There’s a proper strategy to love Tems, and it begins with sacrifice. On Love Is a Kingdom, she says “mine” (as in, “You’re mine”) a complete of 69 instances—70 in case you depend the one-off “you not mine.” Most of those cases—57, to be exact—reside in monitor “Mine,” however its reiterations reveal the type of amor Tems inhabits: a union the place two souls turn out to be one.
Tems’ use of repetition has outlined her finest songs, like “Burning” and all seven tracks on this EP. It by no means feels lazy or formulaic; her voice carries an authenticity, as if she’s reached circulation state. Past her hooks, Tems’ kingdom rises on a basis of syncopated log drums and 808s, draped in ethereal harmonies and tender strings. Her falsetto floats above all of it, drifting between African, American, and Caribbean soundscapes and accompanied by shekere rattles.
The place her full-length debut, Born within the Wild, detailed the Nigerian artist’s genesis with expansive storytelling, Love Is a Kingdom pares the whole lot again. Tems cuts out almost all exterior enter, laying her emotions naked in a diary of romantic whiplash. Her imaginative and prescient of affection reads like scripture: affected person, variety, protecting, and hopeful, even when it breaks you. The EP is a brief 20 minutes, however its emotional arc feels liturgical. Songs transfer like temper swings in gradual movement, dwelling on a fraction of time earlier than shifting. One second, Tems is dunking on an unambitious, no-good accomplice; the subsequent, she’s surrendered to a sacrificial love, repeating her devotion like a prayer she will be able to’t shake. Love makes you do unusual issues.
The Afropop-y “First” opens like a psalm of self-preservation. “They hold making an attempt to regulate me,” she sings, “So I’ve to vary the story.” She means it: Tems produced, composed, and wrote the majority of this challenge, alongside longtime collaborator GuiltyBeatz. The sound stays near her prog-R&B and Afrobeats roots, with small diversions: “I’m Not Certain,” produced by Jonah Christian and Rob Bisel, drifts into Spanish-tinged textures; London and AoD swap it up with the churchy heat of “Lagos Love” and the three-step thrum of “Huge Daddy”’s amapiano-Afrotech bounce.
“What You Want” is the EP’s turning level. It follows “Mine,” a vow of devotion, and snaps the document into its not-so-happy-ever-after. The breakup feels overheard, like we’ve unintentionally stepped into her confession sales space. “I’m not what you want,” Tems repeats, trapped contained in the guilt. Her voice cracks, and right here it comes: “You not mine.” Nearer “Is There a Cause” is a courageous interrogation of religion that remembers the non secular looking out of “Me & U.” In it, Tems addresses God, wrestling with the value of sacrifice and struggling.
This non secular dimension, as soon as a refined undercurrent, now frames the complete challenge, elevating the EP from a love story right into a meditation on endurance. However Tems’ lyricism also can lean too summary, masking her feelings in celestial metaphors and mythic language that really feel simply out of attain. It’s poetic, although typically I want she’d descend from the clouds; a number of concrete particulars would make the dominion that a lot much less ethereally distant. Quick however worthy of your consideration, Love Is a Kingdom is the work of an artist who wields her voice like a balm as she challenges what it means to like and be liked for eternity.
