KeiyaA - Forever, Ya Girl

Written by Nathan Evans

Solange’s When I Get Home is a record that has stuck to my side since it first graced us in 2019. Its repetitious and outlandish take on soul music is a hazy, almost cyclical experience, and it is called into mind on every listen of KeiyaA’s debut record, Forever, Ya Girl. Admittedly, the comparison is hollow and somewhat reductive, as these records rarely bump into each other on their travels (Forever, Ya Girl comparatively lurks deeper in the trenches). Rather, they both represent a growing sector of abstract neo-soul that brings power to femininity, and strength to the colour of their skin.

KeiyaA’s sonic identity, though not without its influences, stands tall and alone, unafraid to bring homegrown sounds to a genre whose greatest records have for too long baked in the limelight as exemplars of high-fidelity music. The frayed horn sample and bit-crushed drums on ‘Rectifya’ urge neo-soul into a more psychedelic direction, looping like a faint memory captured from an intoxicated daydream. These tracks see her effortlessly burning candles at both ends, hopping from tight hip-hop-paced beats (‘I! Gits! Weary!’) to a heavily inebriated take on soul music (‘I Want My Things!’). These instrumental stylings allow her performances to be immersed in the shadows of these sound chambers, without feeling swallowed up or absent.

The album’s design shares similar properties to its cover art; otherwise pristine arrangements brushed with smudged colours and supple hand-made strokes. Little blemishes and analogue disfigurements that pull from the burgeoning Lo-NY scene that houses artists such as Standing on the Corner and MIKE, who even provides production via his DJ Blackpower alias. Observe the woozy pitch controlling on ‘A Mile, A Way’ for long enough, and it could be enough to send your head spinning - same story for the bandy synths on the most beguiling ballad on here, ‘Hvnli’. Her toying with what is considered ‘wrong’ even extends to the way she spells and enunciates track titles, offering a layer of suspense that prevents one from immediately gauging the narrative just from names alone.

And that narrative unfurls into a rough tug-of-war between KeiyaA’s needs and wants, and an unidentified foe that purposefully ignites ambiguity. It’s no coincidence that nearly every lyric that one can find to be directed at a lover, can also be applied to the oppressive American system that keeps her race in a state of submission. “Get your boot off my neck so we can progress / You cannot just access me with a check / Maybe you need to reflect so you and me can progress”.

Though vocally, KeiyaA’s lowercase singing sits far behind the keys and drums, at times to the point of detriment, her unapologetic demeanour still shimmers through, handing herself over with no frills while still transmitting ways to be poetic and vulnerable. Though she could go further into deconstruction of neo-soul to really split the atom open, what’s here is delectable. Her inner turmoils and outer-world struggles drain out of her, slithering into the grooves of this record, from a voice that could colour the dusty smog of an early-hours jazz club, with shades of desire, desperation and determination.

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