Doechii has never shied away from spectacle, but the breakout star’s latest visual pushes her creativity into exhilarating new territory. “Anxiety”—already the Tampa‑raised artist’s first top‑10 hit thanks to its savvy flip of Gotye and Kimbra’s 2011 smash “Somebody That I Used to Know”—now arrives with a full‑blown short‑film that matches the song’s nervous pulse with imagery as lavish as it is unsettling.
Directed by frequent collaborator James Mackel, the five‑minute clip opens on a sly wink to day‑one fans: Doechii reclines beneath the same tie‑dyed tapestry that backdropped her 2020 “COVEN Music Session,” where an early version of “Anxiety” first surfaced. In that stripped‑down performance the song felt confessional, almost whispered; here the calm lasts seconds before masked intruders hoist the singer—dressed in a pristine white Miu Miu bralette—out of bed and into the marble foyer of a palatial mansion. The home’s chandeliers glitter, but something is immediately off‑kilter, and the video never lets viewers regain their footing.
A mansion descending into madness
As Doechii prowls room to room, the estate morphs into a living metaphor for runaway thoughts. A blazing kitchen fire goes ignored by dinner‑party guests. Twin girls, straight out of The Shining, sit motionless beside a toppled vase. A Doberman growls in the hallway; an elephant lumbers through a game room strewn with confetti. By the time a late‑night flash mob erupts in the ballroom, the mansion’s opulence feels claustrophobic—exactly the point for a track that frames anxiety as both glamorous and suffocating.
Cinematographer Shane Hurlbut bathes each tableau in saturated reds and sickly greens, while Mackel’s whip‑pan edits mimic the jittery syncopation of Doechii’s flow. The singer’s performance anchors the chaos: one moment dead‑eyed and numb, the next snarling lines like “Since I was seventeen / I gave you everything” with almost operatic anguish.
Midway through, the camera swings to reveal Gotye and Kimbra themselves, framed against the geometric body‑paint backdrop of their original “Somebody That I Used to Know” video. The cameo isn’t mere nostalgia bait; it underlines how Doechii has reframed a pop classic about heartbreak into a generational anthem about mental pressure. Other blink‑and‑miss nods include a shattered gold compact—echoing the Swamp Princess’s “Persuasive” era—and a brief appearance by choreographer Fullout Cortland, who marshals the ballroom dancers into a frenzied kick‑line.
Symbolism over storyline
Rather than impose a tidy plot, Doechii leans into impressionistic storytelling. That choice replicates the lived experience of anxiety: nonlinear, hypersensory, occasionally absurd. By the climactic bridge, burglars, ballerinas and circus animals crowd a single frame, lit by strobing camera flashes that feel like paparazzi or panic attacks. When the beat cuts out, Doechii collapses in the mansion’s emptied pool, mouthing the final “What was that?” as water rains down—an echo of the drip motif from her she/her/black bitch artwork.
With “Anxiety,” Doechii not only celebrates a chart milestone but signals her next creative phase. She has long balanced rap dexterity with art‑school eccentricity; this video unites both impulses under blockbuster production values. It also reinforces her knack for world‑building: every visual, from the MIU MIU couture to the smoldering sconces, feels placed with curator precision.
Industry buzz already pegs Doechii as a future festival headliner, and “Anxiety” makes that trajectory feel inevitable. It is the rare music video that rewards rewatching—each chaotic vignette another clue to decode—and cements its creator as a storyteller who refuses to blunt her edges for mainstream comfort.
“Anxiety” is streaming now on YouTube and Vevo, while the single continues its climb on global charts. If this is the level of ambition Doechii brings to a standalone release, her forthcoming full‑length debut promises nothing short of cinematic.
Brace yourself: the Swamp Princess is steering straight into the storm, and she wants you to feel every jolt.
