If Nia Archives is shouldering the load of expectations, then she’s not letting it present. Over the previous 18 months, the Bradford-born, London-based producer has scooped up just about each UK trade accolade accessible to her (together with a MOBO win, NME nod, and spots on BBC and BRIT polls) and seemingly been bridled with the accountability of resurrecting jungle music for a complete new technology—all on the again of only a handful of tracks, together with many electrifying DJ units. But she strikes with the lightness of somebody who’s simply floated out of the membership and right into a cab, grinning for no matter’s subsequent.
She appears, rightfully, thrilled by the entire thing, and it’s arguably this unfettered, joyous contact that has introduced so many flocking to her flurried breakbeats. On Dawn Bang Ur Head Towards tha Wall, her second six-track solo EP, she pulls her jazzy vocals to the fore and dispenses with a few of the extra meticulous manufacturing methods that so impressively peppered final yr’s Forbidden Feelingz. This places her knack for documenting the trivialities of get together life, and all of the emotional tangles that path it, entrance and middle—and divulges the makings of a uniquely proficient pop author.
However first: “Baianá.” The opener right here, constructed round an accelerated, dissected pattern of Brazilian body-music troupe Barbatuques, is enjoyable with a capital Fuck Sure. Voices are repurposed as rave sirens, no drum is simply too many, and the one signal of a let-up comes within the temporary blips when she lets her bass and shattered snares rumble on alone and unaccosted. After peak time, there are strikes to be made on the afters. “That’s tha Way Life Goes” affords bittersweet rave gear as Nia Archives’ pirouettes in direction of a revelation: “Cos if it ain’t you, then it’s nobody/I gave you my soul, my mind, and body.” It is that the majority binding of vapid trendy idioms—“it is what it is”—injected with the potent shock of life and love. Plumped on marshmallow basslines and cooing refrain vocals, accepting your destiny by no means sounded so lush.
The strings that glisten over the bridge of “So Tell Me…”, in the meantime, are reminiscent, with all the identical tender feeling, of the soundtrack to Mike Skinner drying his eyes again in 2004. Like Skinner, although with much less affectation, Nia Archives has the power to depict life’s sordid, even perhaps regretful, kitchen-sink conditions with unguarded honesty, empathy, and understanding. When it’s not Nia singing, she turns her obsessive break-splicing expertise to provide Maverick Sabre’s roll-neck vocals an injection of funk in a traditional lovers’ back-and-forth on “No Need 2 Be Sorry, Call Me?”
If solely there have been extra of all this. For essentially the most half, these tracks supply snapshots and fragments which may in any other case unfurl into extra fleshed-out tales. Then once more, perhaps that’s the purpose: That is an EP about dragging out the night time’s quick finish, and making well-intentioned plans for all times’s daytime. It’s get together music for folks starting to really feel the tug of seeing a full Sunday for the primary time shortly.