Kaya Wilkins, also known as Okay Kaya, explores depression, love, sex, death, and boredom on her album Watch This Liquid Pour Itself. That’s not to say the album is a bleak bore. It’s quirky, catchy, clever, and intriguing.
“Baby Little Tween” has Wilkins flat-out telling her lover she’ll eventually get tired of having sex with him and wondering if her anti-depressants will shut down her libido altogether. The electro beats behind the track are slow jam-sexy, however, so it seems that Wilkins is getting busy while she can. “Ascend and Try Again” is Wilkin’s blueprint for reducing stress and staying in the moment as she sings about breath control atop simple acoustic and bass guitar chords.
The lazy beats of “Insert Generic Name” reinforce Wilkins’ sexy croon as she sings about how it sucks to be someone’s girlfriend and the “center of resentment in your harem.” “Anything could happen at any given time, no wonder I’m overstimulated,” Wilkins sings on “Overstimulated.” It’s a Velvet Underground-like song about her being fascinated by her lover, but it could as easily be a song about ADHD. “Psych Ward” would be a major Pixies hit in another reality, but Wilkins beat them to it as she sings witty lyrics about her own experiences in treatment (“You can peel an orange however you please in the psych ward…”) while her backing band puts down a wicked groove.
“Guttural Sound” is a dream-like track about the dangers of looking forward to a future that might not, and probably won’t, happen. It also skewers hipsters (“I desperately want to be thirty-something, on my way to the nearest AA meeting.” / “In the dog park, have a discussion on which Brita filter is the best one.”). “Asexual Being,” in which Wilkins admits that “sex with me is mediocre, but I can probably feel what you’re feeling.”, has house music bass encouraging you to get down and at least entertain the idea of being okay with mediocre sex and Netflix and ice cream. “Popcorn Heart” is as tender as a 1950’s ballad and perfect for your kid’s prom slow dance playlist.
The bass groove, beats, and piano of “Mother Nature’s Bitch” make it sound like a lost Fleetwood Mac cut. “Hallelu Ya Hallelu Me” is another dreamy track, this one about obession (“It’s so creepy. I think of you instead of eating or sleeping.”). “Symbosis” has Wilkins comparing herself and her lover to algae while weird synths shift around in the background. It’s not unlike a Gary Wilson song. In fact, Ms. Wilkins and Mr. Wilson would probably make a great album together because they love singing about and exploring the same themes – love, loneliness, romance, kissing, and obsession.
The cleverly titled “Givenupitis” is a lovely slow-funk slap upside the head of apathetic people who are so attached to their IDGAF attitude that they’ve lost connections with nearly everyone around them. The lyrics for “Helsevesen” are in Norwegian (the title translates to “health service”), and the song has an echoing, icy quality to it that befits the Norwegian landscape. The electro beats and bass of “Stonethrow” produce the most danceable track on the record as Wilkins worries that she’s “becoming what the kids these days call insecure.” Wilkins’ voice goes low for “Zero Interaction Ramen Bar” while she sings about being alone in a bright, yet dreary place with nothing and no one to console her apart from booze, tasteless dumplings, and her own thoughts.
This is one of those records that’s perfect for the right mood. It’s hard to determine what that mood is, as it will be different for everyone, but that shows how good of a songwriter Wilkins is. She has crafted an album that will resonate with different listeners in different ways. That’s no easy task.
Keep your mind open.
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