Zola Jesus has often been filed under “gothpop”. It’s a reductive term for such a challenging yet accessible artist, who sounds here like the heiress to the throne of Elizabeth Fraser or Lisa Gerrard, yet also like nobody but herself.
Her sixth album gets exceedingly dark, and braves some Stygian, sunless terrain. However, her own claim that she grew up influenced by Mariah and Aaliyah makes sense too: Arkhon is a feast of many flavours. The difficulty of categorising her may cost her commercially, but this is a record that swells and grows each time you hear it. She remains a fascinating, fearless talent. After a spell of angsty writer’s block,
she relocated her groove – or found a new one – by collaborating with Sunn O))) producer Randall Dunn and Bowie/Dylan percussionist Matt Chamberlain. That released her tension, so while Arkhon is still an ocean of pain and powering through, it also exhibits playfulness and light. Whether it’s the anti-gospel chants and chugging of Lost or the rippling, ghostly funk of Undertow, this presents as both mood and momentum. The stark Desire reveals a soulful spectre of a voice. Truly outstanding.
- Ethel Cain nosedives into the haunting depths of a sexually tormented and guilt-ridden mind on the dark, disquieting Perverts
- “Sometimes his lyrics are so indistinct they may as well be wordless. Sometimes they are actually wordless”: Jonathan Hultén’s Eyes Of The Living Night is brilliant and beautiful
