Documentary: The Devil And Daniel Johnston

Photography by Kristin Lee Moolman | Words by Candy Reding Baloji is a Congolese-born director, art director, and musician who defies labels and transcends boundaries in music, film, and fashion. His layered journey—from receiving an order to leave Belgium to representing the country at the Oscars with his Cannes-winning debut feature—offers powerful lessons on resilience, identity, and the transformative power of art.For Baloji, identity has always been a dual-edged sword, both a question to navigate and a declaration to uphold. His name, translating to “man of science” in Swahili, originally held a sense of pride and purpose. Yet under colonial Christian evangelism, the name morphed into something far darker, twisted into meaning “sorcerer” or “man of occult sciences.” In a world deeply rooted in spiritual traditions and Christian beliefs, his name became a stigma, a provocation, and a challenge. “It’s like calling yourself the devil or a demon in Europe,” he explains. Growing up as a young boy in Belgium, the misunderstanding of his name led to a sense of displacement and alienation. It made people uneasy, forcing him inwards to find ease. “It wasn’t about embodying silence; it was about breaking it,” he reflects, offering a glimpse into the resilience that has since become his signature.Baloji’s path as an artist has been defined by his refusal to accept the limits placed on him. A self-taught creator who built his craft through exploration and persistence, he shaped his artistic identity within the resourceful and rebellious culture of 90s hip-hop. “Hip-hop is the real DIY,” he says, recalling how it taught him creativity and self-reliance. “You’re making your own flyers, photos, fanzines. My specialization was rap, but that naturally evolved into graffiti, graphic design, and architecture. Dance taught me about the movement of damaged Black bodies. DJing and sampling opened my ears to the music of other cultures; Caribbean, Latin American, and even my Congolese heritage.” This constant expansion of his creative field allowed him to embrace his roots while beating the expectations often placed upon them.Baloji’s journey as an artist began with a leap into the unknown when he joined the Belgian hip-hop group Starflam in 1998. It was a transformative moment, “Starflam taught me about life,” he reflects because “I was an undocumented, illegal teenager. I had an order to leave the country and was far from my family.” This disconnection from the familiar, paired with the hardships of his undocumented status, could have stifled his potential. Instead, it fueled his artistry. Through Starflam, Baloji learned to channel his inner world, turning his emotions, struggles, and dreams into powerful lyrical narratives. The collective gave him the tools to survive and thrive, crafting an identity rooted in self-expression and rebellion against societal constraints. This period laid the groundwork for his multifaceted career.While Baloji’s creative independence is unmistakable, collaborators and mentors who believed in his vision have also shaped his journey. Among them was the late Virgil Abloh, whose innovative spirit left a lasting impression. “I learned so much from Virgil”, Baloji shares. “He could move from one project to another without losing focus and was always open to other designers. He supported the Augure film project because it aligned with his mission to uplift Black women and, by extension, Black-owned businesses.” Abloh’s spirit of collaboration and cultural pride resonates deeply with Baloji. His excursion into fashion marks yet another exciting chapter: "I'm working a lot on the fashion and art direction aspect at the moment because I've gained confidence in my skills and aesthetic choices by working with professors at the Fashion Academy in Antwerp.” For Baloji, fashion is about garments and storytelling, how costumes, art direction, and narration create a cohesive and transformative visual language.Fashion, however, is not a newfound interest but a natural extension of his lifelong appreciation for craftsmanship. As he excitedly explains, "I've got a few fashion projects coming up, and I'm working passionately on the crafts that I've discovered by being a great aficionado of Belgian designers.” From Martin Margiela to Anthony Vaccarello, Baloji draws inspiration from the greats. He also admires icons like Karl Lagerfeld, particularly his work with Métiers d'Art, which combines tradition and modernity in high fashion.For an artist whose work resists labels, the interplay of cultural traditions is central to his creative process. Whether in music, film, or fashion, Baloji treats symbols and narratives with a curiosity that invites exploration and connection. “I read the newspaper, I listen to author podcasts, I read biographies, even 50 Cent's is a gold mine, full of knowledge. Culture is about reaching out, stepping out of your comfort zone, and learning from others,” he says. This philosophy extends into his personal life, where he immerses his young daughter in a broad spectrum of experiences. From waacking events - waacking is a street dance style - to art galleries, Congolese snack bars to Korean neighborhoods, opera houses, and street basketball courts, Baloji ensures that she grows up understanding the value of diversity. He says that different opinions and perspectives build character, and that’s something “I want her to carry forward.”The turning point in Baloji’s career came with his evolution from music to filmmaking. This shift, while natural in hindsight, was filled with challenges. He reveals that he went to the European Cinema Commission (the non-profit association that supports filmmaking in Europe) “26 times between 2012 and 2022, and they only gave me the green light once.” Despite the promises of diversity and meritocracy often preached in the industry, the experience disillusioned him. They make you believe in the idea of “when you want it, you can (get funding), but it’s a lie. It’s about knowing who has the power to make it happen.” Despite these barriers, Baloji’s persistence paid off. His film Omen (known locally as Augure) received international acclaim, showcasing his ability to tell deeply resonant stories across mediums. Yet he remains grounded, crediting much of his success to the support of his family. “I owe so much to my daughter’s mother, who supported me through four years of filmmaking without income or certainty. She’s my luck.”Freedom, strength, and rebellion run like threads through Baloji’s work, but these qualities did not come without struggle. He speaks candidly about the sacrifices he has made for his art, describing a pivotal moment when he poured 25k of his own money into a film project. “My cinematographer told me: ‘25K is what I pay for my house mortgage.’ I don’t have a house; I’m still renting. But I see that sum as an investment in my art, in fighting for it to exist despite the obstacles.” For Baloji, creation is a form of resistance and determination. His projects are not simply about aesthetics but about narrative, depth and meaning. “People misunderstand my work; they think it’s just about images. But the visuals tell a story. They look easy to imitate, but it’s the flow of ideas that counts. Execution changes over time, but the narrative is what endures.”Strangely, Baloji’s recognition in the film world solidified his broader reputation. As the president of the Camera d’Or at Cannes, he found himself in a position of respect within an industry that had long resisted his inclusion. “I think I’m one of the first self-taught filmmakers to win a prize at Cannes and represent a country at the Oscars.” His film Augure (known as Omen internationally) was the Belgian entry for Best International Feature Film at the Oscars in 2023. But there’s still a long way to go in breaking glass ceilings for creative minorities and Black men. However groundbreaking, Baloji’s achievements are only one step in a larger journey toward systemic change.Despite the seriousness of his work, Baloji finds ways to invite lightness into his life. “There’s a lot of humor in my films and my work in general, but it’s secondary at first sight”, he explains. Humor is the politeness of despair, but so is poetry. When it’s time to decompress, he turns to simple pleasures: traveling, cooking, watching soccer (his beloved Real Madrid), or indulging in the freedom of not setting the alarm. These moments of lightness, however small, are vital to his sense of balance.Peace, for Baloji, remains an evolving concept. “I don’t know if I’m at peace with my past, but not having all the answers keeps me alert. It inspires me to keep fighting for myself, my loved ones, and for change.” Through his art, he challenges certain ideologies and redefines what it means to belong. “Art shapes how we view identity and culture, but curiosity drives creativity,” he says. With this insatiable curiosity and a refusal to accept limits, Baloji continues to transcend boundaries, inspiring others to embrace their roots while daring to create something entirely their own. Baloji is not just a symbol of resilience; he invites us to dream bigger and create fearlessly.The Patta Magazine Volume 4 will be included for free with each online order of the Patta Angelwings T-shirt while stock lasts. 

David Kane, author of What Do You Call It? From Grass Roots To The Golden Era Of UK Rap, is coming to All My Friends on Thursday 27 February for a special book launch. What Do You Call It? charts the journey of UK rap music over four decades, exploring the origin stories of classic albums and the artists that made them, and changed the course of British music and culture despite the systemic racism and infrastructural challenges faced. David will be in conversation with music journalist Nicolas Tyrell Scott with Logan Sama playing a special history of grime set afterwards.Get Familiar with David Kane

While AntsLive & YS Sainté were in town to visit Patta Amsterdam for a meet and greet, the North London rapper took to the streets and filmed a music video for his single Crew Love in and around our beloved Zeedijk area which is home to our Amsterdam chapter store.Get familiar with AntsLive here.

Words by David KaneWhat Do You Call It? From Grassroots to the Golden Era of UK Rap took me over three years to write. It wasn’t supposed to. Deadlines came and went, and nine months before it was finally finished, I decided to rip it up and start again. Or at least start the start again. Part of that was driven by a change of start date, at first the book begins at the turn of the century a time fraught with tension (remember the ‘millennium bug’?), political machinations, and creative possibilities, where technology and culture were changing faster than it had for decades. But as I dug deeper, I realised I had to go further back, extending the scope to the start of the 1980s, when rap music landed on our odd little island, imported through the electro-driven hip-hop of Afrika Bambaataa, shaped by sound system culture, inspired by punk and accelerated by rave. And one name kept coming up. Thirty years ago, Tricky released Maxinquaye, and that album changed everything.By the early 90s, the excitement and promise of the UK hip-hop 1.0 had almost fizzled out. Dismissed by the media, denied by music industry gatekeepers, and only the most hardcore fans continued to show interest while the US was going through its golden into the gangsta era, attracting a broader—read, white suburban—rap music fan. There was friction within UK hip-hop, as Trevor Jackson, a.k.a Underdog and head of Bite It! Recordings, one of the few labels releasing consistently challenging hip-hop at the time, put it; “Everyone wanted to get a piece of a very small pie. Some UK foundational figures felt they owned everything and were entitled to success.” The energy in the UK had to come from somewhere and sound like something else.Adrian Nicholas Matthews Thaws grew up in Knowle West, a tough, predominantly white working-class area in South Bristol. Thaws was born to a Jamaican father and a Ghanaian-English mother, a poet named Maxine Quaye, who committed suicide when he was just four years old. His grandmother and various aunties brought him up. It was a happy, if unconventional, childhood despite being surrounded by violence;  “Where I come from, a lot of people are either on drugs, in prison or dead,” he later recalled. Fortunately, Thaws found solace in music. First, he was known as Tricky Kid, a rapper and sometime member of The Wild Bunch, a loose collective of musicians and artists who were so hip it hurt. They formed in the early 1980s and played at warehouse parties and Bristol institutions like St Paul’s Carnival, Special K’s cafe and the dingy Dug Out club. The influence of reggae sound system culture, punk, jazz, soul, and hip-hop were all present, but there was an unhurried melancholy to the music that was unique to a notoriously laid-back and diverse city.The Bristol music scene is a storied one, but The Wild Bunch — including Miles Johnson (a.k.a. DJ Milo), producer Nelle Hooper, Robert Del Naja (a.k.a. 3D), Grant Marshall (a.k.a. Daddy G), and Andrew Vowles (Mushroom) — were arguably the inception point and ruled the roost. Confident aesthetes, rolling around town on hi-tech mountain bikes decked out in Stüssy jeans and Vivienne Westwood shirts with an uncanny knack for sound. Milo introduced Tricky to the crew. He was a shy and sensitive teenager, but he had a supernatural talent for lyrics–sounding like a troubadour of darkness who had toked his way through a maze of marijuana. The collective dissolved in 1987, with Hooper joining Soul II Soul and Milo moving to New York, which left 3D, Daddy G, and Mushroom to form Massive Attack. Tricky appeared in three singles — “Daydreaming”, “Five Man Army” and “Blue Lines” — from the group's seminal debut album, Blue Lines (1991). A broody, epic sounding and insular feeling masterpiece, it helped redefine dance music and coin a new subgenre, trip-hop–a name almost every artist associated with it utterly detests, particularly Tricky. Both Tricky and, to a lesser extent, 3D rap with regional British accents, which was unheard of at the time, but the intention behind Blue Lines was to “Create dance music for the head, rather than the feet”, explained Daddy G. Yet Tricky was more interested in hip-hop. Tensions within Massive Attack (and The Wild Bunch before that) always seemed to be brimming close to the surface. While working on Blue Lines, Tricky produced the demo for “Aftermath”, a bluesy, smoky single with esoteric wood pipe samples featuring the dulcet tones of Martina Topley-Bird and Tricky’s haunting vocals. Tricky offered the track to Massive Attack as they were finalising their debut album, but 3D dismissed it, telling Tricky he’s “Never going to make it as a producer”. The single remained moored to tape, unreleased for a further three years. Shortly after the release of Blue Lines, Tricky departed the group and began working on solo material at a stoned snail's pace. Although ‘Aftermath’ laid the blueprint for what would eventually become his 1995 masterpiece, Maxinquaye (named after Thaws’ mother), a strikingly original body of work “Which acknowledged and accelerated what was new in the 90s, technology, cultural pluralism, and genre innovations.” As adroitly proposed by author Mark Fisher, a stark counter to the “reactionary pantomime of Britpop,” with its refuge in the past.That Tricky was even prepared to take centre stage was partly thanks to the mentorship of Mark Stewart, ex-frontman of legendary new-wave outfit The Pop Group and Bristol sound linchpin, who met Tricky via The Wild Bunch. Stewart is credited as ‘executive producer’ for Maxinquaye. If Stewart were the mentor, Martina Topley-Bird would often be framed as the muse (Tricky went on to have a romantic relationship with Topley-Bird). But in reality, Topley-Bird, who came from a well-off family with experience in the music business, helped influence as well as inspire the music for Maxiquaye, conceiving the jingle jangle melody of “Ponderosa” and provided an unexpected new take on the lyrics from Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos” in “Black Steel”. The legend goes that Tricky met 15-year-old schoolgirl Topley-Bird outside his house, waiting for a bus and invited her to make a song on an impulse. That impulse continued in the eventual studio sessions, where all the vocals were recorded in the first take. Alongside the expected hip-hop, dub and soul influences, there is an art-rock weirdness to the sound, a sludgy filter over the percussion and, of course, that famed dark atmosphere with cracks of piercing light courtesy of Topley-Bird’s soothing vocal. “Let me take you down the corridors of my life.” Tricky beckons on “Hell Is Round The Corner”. Tricky was still in his early twenties when he wrote and recorded Maxinquaye. Yet, he had a pool of life experience to draw from, with no shortage of trauma and complexity, having grown up around gangsters with limited familial affection and often went looking for fights in Bristol’s nightclubs, wearing makeup and a dress. Drugs, sex, dysfunctional relationships, and a broader pre-millennium tension are subjects broached in the record. Despite this heaviness, he appears sensitive as he is streetwise and raw. Two things stand out from Maxinquaye and much of the music Tricky has made since. The first is how quietly Tricky raps, a silently disciplined zig to everyone else's clamorous zag, which demands the listeners' attention. The second is his androgyny as a lyricist; in “Suffocated Love”, a seemingly straightforward track on the inner dialogue of a couple where the man gets the sex, and the woman gets the money, isn't quite what it seems with sexual violence and man's dread of intimacy playing the background; “I keep her warm, but we never kiss / She cuts my slender wrists”. “I think ahead of you, I think instead of you”, Topley-Bird’ teases in response. It’s worth remembering that Tricky is responsible for nearly all the lyrics on Maxinquaye, a morass of gender-bending adventure and sonic contortion. In an interview with Mark Fisher for The Wire, Tricky admits his “Lyrics are written from a female perspective a lot of the time.” This takes us to the fourth significant collaborator on the album—there were others, including The Cure producer Mark Stewart and DJ Howie B, who got burned by the experience, but that’s another story—in the voodoo homage to the mother he never knew, claiming that she channelled his lyrics through him and Martina Topley-Bird. The album prompted universal and hyperbolic critical acclaim, perhaps the most memorable of which was David Bowie's 2,000-word paean in Q magazine. In this, Bowie, in typically Bowie-esc glossolalia, acknowledged the arrival of an heir to his shape-shifting crown (or tiara?) and also recognised that his own game might be up. “Here come the horses to drag me to bed,” Bowie concluded. “Here comes Tricky to fuck up my head.”Despite the success of Maxinquaye—the record proved a completely unexpected commercial triumph, reaching number 3 in the UK album chart, selling over half a million copies since, and regularly appearing in ‘best of’ lists—Tricky’s life didn’t get any easier. There have been battles with mental health, problems with guns (his cleaner’s young son accidentally set off a Uzi in his New Jersey apartment), and a hedonistic lifestyle that almost left him in financial ruin. Most tragically, Mazy, his daughter with Topley-Bird, took her own life in 2019.  Like all great minds, Tricky reminds us how noble, tortured, and downright absurd a creature humans can be. And he writes raps as hard as hell. What Do You Call It? From Grassroots to the Golden Era of UK Rap is out now on Velocity Press. The book is available directly from the publisher, all good book and record stores. It’s a book about the evolution of rap music in the UK, when hip-hop landed on our odd little island in the early 1980s. Shaped by sound system culture, inspired by punk, and accelerated by rave, A sound that has evolved from Britcore, UK hip-hop, and trip-hop of the late twentieth century to garage, grime, and drill. What Do You Call It? is also a story about what it means to be seen and to belong to this country. Get familiar with David Kane or head to your local Patta store to get your copy of Patta Magazine Volume 4 now.

Maha Eljak Launches the Second Edition of Mahazine: Art as a Form of ResistanceMultidisciplinary artist Maha Eljak is set to launch the second edition of her self-published DIY zine on February 25, and it’s one you won’t want to miss. Titled Art as a Form of Resistance, this issue continues the journey of a project that started as an overblown school assignment in 2021, sparked by frustration with the one-dimensional portrayal of Black Muslim women. What began as an artistic protest against the mainstream narrative has evolved into a powerful platform for Maha to reclaim and center her own voice, presenting her identity on her own terms.The result is nothing short of a creative explosion—a zine packed with vibrant collages, stories, punk influences, poetry, interviews, and photography. Maha’s art challenges society’s assumptions, raises awareness, and, most importantly, encourages others to look beyond surface-level perspectives.From School Project to Creative MovementWhen Mahazine first launched, it took the world by storm. The first batch of Mahazine 1 sold out within two days, leaving readers hungry for more. Now, with Mahazine 2, Maha brings a more mature version, offering even greater depth, reflection, and insight. This edition dives deep into the themes of politics, identity, punk culture, and the fashion industry, all wrapped in the aesthetics of 70s and 80s punk zines, with a dose of her Sudanese roots.By blending these diverse elements, Mahazine becomes more than just a publication—it transforms into a tool of resistance, demonstrating how art can challenge the status quo and provide an authentic space for voices often excluded from mainstream narratives.Why Mahazine Matters: Reader ReactionsThe impact of Mahazine is palpable, with readers praising the zine for its power to break through societal bubbles and offer a fresh perspective. One reader shared:"What I feel after reading Mahazine is just how important your zine is and how much we need more zines like this in the Netherlands. Or rather, we need your voice; it’s invaluable in journalism and art because it enriches perspectives. It’s crucial because Mahazine breaks through bubbles. It brings stories to light that often go untold, offers perspectives outside the mainstream, and gives a voice to experiences overshadowed by dominant narratives."The zine is not only a source of information; it’s a bridge between two worlds—those who live in privilege and those fighting for more diversity and inclusion. Mahazine serves as a reminder that, through art, we can inspire change, challenge the norm, and find strength in authenticity.Another reader expressed the hope that Mahazine instills, saying:"It’s a reminder that change is possible and that every voice can make a difference. ‘Art as a Form of Resistance’ shows that not fitting into norms or conventions isn’t a weakness but a source of strength and authenticity."Join the Resistance: Release Party at ParadisoTo celebrate the launch of Mahazine 2, Maha Eljak will host a release party on February 25 in the Upstairs room of Paradiso. This is no ordinary event—it’s an immersive night of culture, entertainment, and resistance. Expect poetry readings, live bands, inspiring guest speakers, and, of course, delicious food and drinks.And here’s a spoiler: The evening will be filled with Sudanese culture, so get ready for an unforgettable experience. Whether you're an art lover, a punk enthusiast, or someone simply looking for an evening of inspiration, this release party promises to deliver.

Farida’s work doesn’t just engage; it rallies while exploring intersectionality and the influence of monetary economics, heritage, and politics on the future of globalism and community life. Hip-hop, punk activism and social care are all themes the acclaimed multi-disciplinary artist puts on wax via screen prints, textile art, murals and beyond. Her label HOSSELAER (est. 2008) has collaborated with Patta and Junya Watanabe, while her oeuvre includes a partnership with Emory Douglas, artist and former Minister of Culture for the Black Panther Party, in collaboration with HipHopHuis Rotterdam and work for Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam. Farida also recently designed a beautiful book and the visual identity for Our Colonial Inheritance at Wereldmuseum Amsterdam, where her art installation occupies an entire room. As the newly crowned winner of the Amsterdam Prize for the Arts - Work of the Year for her solo show and art market People’s Forum, Farida levelled the field, bum-rushed the show and won big. For those usually left looking up. For the underdog. For the arts. For the people.DOMINIQUE NZEYIMANA: Cover girl!FARIDA SEDOC: “A 44-year-old cover girl! Nice!” (laughs)

DM: Congratulations on your major Amsterdam Prize for the Arts win! I’d love to talk about the process behind People’s Forum, your now award-winning exhibition. I witnessed first-hand how fantastic it was. How did you land on wanting to do it and when did you start building it?

FS: “Some years ago, I had a conversation with Fadwa Naamna, an artist and curator living in Amsterdam. We’d worked together on an exhibition at the Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam. During that time, we talked about W139 - the independent art space squatted in the ‘80s by artists looking for alternatives to the traditional art world. W139, much like major institutions such as the Rijksmuseum or the Stedelijk, is often debated in the Dutch art scene, especially when it comes to its funding and future. The Netherlands has this unique, discourse-driven subsidy system free from commercial influence that supports critical thinking. W139 was on shaky ground financially around then, as Fadwa and I discussed alternative ways to sustain such spaces. The concept of organising a bazaar came up and I suggested an art market where artists could sell anything they wanted, not just their work. The idea clicked, and Fadwa invited me to develop it further when she joined the artistic team at W139. Initially, we planned it for 2021, but the pandemic delayed everything. A couple of years on, we set a date for late 2023. Working with W139’s new team and co-curator Claudio Ritfeld, we started drafting budgets, securing funding and coordinating logistics together with technical and supporting staff. It was a long road. In the Netherlands, curators often have to source their own funding instead of working with a pre-approved budget. It makes the process complex. It’s like: ‘Hey, do you want to do an exhibition?’ If you say: ‘Yeah!’, they reply with: ‘Oh, also, we don’t have any money.’ (laughs) And then if you’re still up for it, you start building a case to get funding.”Photographed by Pieter Kers, W139, 2023, Exhibition People's ForumDM: That takes a lot of faith!

FS: “Of course, you get some money while you’re working on your bid. But it does highlight the vulnerability of the art world. Institutions might provide a buffer but for artists, financial uncertainty is constant. It’s a system that often limits opportunities to the privileged few. After months of development and waiting, we finally secured backing from sponsors. So, after the 2022 group show Non-profit At All Cost I curated at NEST in The Hague, I was officially invited to do my first institutional solo show at W139. I wanted it to serve as the backdrop for a public programme that could engage wider audiences beyond the art world – a decision that also tied back to certain funding requirements. The market became part of this programme, spanning two weekends. Half the vendors were people we know and the other part was curated through an open call. They joined us, offering everything from independent magazines and music to clothing, crafts and handmade goods. Athenaeum Boekhandel hosted a pop-up, vinyl sellers brought their good shit and local artists added something unique. Artist advocacy group Platform BK had an office-in-residence. We also hosted workshops every Friday to help artists professionalise their artistic practices. These sessions covered everything from navigating contracts and understanding AI to owning your rights and working with digital art. Lawyers with art backgrounds guided participants and answered questions. For me, it wasn’t just about the market but about creating a space where artists could experiment, collaborate and exchange. The collectivity of it all was powerful.”DM: How did you approach the Farida Sedoc - Solo Exhibition part of it? 

FS: “I was working on what I love most: screen printing. I had been collecting images and when I thought about the huge space at W139, I initially wanted to make large works that would have an impact. But creating several big pieces wasn’t doable time and budget-wise, so I decided to make about 40 smaller works instead, hung in a single round-about line as one cohesive series. I also want to add that the graphic design and spatial design was done by Heavy Bones, and the success of the show as a whole was greatly impacted by this. It allowed me to focus on the story I wanted to tell rather than being overwhelmed because I had to fill the room. I also love doing research, so I set out to explore feminist archives. But the pandemic made access difficult. Instead, I went to my mom’s house and found a trove of books and self-published ‘80s magazines. The themes were still deeply relevant today, so I took pages that caught my eye and used them to create new prints and collages. One moment that stood out was finding old newspaper clippings about my father and my mother’s university friend. It highlighted the importance of migrant communities documenting and sharing their own stories, rather than having them told by others. This inspired me to create works that imagined new futures while building on past stories - a way of reflecting on our own narratives and shaping what’s to come.”

DM: What was the most important takeaway from the overall experience?

FS: “People’s Forum proved that it can be whatever you want: selling your art, the cookies you baked or even clothes left lingering in your closet. Artists have many facets. The beauty was that you weren’t forced to sell your art, if you made the best hot chocolate in Amsterdam, you were welcome to sell that. It forces you to reconsider what defines your practice and how you want to make a change in the world. At its core, it was about sharing resources and challenging the exclusivity and pretentiousness of the traditional art world. It responded to the idea that artists must follow a set path: go to art school, land a gallerist, make work in a studio and then let the gallery sell it. But that’s not the only way. People’s Forum showed there are many paths to success and no shame in a non-linear journey. The market also brought accessibility to the conversation. Artists reserved tables for 25 euro and sold whatever they felt like, with some making 600 euro, enough to cover their rent for the month. How great is that!”DM: I love how you have this introverted energy that I completely relate to, but yours almost always gets overruled by your care for the collective. FS: “I, myself, love working alone. I’ll be in my studio, minding my business, chugging away. But when I’m ready to step outside, a lot of my work is about shared energy. Not everyone is entrepreneurially inclined, yet the system often demands it. People’s Forum is a DIY approach to the art world system but with a collaborative spirit. Instead of DIY it became DIT, ‘Do It Together’. The Amsterdam Prize jury and the city saw it as something wild and impactful.”DM: So, where do you want to take your work next and what about HOSSELAER? How do you sense when it’s time to tap back into your brand?FS: “Well, it’s more practical. Whenever I have an exhibition, I create HOSSELAER merch, like a T-shirt capsule. It’s always tied to the show and when people are excited about the exhibition but perhaps not yet familiar with my work, they want something to take home. A T-shirt becomes an accessible way for them to connect with the exhibition without necessarily having to buy a piece of art. It’s also a way to communicate the message or context of the show in a simple, affordable format. I also enjoy doing collabs, but not by directly linking HOSSELAER with other brands. Instead, I’ll design T-shirts on commission. Like when I worked with Patta, they reached out and asked: ‘Hey, would you like to design a T-shirt for this project?’ and I said: ‘Bet, let’s do it!’ These collabs are more project-based. Of course, I’d love to keep doing this, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s not my core business. That was hard to accept at first, but I’m okay with it now. Sometimes, I think about improving the quality of the T-shirts. For instance, on a random Monday night, I’ll go: ‘We need to step up the quality’. Recently, my studio mate made a really nice T-shirt and I was shocked by how good the fabric was. I yelled: ‘What is this?! I have the same supplier, but they never sent me these!’ (laughs). Then by Wednesday, I’ll have forgotten about it and three months later, it’ll pop back into my head. My neighbour says, at this pace, I’ll have a successful T-shirt business when I’m 80. Which is fine by me. Hopefully, I can keep collaborating - whether in fashion or another field - and maintain enthusiasm for the creative process. I’ve seen too many artists lose that passion over time, for various reasons, and it’s such a shame. Whether the work is big or small, I want to keep that fire close to me. It’s about having something to say, staying connected with my medium and finding my tribe. That’s what I strive for - to stay true to my art and continue to express myself in ways that resonate with others.”Photographed by Peter Thijhuis, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, 2020, The Future Ain't What It Used To BeDM: What’s next? I know you want to retreat a little bit, but momentum is also a real thing. 
FS: “What’s most important for me is that, as an artist, the focus stays on the work. Once your attention shifts to everything around it - negotiating contracts, dealing with different departments, making videos about the project or talking about it - then the quality of the work itself starts to suffer. That’s why I don’t say no just to say no - I do it because I need to stay sane and capable. I need time to sleep well, be able to get out of bed, not burn out and approach projects with the right energy. Whether I’m happy, pissed the fuck off or somewhere in between, I still have to be motivated to create. And that’s where I’m at now. I want to make space for that, and the prize gives me that freedom - to take time and develop new work. Even though I do have exhibitions lined up for 2025, I’m prioritising that deeper engagement with my practice. As for other goals: a solo expo internationally would be cool.”
DM: Any specific museums you have in mind?
FS: “I’ve learned to go where people understand my work without much explanation. In independent, experimental spaces, there’s genuine respect, and people get the work for what it is. That’s where I feel most at home. The gallery world is still new to me, and I’m exploring it to understand what production and storytelling mean in that more commercial setting. I want to dive deeper into that context. Sometimes I feel I may be overthinking it, but it’s a process and I’m open to seeing where it leads. Some of my friends will say: ‘Money is nice, Farida, it’s really fun to have. You don’t have to make it so complicated. Just create something, and then the gallery will sell it.’ (laughs) I’m still figuring out what that balance looks like for me. And finding a good gallerist is almost like finding a lover. You can’t force it.”Photographed by Goedfolk & Charlotte Markus, Nest Art Space, 2022The gallerists I know work so closely with their artists. They call them almost every day just to talk about what’s on their mind. It’s like a marriage. I don’t think I could take on a second husband or wife like that. Speaking of love: the night you won the Amsterdam Prize for the Arts, my IG feed was full of Farida, which was the best. Everybody was rooting for you. You were in a category with Steve McQueen. How do you look back on that moment? FS: “It was amazing to win a prize from the city and the people of Amsterdam, not just the art community. The recognition felt good, especially knowing a lot of this year’s winners were underdogs who have been at it for years and kept pushing against all odds.”Photographed by Goedfolk & Charlotte Markus, Nest Art Space, 2022DM: How did your family react? FS: “My dad is proud. My mom was at the ceremony, and brought along a bunch of elders. They were drinking wine and having an excellent time! (laughs). My daughter and my partner were with me, as were my little niece and my neighbour’s kid - they’d never been up that late. Our crew was rolling 20 or 30 deep. All the nominees were smiling big at the cameras. Everyone wanted that grant! My fellow nominee Ena, who’s won a bunch of Golden Calves (the award for the Netherlands Film Festival), told me backstage that she knew I had this. When they announced People’s Forum as the winner, everyone screamed as loud as they could. It was a great night.”The Patta Magazine Volume 4 will be included for free with each online order of the Patta Angelwings T-shirt while stock lasts.

Interview by Passion DzengaHip-hop has always been more than just music - it’s a movement, a cultural force, and a reflection of its environment. While the U.S. laid the foundation, the UK developed its own voice, shaped by sound system culture, punk rebellion and the raw energy of garage and grime. From Britcore to drill, the evolution of UK Rap has been a story of resilience, reinvention and relentless innovation.Today, we’re joined by David Kane, a writer and cultural historian whose latest work, What Do You Call It? From Grassroots to the Golden Era of UK Rap, charts the first four decades of UK Rap. Through extensive research and exclusive interviews with key figures - from pioneers like Jazzie B, Roots Manuva and Roll Deep to modern trailblazers like Little Simz and CASisDEAD explores how UK Rap carved out its own lane, reflecting British identity and reshaping the global music landscape. If you got love for the culture, this is a conversation you don’t want to miss. David Kane has also been instrumental in the process of bringing the Patta Magazine to life from Volume 1 until now as the editor-in-chief of our seasonal offering. On the eve of the release of Patta Magazine Volume 4, we want to share the thought process and teachings from the brand new book so on a cold Tuesday morning, we met up with him in the heart of Amsterdam to discuss his brand new book.We’ll be breaking down the scene’s defining moments, the role of radio and social media, and the shifts that turned UK Rap from a grassroots movement into a dominant cultural force. So get familiar with David Kane.How does UK Rap reflect British identity?UK Rap has been a powerful medium for exploring British identity, especially for people from diverse backgrounds. Through the book, many artists have discussed what it means to be British in a multicultural society, using music as a platform to engage with complex social issues.There’s often talk about using an authentic British voice in UK Rap. What are your thoughts on that?I think it’s something every country goes through when they first adopt rap music. Early Dutch rap sounded American, for example. After working through the US accent thing, there was a little bit of a North-South divide, but artists like Tricky showed that you could rap in a non-London accent with authenticity and skill.How did UK hip-hop artists approach grime, and how did timing affect their success?In the mid-noughties, I began writing for magazines such as Touch, Big Smoke, Trace, and nascent blogs like UKHH.com. These titles specialised in what was then known as urban music. I tended to write about hip-hop and grime, convinced there was a connection between the two. I interviewed a few UK hip-hop MCs at the time who were not receptive to this and saw grime as a passing fad, while fans were often less kind. Speaking to Juice Aleem about the relationship many years later—his group New Flesh has frequently been described as “proto-grime”—he made a wise point: “There was a disconnect, [it was like] ‘Hey, young man, come off the mic,’ ‘Hey, fuck off, old man.’ And that’s the nature of be-bop to fusion, blues to jazz.” Like many things, timing can be everything. Klashnekoff—who collaborated with Terra Firma and was very positive about grime despite being considered a UK hip-hop MC—could have been huge if he had been born ten years later. He’s a versatile MC with great imagination, but he was probably too raw for the time. Durrty Goodz is another example, albeit coming from a grime background with an openness to hip-hop. Outside the scene, these artists were met with a mostly uninterested music and media industry. It’s changed now. You have someone like Loyle Carner jumping on a track with Unknown T that slaps, someone from hip-hop (or jazz or alt. rap as it's sometimes known) with a drill MC. There are still different scenes in some respects, but the barriers have come down.How did grime evolve from being club music to street music?Garage and jungle were dance genres built for clubs. Towards the end of the halcyon period of garage you had this MC-strain coming through, the aforementioned Heartless and Pay As U Go, plus the humongous (in every sense) So Solid Crew. Grime started in that space, but when MCs moved away from club-oriented themes - aspirations, champagne, heartbreak - and started telling real street stories, that shift happened.What changed when rap became financially viable in the UK?A few records charted in the late 80s, like Street Tuff by Rebel MC (who would later become Congo Natty) and Derek B’s Bad Young Brother, but these were the exceptions rather than the rule, and they didn’t make too much money by all accounts. The UK looked to the U.S. for formulas. Artists realized that by rapping over 95 BPM boom-bap beats and adding a hook, they could replicate the success of American acts like A Tribe Called Quest. British rap was still figuring itself out. It took a few decades before it became financially viable. Although, DJ Target told me a good story about Wiley making six figures in white label releases “easily” in the mid-noughties, and So Solid Crew enjoyed financial success, but even that was relatively fleeting. Around the late 2000s, things began to change. The pendulum started to swing from indie rock to artists like Tinie Tempah, with tracks like Pass Out, blending pop-friendly sounds with grime and drum & bass. Even though it was a bit of messy period—I doubt Skepta or Wiley look back with much creative satisfaction at Rolex Sweep and Wearing my Rolex (although I do maintain Dizzee Rascal’s Bonkers is a bit of a tune)—it helped grime and UK rap reach a bigger audience and find new opportunities.Who were some of the early UK Rap pioneers that inspired you?The earliest UK Rappers that inspired me came from two paths: the first was the garage MCs I went raving to in my late teens, the likes of Bushkin and Mighty Moe from Heartless Crew, Ms. Dynamite, and Pay As U Go, the precursor to Roll Deep, their sound took elements of dancehall, jungle and what we can now describe as proto-grime. It was more about the vibe. On the other path was UK hip-hop, artists like Roots Manuva, Ty, Jehst, and Skinnyman, who were more lyrical. It’s not to say that one is better than the other; I feel fortunate enough to have grown up with both, and it’s a—not-always-easy—relationship that I explore in What Do You Call It?How important was radio for UK street music?In the first 20-30 years of UK Rap, radio was crucial - it could make or break careers. Stations like Capital, Kiss FM, and BBC Radio 1Xtra played a massive role. However, with YouTube and social media creating their own ecosystems, radio lost some influence. The democratization of media meant artists no longer needed gatekeepers to gain exposure.How did hood videos contribute to UK Rap culture?Hood videos were essential in showcasing artists’ environments. They were the pirate radio of video, giving a face to street music. Channel U and, later, video platforms like SBTV & Grime Daily provided a visual to the culture. Before this, people outside of major cities had little exposure to the music beyond pirate radio (which had a limited signal reach), a few live shows and raves that were often shut down by police, and the trickle of mixtape releases available at record shops. (Although, as I write about, Napster certainly helped from an audio perspective).How did social media change UK Rap?The rise of social media and streaming platforms like Spotify created a digital revolution. Artists could connect with fans directly instead of relying on radio stations and magazines for their narrative. This was both a blessing and a curse: It meant fans could get a deeper insight into an artist's lifestyle, but often without the critical context that good music journalism provides.What role did Stormzy play in the recognition of UK Rap?It’s big and has a lot to do with the headline show at Glastonbury in 2019. I’m going to include a short extract from my book to explain why:Whether you like Stormzy’s music or not, it doesn’t matter. Everyone from Adele to Wiley and Jeremy Corbyn lavished the performance with praise. This was UK rap’s Woodstock moment. The culture had entered a new world where it would remain: the realm of superstardom and commerce. But to Big Mike’s credit, his performance was as much about everyone else—the legends of UK rap he thanked and, more importantly, those who lost loved ones after the Grenfell disaster—as himself. Do you think UK Rap will keep evolving?Absolutely. Music always progresses, and the UK scene has moved far. We’re seeing MCs from all over the country breaking through, rapping in a style with storytelling unique to where they’re from; whether it’s Pa Salieu in Coventry or Nemzzz from Manchester, it keeps getting richer. And externally, the influence keeps growing; you have Afrobeats and UK drill shaping sound, language and culture globally. It’s a beautiful thing to see. David Kane has written about music and popular culture for nearly 15 years. Bylines include Esquire, Dazed, CRACK, The Financial Times, and Wax Poetics magazine. He is the editor and publisher of Patta's bi-annual magazine. What Do You Call It?: From Grass Roots to the Golden Era of UK Rap is out now on Velocity Press. You can find an excerpt from the book in our Patta Magazine Volume 4.

Interview by Passion Dzenga | Creative Direction by Rogier de Reiger | Photography by Maria VaroGot love for bass-heavy beats with soulful roots? Get familiar with JAEL, one of the most compelling new talents in Bass and Garage music today. Known for his unique blend of deep bass, 140 bpm and UKG tropes, JAEL is making waves in the scene. On January 31st, he’ll be supporting Sammy Virji at O2 Brixton Academy, the same day he drops his highly anticipated EP Motion Sickness. This project is what he calls a “cocktail of garage, 140 and deep bass,” packed with infectious rhythms and layers of soul.JAEL’s journey is one of reinvention. Formerly known for his R&B and future beats work, he’s now carving out a lane for himself in the world of electronic music. As a long-time member of Soulection, he’s built a global following, touring the world and lighting up stages at Boiler Room Festival and Village Underground. His track Motion Sickness is already a standout, with its skippy, sub-heavy UKG beat and bars from Ghanaian rapper Michael Ekow. And that’s not all – on the same day as the EP release, JAEL’s got a guest mix on Tiffany Calver’s BBC 1Xtra show, giving us even more to be excited about.With Motion Sickness just days away, Jael is not only helping to shape the growing mainstream presence of bass and garage music but is also looking ahead to new projects, remixes, and collaborations—all while maintaining a playful, intuitive approach to music-making. Join us as we unpack Jael’s unique blend of influences, their vision for the future, and what fans can expect from this exciting new chapter.JAEL’s sound is all about balancing his soulful past with his present as an electronic producer. Whether he's performing on massive stages or delivering his music on the radio, it's clear: he’s got love for the culture, the energy, and the people. In this interview, we’re diving into his journey, his influences, and how he’s merging the best of both worlds to create something fresh, real, and full of feeling. Get ready to get familiar with the next wave of JAEL’s already illustrious career.Your new EP Motion Sickness is dropping on January 31st. It’s been described as a mix of Garage, 140, and bass. Can you break that down for us? How would you describe the sound to someone who's never heard it before?For those unfamiliar with the music, it’s got heavy bass with upbeat drums around 137-140 BPM. The 140 track has dubstep influences, with a bit of grimy energy. It’s very rooted in the UK music scene. I grew up listening to UK Garage, 2step beats, and artists like MJ Cole, so it’s that kind of vibe. When I started DJing, I was drawn to that sound, so this project is really me going back to my roots and producing something that resonates with me.You’re from the Netherlands, but your sound has strong UK influences. How prominent was UK dance music like UKG, Dubstep, Grime, and Garage when you were growing up?Well, I’m from Maluku, and in the Netherlands, especially in the Maluku community, everyone loves UK Garage and 2step. Back in the day, at most 2step events, like Speedfreakz, the crowd was mostly Maluku people. It was our sound, and it just stuck with me. That’s why I started DJing in this space, and eventually, I decided to produce it myself.Motion Sickness features Michael Eko, how did that collaboration come about, and what’s it like working with him?I got the vocal topline through my manager and I was like, “This is sick!” I was on a flight to China, didn’t sleep at all, worked on the track, and tested it the same night in the club. That’s when Michael and I got in touch. He’s amazing - his style and vocals are incredible, and he’s into so many different genres. We definitely want to work together more. I didn’t know him before this project, but now we’re planning more tunes together.The blend of your background in UK music and Michael’s international roots is quite a melting pot. What’s it like combining your influences?We both come from different places, and it just works. I think that blend of UK influence, mixed with his roots, really gives the track an exciting energy. It makes total sense for us to work together.Your new EP represents a shift toward more bass-heavy electronic music. What made you decide to make this transition?My DJ sets have always been high-energy, and I’ve played a lot of bass-heavy music. But I never thought about producing it until recently. I was a bit caught between DJing, singing, and producing R&B music. I even made an R&B album in 2021. But I realized I needed to push myself forward as a DJ, so I started focusing on producing electronic music with heavy bass and original tracks. It’s a new direction for me, but it feels right.Do you think your R&B influences will still be present in your new electronic music, or are they separate projects?They’re definitely going to blend. I’m working on a few tracks that mix jungle drums with R&B vocals. So, I’ll be singing on top of those bass-heavy productions. It’s still an experiment, but I have a clear idea of where I want to go with it.How did your time with Soulection shape your current sound and approach to music? Is there anything from that time that you still carry with you today?Soulection was a game-changer for me. I discovered future beats and that whole sound, which was a missing link for me. It opened up my mind to mixing genres. It’s not just about house, R&B, or hip-hop, but combining all of them. Soulection taught me to be open-minded with music, and that’s something I still carry with me today.How do you plan on mixing your soulful background with bass music?Early garage music was all about samples - chopping up vocal bits and pitch-shifting them. What I’m doing with Michael, and what I plan to do in the future, is bringing original soul vocals back into the mix. I love sampling, but I also enjoy recreating samples in a more soulful way, either by playing them live or even sampling myself and my own music. It’s all about layering that soul back into the sound.You’ve got a huge upcoming performance with Sammy Virji at the O2 Brixton Academy. How are you feeling about it, and what can we expect from your set?I’m still trying to wrap my head around it! Sammy Virji is a legend in the UK scene, and I’ve been a fan for so long. It means a lot to me, especially as someone new to this scene. The Brixton Academy is iconic, and I’ve played there before with Soulection, but this is on a whole other level. I’m excited to play a mix of garage, 140, and maybe even some jungle. I want to test the energy and just go with the flow.You’ve also recently played a sold out show at Village Underground in London. There seems to be a strong connection between you and the London crowd. What do you think it is?London has always been a special place for me. I’ve been playing there since I was around 24 or 25, especially during the golden Soundcloud era. I linked up with producers and DJs there, and the crowd always felt right. The UK electronic scene has always inspired me, and when I lived in London for 18 months, I was fully immersed in the scene, doing radio at Rinse and connecting with promoters. It just resonates with me, and the crowd there gives that energy right back.You’ve done some massive performances, including the iconic show at Boiler Room Festival. What does it mean to you to play at these big events?These big shows are crucial. I use them to test new ideas and take risks. For example, at the Boiler Room Festival in London, I played an edit I’d made the night before, and I was nervous since it was a jungle edit in the UK, the birthplace of jungle music. But those moments, where you take risks and see how the crowd reacts, are everything to me. It’s all about pushing myself and challenging myself to grow as a DJ. Even though big crowds can be tough to read, when you hit the right vibe, it’s pure magic.With your improv-heavy sets, how do you prepare for a radio show like your upcoming guest mix for Tiffany Calvin on BBC Radio 1Xtra?For radio shows, I definitely prepare a bit more. For this one, since it’s dropping on the release day of my EP, I focused on tracks that fit the vibe of the EP. I dig for new music, pick tracks that fit the mood, and then create a playlist. I usually go in with about 40 to 50 tracks, even though the set is only 30 minutes. I like having options, so I can freestyle and decide what feels right in the moment.It seems like you're getting quite a lot of support from BBC Radio One and BBC Radio One Extra. How important is radio to you, and how has it influenced your career?It’s huge! Radio is still an amazing platform for me. Not everyone is checking music blogs or streaming platforms, so hearing your track on the radio is a big deal, especially for people who aren’t tuned into the usual platforms. It’s also great for reaching new listeners, which is something I really want to do. Radio still means a lot to me. I’m one of those who only really listens to radio when I’m deep cleaning my house, but when I do, I tune into Jamz Supernova or Benji B. They’ve really supported me a lot, especially with their radio plays and by picking me as the EP of the month.It’s one of the best ways to share and connect with a broader audience. Streaming is big, but radio still plays a big role, especially in reaching those who aren’t as involved in the digital space. The power of taste-makers like Jamz Supernova and Benji B has been key in helping drive music forward. Radio can create entire scenes, just as these taste-makers have shaped the future of festival and club culture. With garage music and bass music making a big comeback in the last five years, what do you think your role is in pushing the genre forward?I’m really excited that garage and bass are making their way into the mainstream. It's something I’ve been watching for years, and I’m so happy to see it getting recognition. As a DJ and producer, I feel like I’m helping introduce new sounds. We were playing things like Brazilian Funk or Amapiano before they hit the mainstream, and it’s exciting to see that movement evolve. As DJs, we’re kind of like educators, introducing new genres to listeners, and when they finally click, it's amazing. I’m always curious about where this scene is going, especially how bass music is blending with other genres. It’s an exciting time.Do you think the mainstream recognition of these genres is beneficial for the culture?Yeah, 100%. It’s great to see these genres get bigger visibility. For young people who only see house or techno parties around them, having bass and garage in the mainstream gives them more options and spaces to explore. It’s important to keep these scenes alive and growing, especially for young, new fans.With all that in mind, can you walk us through your creative process for this EP? Were there any specific rituals or environments that helped you channel your sound?A lot of my inspiration came from festivals I went to last year, like Bass Coast, Lowlands, and Boiler Room in London. I went with the mindset of not just partying, but really observing, absorbing, and getting inspired. I started playing more electronic stuff, which opened up my mind to different sounds. I didn’t want to overthink it like I had in the past. I just wanted to create what I felt. When I was traveling, I’d get super excited about creating something special for the show I was heading to. That energy made its way into the EP.It sounds like you have been really living for the music. With that in mind, what are your long-term goals? Where do you see yourself in five years?My main goal is to keep creating music that resonates with people, whether it's electronic, soulful, or even commercial music down the line. I just want to continue making music from the heart that connects with my fans. Right now, I’m diving deep into bass and electronic music, but I’m also combining it with my soulful side. Who knows where it will go, but I’m open to any style of music. It’s all about evolving and growing, both as an artist and as a person.If you could speak to your younger self, the one who was listening to D'Angelo, what would you say?I’d tell that younger me to keep going and not stop. All that time spent listening closely, soaking in every part of the music, that’s what helped shape the artist I am today. Don’t give up, just keep doing what you're doing, and believe in yourself.That’s some solid advice. One last question—your music comes from such a genuine, soulful place. Do you think that no matter where your sound goes in the future, that joy and soul will always be there?Yeah, definitely. Whatever direction I go in, that soul and joy will always be there. It’s the heart of my music. Whether I’m making bass, garage, or even something completely different, that energy will always be there because it’s part of who I am.Before we wrap up, anyone you want to shout out or thank for this project?Definitely. Shout out to Killing Skills, who’s been mastering my music for the last five years. He’s been a huge part of the sound of my work. Thanks to him for always making my music sound amazing.On January 31st, not only is he dropping his brand new self released EP Motion Sickness, but he’s also supporting Sammy Virji at O2 Academy Brixton - a night you don’t want to miss! This EP is packed with percussive rhythms and soulful layers, blending garage, deep bass, and 140 beats in ways you’ve never heard before from the artist. But that's not all - catch JAEL on BBC 1Xtra that same day, where he'll be dropping a guest mix for Tiffany Calver. Talk about a day full of pure music! With years of global touring and a signature style that merges soulful R&B vibes with electronic beats, JAEL is about to take over. His journey from Soulection member to electronic innovator is just getting started, and Motion Sickness is the perfect introduction to the next chapter of his career. So, what are you waiting for? Stream the EP, grab your tickets to see him live at Brixton, and get familiar with the magic of JAEL. Let the Motion Sickness take over - you won’t regret it. 

Photography by Caleb FemiToday, Peckham, London-born alchemist Sam Akpro announces his debut album, Evenfall, ahead of a March 28th release on ANTI-. Evenfall's ten tracks - which include the previously released singles “Chicago Town” and BBC 6 Music A-List staple “Death By Entertainment” - craft an immersive sonic world, rich in mood and atmosphere - a flowing tapestry of South London noir that's serrated yet dream-like, psychedelic yet pounding with intent. Launching today alongside news of the album is its lead single and title track “Evenfall” a perfect example of the towering world-building and audible chemistry at the heart of Akpro's magnum opus. Fusing shoegaze-tinged guitars, an insistent beat and Akpro's searching vocal, it deserves to be a staple of night bus headphones for years to come. He describes it as existing "somewhere between a before and after space in time, where moments have passed & where events are yet to take place."'Evenfall' comes accompanied by a stunning introductory visual - directed by Pedro Takahashi, who worked with Akpro previously on the MVA-nominated video for “Death By Entertainment” - that perfectly sets out the dusky, inner-city soundscapes of the wider album. It evokes the early hours loneliness of a metropolis that never sleeps, where streams of late-night traffic rush past static underpasses, scenes of stillness and tension colliding.Speaking on the video, Takahashi offers: "'Evenfall' is a culmination of all the videos Sam and myself have collaborated on. Thematically, the video is about fading away in a city that is hard to live in. The idea is to express that if you pick out any individual in this city of millions, you'll find that everyone has their own grand internalised life, full of hopes, fears, dreams and failures.""Long time no see friend. Come around. Listen to this record. I know what you’re thinking. I fully agree. This will take us through this wild time. This will still be the soundtrack on those sunny days. Still hearing it. Sat tight. Cold nights." - James Massiah on EvenfallWatch the music video below.