FKA twigs has never maintained the ordinary. “Where are the thinkers?” she asked earlier this year during a keynote conversation for Resident Advisor, an electronic music community. Despite being tormented on social media for this claim, which was perceived as pretentious, perhaps FKA twigs had a point. twigs asserted that society is too focused on passive consumption and lacks critical reflection in a world dominated by short-form content; she believes genuine contemplation is absent. Earlier this year, she was ready to challenge her arbitrary declarations with the release of “Eusexua,” an experimental, genre-bending opus. The Grammy-nominated “Eusexua” explores the momentum leading up to a powerful experience, such as the clarity of a pure idea or sexual freedom. Presently, however, twigs is ready to further challenge the disorientation and self-reflection she yearned to locate in “Eusexua.”
Enter “EUSEXUA Afterglow,” twigs’ recent follow-up album that puts a euphoric night out at the club and its unfiltered aftermath on display. “I feel vulnerable here, and that’s sexy,” twigs vocalizes in an evocative social media post upon the album’s release, in which she further narrates “Afterglow” as the chaos in perfection. twigs places the two albums as sisters. Where the early “Eusexua” explores the buildup to a high-powered experience, “Afterglow” explores its fallout, detailing encounters associated with coming down from a high, moments of loneliness, emotional hunger and sensual connections to both strangers and loved ones.
The physical transition between the two albums is distinguished at the beginning of the first track, “Love Crimes,” where twigs details repeated heartbreak within an ambient setting. Suddenly intense, cryptic bass escapes from the background, throwing the audience into the middle of an astonishing rave dance floor. “You don’t understand / I had to let you go,” twigs repeats as high-energy, hypnotic production floods your ears. Immediately, twigs forgets the build-up explored in “Eusexua” and instead throws the listener straight into her shared elation.
The following song, “Slushy,” drops the previous fast-paced club setting and instead flows the listener through the wind out of a car sunroof. twigs uses the image of a slushy to symbolize simple pleasures, using her imagination to create a positive reality amidst life’s challenges. The production is dreamy, deconstructed and alien-like, reminiscent of the chilling album cover.
“I think being famous is funny,” twigs strides in the hyper, catchy collaboration track, “Wild and Alone,” with PinkPantheress. This pop banger mixes a typical Jersey-club sample with uncanny electronic movement that makes you want to dance. PinkPantheress and twigs detail the loneliness associated with being in the spotlight, specifically how even being constantly surrounded by people can assert a sense of isolation. They glide over lighthearted, bumpy beats, encapsulating the presence of isolation even within large social events, such as a party.
The next tune, “HARD,” sets off with an ethereal, frutiger aero-reminiscent sound before placing a metallic-like drum overtop. This four-on-the-floor, jivey rhythm sees twigs effortlessly navigate through the recording, where she discusses the intersection of physical desire and emotional uncertainty in a relationship. This piece is twigs at her best: emotionally vulnerable while maintaining thrilling production, trapping the listener in her unique “Eusexua” world. The music video for “HARD” pictures twigs losing herself within sand-swept choreography inside a black-and-white filtered desert, a representation of twigs reclaiming her body after trauma.
twigs follows “HARD” with the album’s quirky single: “Cheap Hotel.” Production-wise, “Cheap Hotel” follows the crash from a high. The introduction is quick, groovy and crushingly spiritual as distorted vocals hastily slide through wavy synths. Then, it slows down into an absorbing, cavernous dub. Practically, this song is evocative of the theoretical after-party twigs would host following a loopy night out at the club. Picture twigs positioned around a kitchen marble countertop at 4 a.m., lecturing her closest companions as “Cheap Hotel” plays distantly from the other room. Lyrically, the piece traces a night where twigs and her friends party while using a stolen credit card, placing them within surreal, and often intimate, moments inside a “cheap hotel.”
Skillfully, twigs refuses to lose her momentum throughout the remainder of the album. “Touch A Girl” sees twigs slowing down the tempo, while still including snippets of intense maneuvers and deep production. Its enticing melody traps the listener in a world of the frustration of a one-sided relationship, where one partner only desires physical intimacy without a deeper emotional connection. “Predictable Girl” presents sensual, autotuned moans, skittish rhythms and mutated vocals. The chorus is purposely difficult to follow, allowing the listener to get lost within its individualized whisper-and-bass sounds while whirling to the song’s frantic production. “Piece of Mine” is smooth and sophisticated; twigs bounces within the cracks of subtle glitches and synths as an original composition of rap-like vocals slide in the background.
The high point of the album arrives as a five-minute ballroom chant titled “Sushi.” The first half of the track features a steady, danceable beat, typical of twigs’ music. She proclaims the spontaneous, carefree joy of a week-long relationship, detailing fun, pleasure-seeking activities, such as karaoke or getting sushi. The second half of the track transforms into a vibrant, vogue house anthem, seeing twigs at both her most joyful and artistically visionary. This New York City ballroom-inspired conclusion has a vigorously crafted production that engrosses the audience within twigs’ world of floating DJ mixes and glimmering, carefree attitude—a freeing escape and a glaring career highlight.
The final piece of the album, “Stereo Boy,” is twigs at her most emotional state. She details the pain of a disconnected relationship, using the metaphor of static on a radio as a representation of emotional disconnection and unavailability. This shattering ballad sees a blend of droning and chiming guitar arpeggios upon glitching electronic synths. twigs’ vocals are purposely disengaged and mundane; the soaring sensations of the party have collapsed, and she is forced to face the realities of her existence.
“EUSEXUA Afterglow” is daring, but none other than twigs could take on a feat of advanced electronic beats dispersed inside a hazy, sometimes sensual emotional comedown. twigs has certainly found her golden spot sonically, and her confidence is dazzling. With “Afterglow,” FKA twigs proves she can chase joy without losing her edge—an album that is electric, polished and still somehow stops “to think.”