Tony Stamp reviews Sydneysider Julia Jacklin's impeccable third album, Poneke jazz from Clear Path Ensemble, and a sprawling RnB opus by Sudan Archives.
Pre-Pleasure by Julia Jacklin
Julia Jacklin Photo: Nick Mckk
I don’t think coming across as a nice person is a top priority for most musicians. But some are so good at imbuing songs with their essence, you just get a sense of it.
Sydney singer-songwriter Julia Jacklin is one of these. Her third album Pre-Pleasure continues to show how good she is at articulating herself through lyrics, and it’s a pretty stunning example of songcraft.
She’s as self-aware and reflective as always, but despite the cynicism and sarcasm that creep into her tunes, she seems as concerned about others as she is about herself - in fact, one song here is called ‘Be Careful With Yourself’.
When I heard Jacklin’s song ‘Body’ from her 2019 album Crushing, the bit that floored me was the defeated irony of the lyric “I guess it’s just my life, and it’s just my body”, when she sang about a former partner who had compromising pictures of her.
‘Be Careful With Yourself’ opens with lines asking someone to stop smoking, and stick to the speed limit, before she admits “I'm making plans for my future and I plan on you being in it”.
That razor-sharp sense of humour permeates all her writing. On ‘Moviegoer’ there are lines about bumping into someone, and both people apologising before one person says “if you can say it to a stranger you can call your sister later”.
I love that blend of literal and poetic licence, in a song that’s precariously delicate, and blossoms into a lovely, slightly bruised chorus.
Jacklin is the kind of lyricist who makes you want to understand what she’s singing about. Her voice bleeds empathy, and her words invite scrutiny.
On ‘Lydia Wears a Cross’, the album's slightly furtive beginning, she reminisces about school prayers, Princess Diana and Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat.
Throughout Pre-Pleasure, chord progressions are set up that you expect to continue, which then switch to something else, and every time it’s pleasantly surprising. The craft is impeccable, from the way she uses vocal harmony to add unexpected shading, to those articulate lyrics; sometimes heartfelt, sometimes bone-dry funny.
It’s the best of her albums (all of which are very good), and sets itself apart from them while still being distinctly hers. In hindsight the first single ‘I Was Neon’ feels like a bridge between records, all chunky guitar chugs.
The title of the song is beguiling, but it contains the album’s most cliched line: “Am I going to lose myself again”. It’s testament to Julia Jacklin’s impeccable songwriting that in context it feels fresh and exciting, and makes you want to learn more.
Solar Eclipse by Clear Path Ensemble
Photo: Supplied
Pōneke musician Cory Champion creates what he calls “leftfield deep house and techno”, exploratory music designed with rhythm in mind, and programmed on machines. He also plays drums, and in 2020 released the first Clear Path Ensemble album, which saw him joined by a host of top-notch players to create music that was unmistakably jazz, albeit with one foot in the future.
He’s just delivered a follow-up, and it’s even more forward-focused, retaining those virtuosic performances but smuggling in some electronic production techniques, and blurring the lines between what is and isn’t ‘live’.
The title track ‘Solar Eclipse’ has Champion playing not just its busy drums, but all the instruments aside from bass.
I guess it’s not uncommon these days for someone to be as proficient at programming drum machines as they are at playing live ones, but I’m always impressed.
On the album, he's also credited on vibraphone, Rhodes piano, guitar, synths and more, and in the liner notes talks about starting the project as something to be recorded traditionally, but being inspired by what he calls “a new DIY spirit in contemporary jazz” to incorporate those aforementioned electronic techniques.
It adds a pleasing layer of mystery to the album - for a lot of its runtime you could easily think you were listening to a live band.
Champion is joined by guest musicians throughout. He told bFM recently that adding them is one of the last stages of his process.
If I understood him correctly, he writes through improvisation - what you might expect when you think of jazz - then distils his compositions into something more concrete.
The liner notes also mention a “jam session attitude”, and that comes through clearly in the off-the-cuff vibe of a lot of these tracks - starting with ‘Kihi’, which opens the album.
The song has a feeling of being in stasis, underpinned by a funky, cyclical bassline. It’s a mode Champion returns to on ‘Interlock’, with surging cymbals and a squeaky guitar next to Rhodes, and clarinet from Mike Isaacs. The track roils along in a slightly threatening way but never explodes, aside from splashes of harp from Michelle Velvin.
Elsewhere on ‘Plasma Plaza’, the electronic alterations are more apparent, as Champion slices up and manipulates his drum samples.
There’s an air of international prestige to Solar Eclipse - it was mastered in London and released on Britain’s Soundway Records.
That pedigree and its virtuosity aside, I appreciate the lush palette - anything with vibes and Rhodes is a good start, and Champion finds room for guests on violin and taonga pūoro elsewhere.
It’s a pretty sumptuous sample of Pōneke jazz, and on tracks like the closing ‘Tennis Ball’, all the more impressive for having every instrument played by one guy.
Natural Brown Prom Queen by Sudan Archives
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Ohio-born musician Sudan Archives started playing violin at a young age and went on to study ethnomusicology. Those two things unmistakably colour her music, which she also sings on, and produces.
The fiddle shows up on each song, deployed in a variety of ways. And her appetite for different sounds from different places is evident on her second album. It’s restless and hungry, at times impossible to pin down.
She’s someone who could easily deliver a series of pop songs and frequently does treat the listener to a sugary hook or two. But she has many facets, and on Natural Brown Prom Queen, aims to show them all.
There’s a reggae bump to ‘Selfish Soul’, buoyed by its violin runs, and despite how effortless it all feels, it’s a song about something very personal and politically-charged: her hair.
She says “If I wear it straight will they like me more/ like those girls on front covers”, and “we feel ashamed by the curls, waves and natural things”.
On 'NPBQ (Topless)' she touches on colourism, wondering if she was light-skinned would she get into more parties, and win Grammys.
As serious as these sentiments are, they’re all delivered tongue-in-cheek. Lyrically she’s conversational and free-flowing throughout this album, casually potty-mouthed, and down to earth.
And her playing is just as malleable. The track 'FLUE' loops around a pizzicato riff, then she adds layers of strings to the chorus. ‘TDLY (Homegrown Land)’, has lightning-fast violin trills, and later is distorted and drenched in reverb, coming in stabs.
Sudan Archives’ real name is Brittney Parks. Her stepdad worked at a record label, and encouraged her and her sister to chase pop success, but Brittney, who was a punk in her high school years, rejected that. Eventually, she fell out with her parents and left home, and in Los Angeles, explored beat music at the Low End Theory club night.
Through Western ears, the club vibe might feel at odds with her violin playing, but as she told The Guardian “I found violinists who looked like me in Africa, playing it so wildly. It's such a serious instrument in a western concert setting, but in so many other places in the world it brings the party”.
Over the course of the album, Brittney delivers tough hip hop, middle eastern melodies alongside booming 808s… there’s even a message of support from her mum. It’s the kind of sprawling approach that’s become familiar on a certain type of indie RnB album.
The violin is prevalent, but never a gimmick. From the beats to her delivery there’s so much else going on, it’s just part of an ambitious tapestry.
‘Freakalizer’ looks back to the 1980s for its rhythm, and treats the listener to a breathy pop chorus. It’s the kind of moment she can deliver with ease… but she has so much else to say.
