You know, there was a lot riding on British composer and ensemble player Emma-Jean Thackray's debut LP Yellow. Thankfully it meets all of the expectations I could have placed on it. As it should. Not everyone gets their own imprint on Warp Records. Because when they do, they are instantly elevated to an artistic standing where it is appropriate to name them in the same breath as geniuses gurus of the likes of Flying Lotus. Such an event is akin to pulling Excaliber from a stone and suddenly finding yourself the king of the realm. Or queen in this case... and the sword is also a bent trumpet, and the bolder is a laptop with a failing hard drive... this metaphor is getting complicated. Where were we again? Oh yeah, Emma-Jean's LP!
Emma-Jean's, self-produced, full-length release isn't like many other jazz albums at present. Not even those produced by her contemporaries in the London soul and jazz revival- even those on offer by the resplendent Nubya Garcia, or the strikingly elegant Moses Boyd. The closest comparison I can think of to how Yellow sounds and feels to me is Damon Locks and the Black Monument Ensemble's album NOW from earlier this year. It's the only thing that I can think of which matches the same wavelength of irrepressible energy. They're both ensemble albums (obviously) and are both albums that remove their namesake and organizer from any sort of visible (or a guess, in this case, audible) role- instead, allowing their collaborators to produce the force and intensity necessary to bring the respective albums to life. I suppose this is in part due to both Emma-Jean and Damon's emphasis on interpretation and improvisation- letting their collaborators own their performance in the moment of creation, even when they are under the direct supervision of the composer (Emma-Jean & Damon) as producer. Both albums are also inspired by a certain vision of transcendence. For Damon, this transcendence takes the form of a dream of emancipation from apartheid and the current conditions of oppression experienced by black people in Chicago and elsewhere. While this is clearly a goal of Emma-Jean's as well, the ecstatic and visionary nature of her work takes on a more cosmic and spiritual tone in practice.
There is another musician who emerges from behind the curtain of my perception while listening to Yellow, and that is Alice Coltrane. There are no harps on Yellow, but there are many ecumenical prayers, and the journey which Emma-Jean embarks on is dynamically tethered to a shooting star which shot forth from Alice's creative cognition when she embarked on her quest to seek Satchidananda. There is a hymn in the midst of this generous generative genesis of grace called "May There Be Peace," a tonal supplication for centeredness and rejuvenation, stated in the planest of words, which acts as a focusing chakra, aligning the lush shimmer and bright, orchestral funk of "Sun," with the clamorous and celestial jazz of of "Mercury," exhibiting two of the many extrasensory impressions that the album reaches for and grasps, in complementary and diverse modes. In comparison, more sensual movements, like the gripping thump of "Green Funk" and the brisk and lean, golden-hued gospel of the title-track demonstrate the pliable and clay-like flesh from which the album is carved- acting as its anchor in the world of fresh dirt, and clean water, and refreshing currents of breathable air. Most evocative of the album's overall message though, is the light-funk, fusion drop and dizzy slide of "Say Something," which extols the merit of openness and love expressed through words and actions- emploring the listener, not just to speak, but to say the words that reside in the beat-keeping box in the barrel of their chest.
Music can't heal all the pain that resides in the world. But through it, we can at least feel something in unison with each other. And maybe, that can be the start of a dialogue. One that can hurdle boundaries that separate our lives and limit our impressions of what each has to offer the other. Not in a crass exchange of value as we experience in our everyday consumer culture, but as people: members of a potential community of souls, with individual experiences, memories, thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams, and each driven by a thirst for meaning. Next time you meet someone, whether they be an old acquaintance, or someone you are just getting to know- don't just say what you've been programmed to say by countless frictionless interactions in your past. Instead, tell them what really matters to you, and what that moment demands of you both. Form a bond with them, and let it mold to the individual shape of your hearts and palms. You might just be surprised at what brave new adventure this measured moment of truth ushers you both into.
