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EUSEXUA- FKA Twigs

EUSEXUA is the latest offering of music with a mission to push a self-made philosophy onto

the audience. Avant-garde maestro FKA twigs coined the word ‘Eusexua’ to define what is

basically the pinnacle of human experience, the climax of inspiration, effortless presence

and an undeniable freedom. She has now returned from her half-decade orbit around the

sun with her third LP, stated with a new outlandish close-up of her face for us all to wonder

how she’ll wholly explain Eusexua to us.



We have been trusting this new sentiment of hers since the release of the title track back in

September. She proposes it, “The way that we transcribe it can change the course of time”,

following along a trance of minimalistic psychedelia. It’s extremely delicate like the attention

she demands you pay, like a spider slowly crawling around your ear. This could be

considered some of her creepiest and abstractedly dominating work since 2016’s

M3LL155X. Later on, she stepped into the 2000s-pop throwback room with Perfect Stranger.

This was a sci-fi-themed clapback at what has been a difficult decade being observed in the

public eye for her difficult relationships. She asserts herself in a new confidence for the sake

of intimacy, only as itself; no personality attached except her own. She told the final secret of

'Eusexua' in November with Drums of Death. The telephone glitches vibrating across the

entire soundscape sound like an advertisement to her cause with Koreless’ upbeat and

convincing force. It claps, it’s harsh, it’s hard to miss and impossible to ignore. Her voice

dances along as she states slogans for the term, such as “Devour the entire world, fuck it,

make it yours. Do it just for fun.”


If you have been watching EUSEXUA unfold before the grand reveal, I don’t think you would

have been expecting a pivot to throwbacks and tasteful referencing for the rest of the album,

whether that be to her inspirations or to herself. This album proceeds as if she is rewriting

her story and imagining herself in a different world where ‘Eusexua' had run through her

psyche since the beginning.


Girl Feels Good is a solid tribute to Ray of Light-era Madonna, deep in an ocean of sonorous

synths, booming you backwards into a corner where the 90s hasn’t ended yet. Hypnotising

enough to drift the motion of your eyelids, she sings with an aim to disassemble her men just

like Madonna would - “Beautiful boys, I wish you knew how precious you are. Your mother’s,

sister’s, lover’s heart is where there’s healing.” Room of Fools then emulates Björk’s vocal

command; caroling, protesting and belting over a glorious gallop of crystallised house, just

like the Debut we know and love. Her raw affirmation of “It feels nice” ties the nostalgia all

together.



The next two tracks add extra layers to the sounds of her previous work. Sticky goes back to

square one at 2016’s Good to Love, where she yearns for a power in her vulnerability and

ability to forgive herself over a dramatically quiet backdrop. She has long-time fans cheering

from the reference to Lights On in the first verse. Her adlibs bounce on a glossy floor that

only gets colder at a rapid velocity. Her emotional wishes creep up on you until the bigger

ball of bass-broken industrial synth hits you in the face like a jumpscare, just as you were

veering away from her spiral. Keep It, Hold It is reminiscent of 2019's MAGDALENE as a

metallic harp manipulates the depiction of her inner voice to sound sent by an angel. There

are still touches of floorboard creaks and whispers from twigs that are just as mean to the

spine as thousand eyes was. She then lets out a war cry we have not heard since fallen

alien over a classic but slowly-decaying dance beat - making “Sometimes I feel like I’m not

even trying” sound like a life-ending offence.


Childlike Things takes a very unexpected turn to an electronic translation of baroque pop

with quirky cheers and joyful piano notes, also accompanied by a verse by North West in

Japanese. The “da da da”s can predict the looping echolalia in the listeners head if they

continue to listen to this sunshine-lollipop-rainbow playfulness.



The final three tracks are a rocket launch into more spaced-out territory. Striptease is the

climax of her character. She sings euphorically drunk at the verse and monologues the

seduction in her openness through a throbbing of R&B production that keeps on flourishing.

24hr Dog intensifies where the previous track left off, opening a silver gate into a purgatory

of beeping. The production is a prospered callback to Water Me as she embraces her

physical vessel where it is soulfully pursued and not rejected like before. The reverb in her

vocals hoard all sensuality to herself as she melodically pants like a dog; ultimately

intensifying, yet purifying this locus of passion. The closing track Wanderlust follows the

format of thank you song, opening with unfiltered lyricism and delivery. She states

wanderlust as her final demand in the style of opera that sends storms from the voice box of

an enchantress. There’s a rare tint of guitar that we never hear from twigs. Several different

sounds flow through this track, equally wishing you well at curtain call as you take the

teachings of ‘Eusexua’ with you.


As inspired by her introduction to rave culture, FKA twigs’ experimentalism in electronica

stands as firm as it always has in this new environment. Her interpretations of her

discoveries for a new project can always be trusted. All of the references to other works do

not deny her innovation that has the message of EUSEXUA stuck in your head. It seems

almost every song loosely plays with switch-ups, pushing the listener forward each time as a

sensual strike from the true excitement poured into this album.


Elias Serghi


 

Edited by Alice Beard

Images courtesy of FKA Twigs on Facebook, video courtesy of FKA Twigs on Youtube

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