The shadow cast by Tricky is a long one. But beyond the raspy, roach toke vocals, what does a Tricky tune look like? What shape does it take? It’s hard to say. You can point to the downtempo bass and murk, but that foundation leaves you with plenty of room to roam. His spirit can be felt in Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland, Tirzah and Coby Sey, Young Echo and Space Afrika. The list goes on.
More than one of these artists show up on All Our Knives Are Always Sharp, the latest album by the British Nigerian self taught musician Tony Njoku. Indeed, Tricky himself appears on the track ‘Depleted’, connecting the sonic dots, an extended school of slouched shapeshifters.
That diffuse lineage can be heard on the record, but the textural fog is punctured by a sense of theatricality. Speaking with Fifteen Questions, Njoku cites Anohni and Nina Simone as early vocal influences, inspired by the rich breadth of their voices, the passion and the poise.
The album balances textural abstraction with ornate classical arrangements. ‘Weapon’ has circular piano motifs, flurried horns in reverse, panning falsetto vocals, and choruses that tremor like detonations from somewhere deep beneath the earth. The lyrics speak to the transformative power of song, a disruptive and regenerative force.
James Massiah features on ‘Catatonia’, the south London DJ, poet, and rapper who turned in such a memorable performance on the now classic Babyfather album, BBF Hosted By DJ Escrow. There’s no Quasimoto-esque helium antics here, instead he devises his own destiny and moral code. He feels no shame when he sins, no need to wait on the divine: “it’s all inside.”
You can’t fault the album for its lofty ambitions, though at times it feels overly wedded to a sense of gravitas, like the pianos on ‘The Slipstream’, which have all the solemn sentimentality of a Lloyds Bank advert. Closer ‘Safety’ is a much more arresting cut. “Daddy are you ready?” Njoku asks with a liquid coo. Sparse pianos then give way to icy shards of synthesizer. You’re given little warning. But there’s a thrill in such sudden demands to acclimatise.
Njoku is still finessing the niche he’s carved out. Adding structure and embellishment to such vaporous electronics is no small feat, like trying to map out smog. It shall be intriguing to see how he charts future efforts.
