FKA Twigs - LP1

The very moment that our eyes and ears stumbled across the video for Water Me - which I am assuming is your same introduction to FKA Twigs that I had - there was the immediate connection in our heads that this bug-eyed girl was going to be pretty big. The problem with such eye-watering, word-of-mouth debut videos from alt-pop artists is that, more often than not, they turn out to be pretty contrived gimmicks.

With LP1, the creatively titled debut from Tahliah Barnett, that's thankfully not the case. Whilst she's not without controversy in her personal life, the first full-length glimpse into her talents and direction expose no such flaws and bullshit.

A favourable and kind comparison would be that same feeling I got listening to my first Grimes album (Visions - I've still yet to trace further back in that particular history): right down to the bewitching little intro of 'Preface'. That shaky, angelic voice will go on to flesh out the album in more beguiling ways but as a little teaser of what's to come, it's fair warning. The producers and co-writers may well come in and throw in a little twist to her narrative but it's Barnett's vocal and centre-stage presence that ties the whole record together: take the buzzing, jolted 'Lights On' from Yeezus' producer Arca, and its frank, refreshing take on intimacy and relationships ("You'll be the first one to find the shadows that make the girl you undo") that serve as the more spiritual flip of the coin to Beyonce's current love of sex and the ownership of sexuality (not a problem, but not a full representation of herself) and its general value permeating just about everyone's lyrics at the moment - including Barnett's own. Take 'Two Weeks', the stand-out single and vocal masterclass that promises "I can fuck you better than her" and paints FKA Twigs as this consuming, powerful drug over her ex - its sign-off is "you're mine".

Alt-pop's current reigning god Devonte Hynes lends his hand to 'Hours' and - as seen in his Sky Ferreira or Solange productions - paints a subtly hazy, sunny glaze into the synths and chiming percussion of the track, which - let's face it - could just about work for anyone let alone the already convincing opiate that is Barnett's falsetto. Water Me didn't make the album, but a pretty solid replacement for its rattling, "someone knocking on the window" beat emerges in 'Pendulum', an unusually hollow and dark production from caterer-to-the-stars Paul Epworth that eventually builds into this James Blakeish wall of insecure ("so lonely trying to be yours") lashing out. And, speaking of the merger between mega-producers and lesser-celebrated indie ones, let's tuck into the career-contemplative 'Video Girl', where Barnett alludes to her work as a backing dancer in many a music video, wishing to be the main attraction ("trying to make a stand for the main squeeze") but being told to know her place ("you're gonna get yourself broke one day"). She ends with "I can't recognize me", perhaps a crisis of confidence, perhaps a barbed taunt at those who just called her "the girl from that video".

Fellow BBC Sound of 2014 nominee (who actually made the top five of the shortlist and then went on to...release nothing by himself...) Sampha appears on 'Numbers', a relatively straightforward gripe with being just another notch in the ex's (who most of, if not all of, this album is about) bedpost, but 'Closer' at least offers some form of closure to that torment - sounding noticeably happier, with its gorgeous little electronic blips and beeps whizzing around like little cartoon cupids. She's certainly perservering: on 'Give Up' she's determined to struggle through old arguments and problems ("looking like I'll keep it now - I made the cut") and she bows out with the implication that she doesn't need anyone else at all ("I'll make my own damn way"), and all sorts of other implications that I should probably not write for fear of this not being a family blog.

I mentioned above Grimes' Visions: the last album I remember making me feel the same way as this one does. Like it, LP1 has this minimalist, empty middle-of-the-night feeling; unlike it, it's mostly coherent and concerned with more than sounding cute. There are hundreds of examples of contemporary musicians reinjecting life into the once stagnant R&B genre, but few stand out quite as much as FKA twigs: LP1 is a justified hit. I eagerly await more.

Rating: 9/10
Highlights: Video Girl; Two Weeks; Pendulum; Lights On; Give Up
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: I cannot be flippant about this one; it is lovely and I cherish it
For fans of: Sade, Mariah Carey without the drama, Grimes, eyes
Up next: Clark