Rejected subheads: “Wubthumping,” “Wub Be Good to Me,” “wub you wanna make those eyes at us for?”…
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[7.12]
Kylo Nocom: “Rasga” continues Urias’s musical trajectory towards the sounds of literal pandemonium, and happens to be the best composed song on her debut EP — a hip house track that wouldn’t be too out of place in the blog-buzzed NYC queer rap scene, yet beats them at their game in unimaginable ways. Maffalda’s production ensures that “Rasga” is constantly self-destructing: “Mi Gente”-esque vocal samples are transmuted into spooky pan flutes; various hybrids of funk carioca percussion, twitchy moombahton drums, and ballroom house kicks appear at breakneck speeds; muted Ha Crashes in the first minute give way to full-bodied Ha Crashes later on. It’s as if the club is deconstructing from within in real time, rather than being dissected and pieced together carefully by an outsider — the result being a natural, impressive dynamism. Despite the distractions of the production, Urias is still the song’s center of gravity, alternating between delightful vocal modes before the song implodes from her shrieking “Rasga!”. Abrasive electronic textures haven’t been used in nearly enough pop contexts, and Urias’ decision to use them without compromise has excited me in ways I haven’t felt in forever for an artist, especially when the abrasion somehow feels consequent of both SOPHIE-inspired sound design and EDC excess. More importantly, though, “Rasga” is a dance track powered on self-love, a song-world where you can tear clubs up and tear people into pieces at the same time.
[9]
Alfred Soto: I wub you.
[7]
Iain Mew: There are a lot of complex and enjoyable things going on in the rapping, but most of all I’m impressed by anyone who can make me admire some sick wubs in 2019.
[7]
Michael Hong: “Rasga” flips several times, hopping from a beat that recalls Willy William’s “Voodoo Song” to a clubby backdrop to the mechanical ravings of PC Music, and just when you think it’s done, it flips again. It blurs like a fast-forward montage when you’re too spaced out to remember where you are, then slows down, slamming on the breaks. “Rasga” manages to keep surprising throughout its runtime, jumping with frenetic energy and dizzying confidence but it would have been nice to see it tied together with a slightly more visible through-line rather than hopping with complete chaos.
[6]
Tim de Reuse: Sci-fi clutter, brostep growls, a genuinely unpredictable structure; I’m a sucker for any groove this disorienting.
[7]
Wayne Weizhen Zhang: A frenetic fireball gyrating and grinding and exploding across two and a half short minutes, then dissipating into thin air.
[7]
Oliver Maier: A dizzying, remarkably self-assured piece of dance music, constantly about to topple over but keeping itself moving through sheer centrifugal force, Urias fixed at the centre. Skrillesque wubs are folded into hip-house and ballroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In these two’s hands, it might as well be.
[8]
Nortey Dowuona: A karaoke singer pulls in slowed, lilting drums and a withering synth plant which Urias kicks off stage before it’s set aflame by a pressing bass. Hooting from a crowd of synths follows, while Urias pulls out bass snakes and whips away the crowd’s chairs. They carry them onto the middle of the dancefloor as the tiled drums rumble below, and the snakes start swirling as the crow starts dancing. Urias leaps off the stage and rides a bass snake into the roof before descending heavy, frazzled and clad in snake skin, snatching each bass snake and turning them into a belt. Then, she decides to walk out and call Chance for a Lyft.
[6]