megiapa got her start messing around on turntables with her brother. He introduced her to sampling when they were kids, and together they’d make songs inspired by rap radio, finding their voices through mimicry and play. megiapa retained that sense of childlike wonder as she started producing and recording alone, developing a style that emphasizes whimsy and improvisation. Her wobbly, coruscating tracks feel more performed than programmed, the jangly rhythms and smeared melodies constantly drifting off-course. “Scandinavianswimmers,” from her 2016 EP (parenthesis), is icy and fluid, the backbeat eroding as megiapa chips at it with chimes, wordless croons, and beatboxing. The fringes of R&B, IDM, and jazz are her playground.
On Intentions, her first album with avant-garde label International Anthem, megiapa expands on the frisky, nocturnal sound she’s been refining since her days playing shows with fellow experimentalists like Makaya McCraven and Ben Lamar Gay. Backed by collaborators from the Chicago and Los Angeles beat and jazz scenes, she embellishes her soulful electronica with layers of percussion, vocals, and instruments. The polyrhythmic songs, which are almost entirely self-produced, land somewhere between funk and downtempo, Donald Byrd and Bonobo, carried by megiapa’s cool harmonies and slick transitions. The fuller arrangements reintroduce the bedroom producer as a bandleader, and showcase her casual fluidity.
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megiapa takes a flip approach to threading R&B and electronic music. Most blends of the genres over the past decade have positioned the club and the bedroom as their shared temples. Sudan Archives, FKA twigs, and Kelela have especially harnessed this connection, their distinct strains of body music closely attuned to the ways the dancefloor and the mattress can heighten or strain intimacy. For megiapa, the touchpoint between the genres is dreams. Love seems to transport her out of her body, piano chords and drum machines spiriting her to worlds unknown.
That’s the case on the Afrofuturistic “( ( on the spaceway ) ),” a ditty guided by soft chants and a steady kickdrum. “Here and there we find the meaning of/All the things that we were dreaming of,” megiapa sings, a space tourist on the ultimate vacation. She often turns to celestial imagery. Her first words on the album are, “I’ve been floating sideways/Through my eyes I see the sunlight,” a couplet she delivers with reverent awe, like an astronaut catching their first orbital view of the Earth. The beat, by Los Angeles producer 10.4 ROG, is just as rapturous, folding a springy bassline, bright keys, and snappy drums into a warm groove. “Black Gold of the Sun” is more psychedelic, its hazy drums, steelpan melodies, and smudged vocals invoking a fire circle. “I am the black gold of the sun,” megiapa repeats, affirming her connection to nature. The song builds to a rousing dance of flute trills, jazz scats, vocal harmonies, and airy pads. It feels like she’s dissolving into the universe.
The record isn’t all stargazing, though. The reverie breaks on “Can’t Believe,” where megiapa realizes she’s invested in a doomed relationship. “I can’t believe what I wanted,” she chants in shame, her awe directed inward rather than to the sky. Her cover of ’70s soul group the Blackbyrds’ “Dreaming About You” is just as crestfallen. The original is all seduction, coaxing a crush with pillow talk and smooth rhythms. megiapa’s version crawls rather than struts, the smoldering arrangement mired in longing. It’s a requiem instead of a siren song, painfully aware that an imagined romance will remain just that—a fantasy. Moments like these ballast megiapa’s earnestness, pulling the record back down to earth.
