Review snippets taken from Frank Falisi’s review over at Tiny Mix Tapes
Entrañas is the transitive text, the great soup of being. It is long-form self-investigation/-celebration, the body looking into its self, sensing a tension, getting a thrill. Entrañas is the self swallowing: can we find us in our guts? “Perdida” and “Torero” are cloister and throb, the self coursing in its veins, a flesh becoming-inward; “Culebra” is flange assertion of a new space in which to see inside-out, flesh becoming-self. On Mutant, Arca looked upward, to escape and to disembodiment, but in the mixtape space of Entrañas (no barriers; songs bleed; inward motion, not forward), it’s a re-engagement with what we mean when we mean us.
It’s ugly, because translation isn’t clean: a self can’t be translated perfectly (“Vicar” is the tension, stomp and stop, whips or wonder? A shout or a belch? Ecstasy or pain?). Entrañas is guts and bowels and entrails (and meat), and Entrañas is image digestion, self-processing. If you find an alien inside you, but the alien feels right, the alien is you.
“Baby Doll,” an alien voice: “Girls can wear jeans/ Cut their hair short/ Wear shirts and boots/ Because it’s okay to be a boy.“Art, like gender, doesn’t have to exist in a single fixed space: we can be at odds with our guts (“But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading/ Because you think that being a girl is degrading/ But secretly you’d love to know what it’s like/ Wouldn’t you?”) Arca’s art is fluidity, bodies chewing through boundaries and sounds, and the ventricles around Entrañas are personal. We can live as a becoming-text, between binaries and album releases and formats and identities. We don’t have to be on our way to a fixed point (Nelson: “How to explain, in a culture frantic for resolution, that sometimes the shit stays messy.”) But fixed points intrude, pressurize the safe space in our stomachs, implant their rigidity. “
The shit stays messy.