Natasha Kmeto

That title—with it comes responsibility, comes predetermination, comes original sin. With Inevitable comes myth. There isn’t anything particularly complicated about her production—each track begins with a pupal notion that grows into purpose easily. She’s asking clear questions, demanding forward answers: “When you coming back?” or “Won’t you come and say that you won’t go?” She offers direction, and expects it to be followed, not because she’s demanding, just because she knows you know what’s right: “Then we can go oooh ooooh ooooh oooh oooh oooh yeah” or “Now you’re giving something” or “Tell me you want me.” She’s befriending Tunde Adebimpe, and he will sing his face off because he recognizes that “Grind” is the kind of song that only a person who knows something could make. And Natasha Kmeto won’t even ask him to do that. He repeats, “It’s so hard for me to know,” and it makes sense that whatever that something is that Kmeto knows, at least it could be anything. Rarely do any of us understand anything—it’s why we create myths, to give order to all the pandemonium around us. But Kmeto has that order ingrained in her, and Inevitable is proof. It is like Tron-R&B, like the two Daft Punk robots making out in a Bjork video, like Kate Bush counting all 50 words for snow with a digital abacaus. And by the end of it, Kmeto’s echoing herself, “I always wanted to be your girl,” over and over, but more wistfully than anything—she gets it, and she’s moving on. The more I listen to Inevitable, the more I realize it’s a record about seeking closure, and then actually finding it. It’s a soundtrack for getting one’s shit together. And, like myth, it’s something I really need.