Much like American democratic ideals, pop’s creative vanguard has largely been flourishing outside the U.S. these days. Rosalia’s Lux, to cite 2025’s most vivid example, moves music vernacular forward by looking backwards to old-world virtuosity and spirituality. FKA Twigs’ EUSEXUA, meanwhile, found her leaning into brave new worlds: AI, virtual spaces, digitized ecstasy and body modification — all things making humans meta-human, for better or for worse.
EUSEXUA Afterglow finds Twigs doubling down on the personal cybernetic project she’s been engineering since 2014’s sublime vibrator “Two Weeks.” Originally conceived as a set of extras for the EUSEXUA deluxe edition, Afterglow is being released as a stand-alone LP, which is fair enough; its 11 tracks are all fresh cuts, as opposed to remix packages a la Charli XCX’s Brat and It’s Completely Different but Also Still Brat and Pink Pantheress’ Fancy Some More? If you hear echoes of those artists in Twigs latest work, you can hear echoes of her in theirs, too — the context of a dazzling UK pop generation born in rave culture’s golden era and, well, afterglow.
Pink Pantheress turns up on EUSEXUA Afterglow, in fact, on “Wild and Alone,” a softly percolating banger that posits fame as a perpetual relationship hurdle without getting too upset about it. Elsewhere on this horny, party-hardy set, relationships seem beside the point. “Lost all my friends in the club/ then i lost my mind in the car/ i don’t even remember who you are,” Twigs purrs woozily on “Lost All My Friends,” a sort of sequel to Pink Pantheress’ “Illegal” delivered over smeared downtempo beats that shift in and out of focus. “Slushy” feels like the offspring of Kate Bush’s “Deeper Understanding” after 30+ years of computer love, a swirl of harp and high-hat spectres under ASMR positivity mantras.
Admittedly, there’s nothing here as sticky as EUSEXUA’s “Sticky,” let alone “Childlike Things,” “Room of Fools” or “Drums of Death.” Afterglow is strongest when the beats are sickest, which is roughly midway through, when things peak with the tag-team of “Predictable Girl” and “Sushi,” a head rush of junglist bass growls and breakbeat abstracts. It’s heady, after-the-afterparty stuff — dance music for folks maybe too far gone to stay vertical, let alone dance. But Twigs, reliably, is about pushing one’s limits, so you might just find yourself rising to the occasion.
