FKA twigs – M3LL15X Review

FKA twigs – M3LL15X Review

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

Last year, FKA twigs (FKA stands for Formerly Known As) released her first full length LP, LP1 and gained critical success along with more of a following, which was boosted further by her relationship with the guy from Twilight that ironically hates Twilight (EDIT: Robert Pattinson is his name). It was actually T-Pain who sparked my interest in her as he tweeted about one of her EP’s and because he’s a musical genius I thought that he’d have good taste in music, and I was right. Well, he was right.

Now, her latest project entitled M3LL15X comes in the form of her third EP, though I wish that it was called EP3, akin to both EP1/2 but oh well. I’m giving myself 19 minutes to write this which is also the length of the EP. Here goes!

First we begin with Figure 8 which was premiered on Zane Lowe’s segment of Beats 1 Radio. As usual, twigs’ voice is airy and fierce at the same time and she utilises her high pitched voice as a contrast to the dark sounds, spacey sounds. There is so much going on and the way that everything works together is impressive, I imagine this is what being on drugs would be like for 3 minutes and 3 seconds with how strange and unpredictable the song is.

I’m not going to lie, it takes a lot for me to understand FKA twigs sometimes. The production sometimes overpowers her voice, or the effects on her voice, while making it an arresting listen make it more effort than it should be to listen to the lyrics. If she took Cookie Lyon’s advice and put the vocals of top of the track then I think that it would be less of a problem. I’m Your Doll sounds like it’s supposed to be sexy but it’s not. It’s a harsh sounding song which makes sense considering the lyrics “Rough me up/I’m your doll.” Which is mostly what I could catch during my listen. Just in case you were wondering, when listening to projects I prefer to hear the lyrics first hand as opposed to reading them but it can’t work all of the time I suppose.

In Time is fierce. It’s actually quite a traditional love song but from the first bass drop I was thinking, “Yeah, this song yeah. Yeah. Wheel up the tune.” The drums which cascade from left to right are maddeningly infectious. This is actually a song to be played in the rave. Then the beat changes and it goes to a whole other level. You know what, this is my favourite song. I can see myself singing this often. You know those songs that deserve to be long? This is one of those songs.

Ironically, Glass & Patron feels fragile at the beginning, and then the beat kicks in and after the initial drop where all the sounds clash it comes in sounding like a classic noughties UK based party song reminiscent of Babycakes. Twigs’ resident producer Boots is a mad genius. How can one person throw so many flavours into one song? He’s like a UK Timbaland/Kanye hybrid, and the fact that both of these people bounce so well off of each other is strong.

The last song which is Mothercreep reminds us that FKA will be with us soon. Hopefully. I’m ready for this new album now I can’t refute and this just released. When I next go to a party I want to hear this song after the first drop to fade in from Drake’s Hotline Bling. Any DJ’s who read this make it happen. It ended too soon.

All in all I think that I actually like this more than I did the album, which is always a plus because that means that as an artist she’s getting better. With the climate of music at the moment as well, FKA twigs manages to be different enough from the crowd to still be a compelling artist to listen to. My body is ready for what’s next. Listen to the EP Below!

8.7/10

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Say, What Do You Say When You Have Nothing To Say? 

Say, What Do You Say When You Have Nothing To Say? 

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams
What do you say when you have nothing to say? Literally nothing at all. You could dig the deepest parts of your mind, lifting sulcus’ and stretching them out, checking just in case for stray matters that may lay in between their wrinkles… But there’s nothing there.

What do you do with that? What can you do with that? Is it worse for a person like me, who is trying to making a living off of the use of his words than someone who’s livelihood is based off of numbers? Or is it the same for everyone. Words are the most important method of communication after all, or the most widely used let’s say.

But then again I could be wrong about that. It may actually be movement. Not just physical but business movement, and the like. Could witnessing a woman moving from lowly mail-girl to the CEO of a multi-million pound (dollar or euro, pick your poison) company say more about her than maybe, her telling the story of how she made it? I don’t know, I’m just a black man in a white world (those who know me will know this phrase gets rinsed).

Then again, physical movement probably speaks more than words now that I think about it. I was playing Uncharted 3 the other day, and I had reached the Rub’ Al Khali desert stage where you wander around for a while. Naughty Dog knows what they’re doing pertaining to character animation and so while playing I was just looking at how Nathan moved. I could tell that he was tired. Makes sense considering he’d been wandering the desert with nothing but clothes for who knows how long. But it was potent in that words were a rarity, yet I understood his struggle.

The way a drunk man staggers across the nighted, dimly lit streets you can tell that he’s licked, that he most likely has come from a pub/club/bar depending on where he is. You can probably tell that he’s either going to get more juice, or trying to get home. And all that can be procured from a man’s walk. Amazing isn’t it. I believe that the eyes are the greatest story tellers however.

Eyes are beautiful things, and I do appreciate a beautiful set that sit above the nose of a beautiful woman. But that’s another story for another time. Getting back on track, the way eyes contort, become sunken at old age or drug use. How they can become dull and lifeless, the way they give away emotions that you wanted to stay hidden from the world, and that thing where you’re talking to a person and can tell by their eyes that they’re filled with wisdom. God did a good job with them. If everything from a face had to be removed except two things, it would be the eyes and the lips. Outside of their obvious sense usage of course. I wonder how some Caucasians can cope without them sometimes.

And this marks the end of another thought haemorrhage where I’m not sure if I’ve said anything of merit. But I’m going to upload it anyway, hopefully something fruitful came of it.

Wednesday (Hope)

Wednesday (Hope)

Part 4 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

So many times I wonder,
what it means to make it.
Whether it’s deep enough
to want to fake it.
And if I do – make it,
What happens if the Lord
wants to take it.
Will I cry and emit sorrow?
Or like Job accept His will?
I only wait on infinite tomorrows,
and hope my blessings overflow. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams 

Here is the link to the previous part: Tuesday (Dream)

Tuesday (Dream)

Tuesday (Dream)

Part 3 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

I awake with dreams
on my mind.
Recollection escapes me,
trying to cling to that
one lost face
now forgotten in that
recurring dark place
I lust for after the day.
If only I could linger
just a little longer.
I feel I’ve always been stronger
at the crack of the black. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams 

Here is the link to the previous part: Monday (Eve)

Forcing Feelings?

Forcing Feelings?

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

What does it benefit the man to force feelings of empathy, apathy, hate or love? Let alone the man of God. What does it mean to force faith. Can it truly be forced? Or is it through force that ones faith is strengthened. After all, Abraham in his dying days had to force himself to take his son up to the mount and remove him from this world. This type of faith I can’t fathom. If God had spoken to me to tell me to take my sons life I would not have done it. However, if it was to take my own, that is another issue entirely.

I don’t know whether I would have peeled the skin back from my bones, removed limbs or cut out my tongue in the belief that I would have got them back in due time at the heavenly chorus of the Lords return. Or whether I have such a disdain for myself that I would have done it without cause anyway. God has done a lot for me in my time on this earth, but I take it all for granted. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I think of these blessings as hints that have just come and will eventually go, and here I stand waiting for the time for the prayers that I prayed to be answered. 

I often see or hear tales of God’s timing, and it’s perfections in the face of the imperfections of man. Then I think, is there truly a perfect time for something? If it was granted too early is it truly a bad thing? What repercussions could possibly ensue with money being put into the bank too early? A job too early. Love too early. Then there is the problem of things appearing to come too late. Love too late is the most painful of regrets. To love a woman too late is to spite oneself for never having loved her who loved you before in the height of passion. You may have taken her soul, abused her heart and now that the time is up your love for her (or him) makes a small incision; much like those small cuts surrounding the finger nails which leave dead skin raised.

Heart strings are tender things. Loving the Lord too late, now that, is a detrimental curse, if indeed it does exist. I was going to write about loving the Lord at the brink of His return, but even then surely those who loved even one second before He came down, (or up, or wherever you believe God to return from) forgiveness would be their portion and they would be returned to a better life. So no, maybe there is no such thing as loving the Lord too late, but the love of the flesh still stands.

It is entirely possible that the forcing of feelings can result in feelings stronger than those felt over a gradual period of time. Think of this as peeling a scab before the cut if fully formed. You want for your skin to be back to its form that you remove the unsightly thing, but are instead left with a blemish which lasts longer, and is perhaps even more unattractive than in its scabby state. Why would you want to do this anyway? For the image of the churches congregation? I see this often as prayers are prayed and sounds resound throughout of “MMMMH”, “AMEN” and “YES LORD” and makes me wonder whether these are their true impressions or whether it’s all game of who can make the most noise. Do they really mind whether or not the preacher goes over time as they ask “Do you want me to finish on time?”, and they reply no? I see nodded truths and what could be shaking heads of lies.

Funny how when lies are shown for what their truly are the mouth that spewed it seems to disappear. Not just the mouth but the body that accompanied it also. Either physically or in spirit. By in spirit I mean that the lying flesh rejects the fact that it lied and professes goodness from that moment on. By physical, I mean they remove themselves from the presence of people for a good while. But then there are the arrogant which stay true in their lies, whom I respect for their convictions in their falsities. It must take a strong belief in oneself to refute the fact that they are wrong without fail at every wrong turn of the road. They could say at the end, “it was a wrong road indeed, but it was my road all the same.”

This brings me to the importance of paving your own way in this life. No matter the materials you use, be it gold, brick, wood or dirt, surely it is better to say in the vein of King David, that one did not depend on another for his (or her) success (albeit God)? Begging has been lessened and takes on the name asking in this society. How many CV’s must be sent before one’s mentality becomes one of a beggar? Ask yourselves, when you’re in need what is the limit of your asking politely before you say “I’m begging you”. The need of something can bring one to beg without even really realising it. Maybe it’s better to not know than to know. It would keep dignity high I guess.

End 1.

Monday (Eve)

Monday (Eve)

Part 2 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

The eve of the weeks beginning
was mild and wet
much like the woman I lay with last night,
I labelled her with the ocean epithet,
much of her was untravelled
but I traversed her waves willingly.
Her bodily symmetry was an art piece from God,
and her hands were mellifluous,
singing my own frame songs of her travels.
I listened intently,
and remembered her melodies,
the sung to her my own,
and crafted sweet harmonies.  ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

Here is the link to the previous part: Sunday (Longing)