“Did I stutter?” she asks at one point, as a cacophony rages around her. Recalling her early experimental work, while hoovering up dance genres at will, KicK iii is imbued with a joyous sense of freedom. Rearing up from a tentative start, Arca intoning “my body, my flesh”, the song quickly morphs into a heaving, twitching apocalyptic anthem. Over the course of 12 frantic songs, she leads the listener through the volcanic dancefloor anthem of opener Bruja (“Let me see you bitches bounce!” she screams, within a cyclone of distorted synths), the head-knocking, club-ready Señorita and the album’s euphoric highlight, Ripples. Tellingly, it opens with Arca giggling “oh shit” as if half-excited, half-scared about what she’s about to unleash. While that opening salvo, which featured the likes of Rosalía and Shygirl, prodded pop into new shapes, and other albums in the series explore her more delicate side, the mutated dance music of KicK iii plays out like a violent headrush. Eighteen months later and she’s unveiled Kick ii, iii, iiii and iiiii. W hen the Venezuelan electronic music pioneer Arca released her fourth album, KiCk i, last June, she promised a flurry of followups. We get a visit from Darren Criss to talk about his new Christmas song and being apart of the Thanksgiving Day parade We wanted to hear about things your.
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