Kwamie Liv has long enveloped a sound that carries depth and warmth, yet it is her charming, and often mystical, ability to warp and bend dark pop to her own ends that makes her debut album such an intriguing prospect.
Lovers That Come And Go is an album that deliberately takes you on an emotional journey, whereby the Danish-Zambian singer amplifies the pain of the lows as much as the ecstasy of the highs. By utilising shimmering synths, a frequently mesmerising darkness and affecting the air of an artist who is totally in control of her craft, she tells her tale of life and its lessons and draws you closely into her world.
There are moments on the record where it feels as though Kwamie Liv has directly transported you into the other side of a looking-glass that sits within her very own chamber. On songs such as the seductive “Blasé” you are on the outside looking in, but you get the chance to have a rare and intimate glimpse into the elusive artist’s innermost desires. The lust sits heavy on the articulately-woven beats that demand low lighting and the early hours of the morning. Furthermore, the way the song is then perfectly followed by the lightness of previous single “Follow My Heart” is clever and well thought out, creating a moment for the desires of the heart to ring out.
“Palm Tree Jungle” echoes in with a Lana del Rey-esque drama, where scarce beats and Kwamie’s token mythical vocals are at their height of their powers, before completely switching gear half way through the track. This switch of gear plays a key part in the album, marking the next turn that it takes, marking out how the songs almost act as chapters that all have their own story to tell.
“Look What I’ve Done” pulls through the heartbreak after the highs of the lust, and instead finds a place of self-acceptance, surprisingly underlined by a Western tinge that feels far removed from the stripped-back dark R&B predecessors on the album. “Deep Water” and “Last Night” feel a bit lost in the midst of all this, yet Kwamie Liv eventually finds her pace again with the scintillating excitement of the infectious “Mama’s a Millionaire”, arguably one of the album’s highlights.
Kwamie Liv has already described the album as an “embodiment of the last few years: a reflection of things I've lost or left behind, things I'm still holding on to and moments I have dreamt of or imagined”, and it does feel very much like treading through her footsteps and understanding what she has been through. Yet, for all its deep-diving into love-lorn emotions, it is when Kwamie Liv flexes her beat-welding muscles that she is at her most potent.