which then provides the scripture for these united women. “Scripture” may sound a bit lofty, but it’s upbeat scripture. Dubbed the “pretty-girl mantra,” it’s not about how to look pretty on the outside, but women’s solidarity: keeping from getting swept up in hurtful things, staying confident, supporting other women, and more. This mantra, one that any woman can put into practice regardless of the particulars of her situation, represents the resonant voice of women everywhere, brought to the surface atop catchy hooks in each repeat of the chorus.

With “Ruby,” JENNIE has definitively established just what her presence means in the music world. It’s one thing to sing with confidence or to announce your own name in your lyrics, but it’s a rare thing to do both. When JENNIE gets the whole world excited, we see just how persuasive she can be using the power of her name—the name of a pop icon.

The name “JENNIE” embraces the vitality that makes it everlasting, but it’s also turbulent. It’s both a one-of-a-kind proper noun and a state of ever expanding outward. To have the confidence to lay yourself fully bare and to boldly assert your name aloud—that’s the power JENNIE has that resonates so strongly with her listeners. By singing along to her songs, anyone can become JENNIE. And when they do, JENNIE is all around.