Arca - KiCk i

June 26, 2020 - XL

Arca née Alejandra Ghersi is here with the first of a proposed four part series of albums. KiCk i explores the artist’s journey through non-binaryism and physical transition to female-hood through ruthlessly experimental and convergent electronica.

The first song, ‘Nonbinary,’ pings and pongs with wet metallic percussion. It’s a round atmospheric sound that leads one to believe aggression is imminent. Ghersi comes in hot, rapping, “I do what I wanna do when I wanna do it/Bitch, I got the bags to prove it.” The delivery is fast-paced and has a hint of a Busta Rhymes flow. Then the cadence slows and we’re on the listener’s side of a conversation in which Ghersi tells us we’re indebted to her but we don’t know her. It’s easy enough to imagine this from a spectator's point-of-view. And if you’re within the trans world yourself, it may be that for you.  

But what I get here is an image of me cheering, saying “yeah, tell 'em how much they owe you.” I get swept up in the voracity. I say “take them down,” only to hear the audience go quiet, because it’s me that she’s telling. It’s those of us who consume these products, should we make the mistake of thinking that this is the same as immersing ourselves in the culture from whence the art came. No doubt, it is partial immersion, a toe-dip. Yet, it is still media I’m digesting comfortably from within my bubble, which I keep searching for ways to break before getting distracted again by the bubble itself. ‘Nonbinary’ is a bit of an alarm clock. Ghersi closes out the track with a repeated line, “Speak for your self-states,” which she discusses as an operating point, much like a mood. Ghersi says, “bitch, don’t put your shit on me.” The album is heavy with identity philosophy. 

‘Time’ is more lighthearted. Rosebush synths open up the track and an airy vocal establishes a bright major chord. It’s a welcome reprieve from the aggression of ‘Nonbinary.’ The elements of ‘Time’ are few and harmonious. In her interview with Apple Music, Ghersi says the essence of this track is “about self-care, running that bubble bath as long as you want to...really stretch and indulge, because that’s weirdly part of the homeostasis of being able to be productive and fertile.” But the lyrics are ambiguous enough that it’s easy to internalize and personalize the words with any sort of desire. It’s an airy, easy-listening, restorative track. 

‘Mequetrefe,’ is a whip back into a harder-stepping reggaeton. The title translates to “whipper-snapper,” or a similar sentiment of a young inexperienced person with a little too much confidence. The song breaks with light string plucks and unobtrusive fast-beat percussion and features Ghersi’s modulated voice hovering in the thin stratum between human and robotic. The fabric of ‘Mequetrefe,’ is highly variable, with textures bridging the gap between reggaeton and fast-paced IDM which has Ghersi repeating “Igua, iguali, igualito,” or “equality.” Portions of the song continually fall away and redouble with higher-intensity or more fragmented forms.

In ‘Riquiquí,’ we find Ghersi exploring language much the same way she explores and crafts sounds. The lyrics are more about what can be done with the phonetics than about stringing together meaning through disparate images, though a mantra does appear in the refrain, “Degenerate to generate heat in the light/Love in the face of fear/Fear in the face of God.” The instrumentation is squared and droning with aggressive percussion and vocal presence. 

Switching between linguistic and sonic experiments like ‘Riquiquí’ and obtuse love songs like ‘Calor,’ Ghersi explores identity in her transitioned form. Along her journey she finds and further explores nuance with assistance from powerful singers like Björk, ROSALÍA, Shygirl, and SOPHIE. Though some songs, like ‘Time,’ have a straightforward and easily-digested mood, most tracks are emotionally complex and ambiguous. ‘Watch,’ featuring Shygirl is a bad-behavior track about having sex willy-nilly and has a lot of satisfying gun-cocking sounds. The elements are reminiscent of dub-step without the classic wub-wub drop. ‘Rip the Slit’ is similarly violent in tone and texture, but ultimately conveys a story of liberation.  

The remainder of the album has much of the same (variety) to offer. Continually, elements of music are warped and transformed into surprising new sounds. Anyone looking for a classic progression will be dizzied and unnerved. Each piece subverts and eludes as it unfolds. As in much of her music, the depth and satisfaction lie in the detail of the sound-craft more than in the arc of the song structures. ⛰️

Listen to KiCk i on Spotify. Arca · Album · 2020 · 12 songs.