Connector Staff
In the past year especially, the term “alternative R&B” has been no stranger to coffeehouse chatter. Much like in the case of the recent “emo revival”, some listeners happily embraced the freshness of something that’s new to them while others (usually with noses skyward) preach its uncredited history that has apparently always existed on an “underground” level. Regardless of how you decide to label it, the recent surge in contemporary R&B music is something to be excited about.
By her early twenties, Tahliah Barnett (nicknamed Twigs because of how loudly she could crack her joints) had carved her name into the art-performance scene of Central London. Her young talents ran the gamut from backup dancing, appearing alongside Kylie Minogue, Taio Cruz, Jessie J and Ed Sheeran, to filmmaking, eventually being signed as an upper-roster director of London based production company Academy Films. This flair for visual performance played an important role in Twigs’ inevitable 2012 musical debut, “EP1”, as well as its follow-up counterpart, “EP2”, both of which were released with accompanying music videos. Being twice the length of her prior releases, last year’s aptly named “LP1” seemed more aimed at musical accessibility rather than visual effect. In her latest effort, however, Twigs seems to have found a safe middle ground between both pillars of her style.
I cannot help but be reminded of the Wagnerian concept of Gesamtkunstwerk or “total synthesis of the arts” after being faced with FKA Twigs’ new Beyoncé-style surprise 5-track, “Melissa” (stylized as “M3LL155X”). With its 16 minute video accompaniment, she conjures up a profoundly immersive musical experience which seems to lend itself equally to art-pop, noise rock, trip-hop and R&B. In Twigs’ case though, genre definition feels more like name calling.
The EP showcases everything we have come to know and love about the fledgling artist including glitchy, unmetered percussive swells, whispered spoken-word passages coupled with violent surges of synth fuzz and vocal processing that would inspire most engineers to scratch their heads. This release in particular highlights Twigs’ fascination with extending the “sonic pallet” of the recording studio. Many of the drones and samples featured on the record, for example, are actually different hi-hat attacks slowed down and manipulated into distinguishable tones and pitches. Unlike the heft of her previous releases, the production “M3LL155X” is generally more sinister than it is sweet, with dark spirals of percussion loops and ominous tonal storm clouds bound to spew thunder at any moment.
Twig’s vocals are also heard more confidently and clearly than ever. “Everyday, everyday you be testing my sane, you’ve got a goddamn nerve,’’ she croons on “In Time” as if rallying troops from behind a megaphone. Lyrically, the songs are as complex as their musical backdrops, weaving together a thematic tapestry of femininity, power, sexuality and purpose. “I wait all week for a moments break away from being told who I am” she wails in the more club-friendly prerelease, “Glass and Patron.”
“M3LL155X” is a mantra suitable for the dance floor as much as it is for the study-hall. It is as entrancing as it is challenging. Either way, Twigs holds absolutely nothing back on this release, and thankfully so.
