REVIEW: FKA Twigs’ Caprisongs radiates winter sunshine
This latest offering brings a mature eclecticism, with all the uniqueness Twigs is loved for, that plays with multiple genres and enjoys them for what they are
Words by Azelie Bourassa
FKA Twigs’ long awaited album is finally here and it doesn’t disappoint. Released as a mixtape, it features collabs from Unknown T, Daniel Caesar, Jorja Smith, Shygirl, Pa Salieu, The Weeknd and Rema, and effortlessly flows between themes and styles with a joy and exuberance that feels like we’re really seeing Twigs come into her own musically. It feels like an evolution from Magdalene (2019) which was more tightly focussed and serious in a way, Caprisongs feels more playful and light. It’s different as well from her earlier, slightly more experimental works, though you can hear many of the stylistic features coming through. It’s as if she knows her medium, her tools well and now is just playing with it, bringing in whatever elements feel right. She’s having fun with it and you can tell. This latest offering brings a mature eclecticism, with all the uniqueness Twigs is loved for, that plays with multiple genres, enjoying them for what they are. She dances between musical styles without losing her signature sound, making use of her classical training, as well as rap and creatively modulated vocals.
There’s a layering to the songs which gives a collage effect, and you can see how much care and attention she puts into every aspect of the work, there’s nothing that feels lazy or predictable about each song, there’s so much sophistication that you can keep unwrapping and revisiting them. The production from El Guincho (who also did 645AR’s Sum Bout You which features FKA Twigs) is strong, and no doubt his skills are contributing to the magic in Caprisongs too, with an ethereal, cosmic bassiness. The hyper-referencing comes across in the music videos too, jealousy brings in y2k nostalgia with a 4:3 aspect ratio and 00s r&b white green screen (which I didn’t know was missing from my life).
The album has a special significance after the musician spoke out about her experience of intimate partner abuse last year. The mixtape isn’t really about that, at least not explicitly, but why should it be? But just the fact that you can go from that situation to creating a piece of art, the way you want it, is a powerful thing. Witnessing this creative output coming from someone who’s been to such a dark, isolating place, is amazing. For me, I know this is going to be up there among my favourite albums, acting as a well that can be tapped into for wisdom and support whenever needed.