Carrying Colour Nu-Jazz | Broken Beat 3 Items

‘SON’ was recorded in London and Freetown between 2019-21. Inspired by the pair’s shared love of choral music, it began as an experiment to explore playing with the voice in more creative ways, using layered vocals as an instrument following piano harmony, arrangement and sampling.

The project started in London with the title track and became a story about a world in which we hide our true ‘colours’ in order to fit in. A mother tells her son that he needs to fit in to survive before realising that she is following the same tropes passed on to her as a child. Following this realisation she encourages her son to protect his dreams and not to listen to anybody telling him he can’t be whatever he chooses.

Rosie joined Duval for a week in Freetown in February 2020 where they wrote the rest of the project, bringing friends Daniel Koroma, Kandeh Bangura, Valentine Coker, Chino Greene and Tom Herbert in for musical contributions;

“We were interested in bringing our surroundings into the recordings; leaving doors open, recording in different spaces and locations, inviting the listener to experience the life that was going on around us whilst capturing the process”.

Full-colour inner sleeve
Illustrations by Duval Timothy
Insert of a specially commission Julianknxx poem
Shrink-wrapped

“Son” will be released digitally and on limited-edition green vinyl on November 12th via Carrying Colour. The music was written, performed and produced by Duval Timothy and Rosie Lowe, mixed by Marta Salogni and mastered by Heba Kadry. The artwork was designed by Duval Timothy.

Sen Am is an enduring and tender album, rich and beguiling and generous in a quiet way. Over the last few years, I find myself returning to it, listening and absorbing, reflecting on the voices and working through the multiple layers of feelings and themes it announces with confidence and equanimity. Notions of care and contradiction, expressions of joy and desire and the underlying feeling of unease and turmoil; there is an urgent appeal to the listener for generosity, to strengthen our capacity to hear multiple voices simultaneously, to exist in multiple places at once.

Duval Timothy’s music was dropped into our world from another realm sometime in the spring of 2017. We received the call and we answered it. The rhythm and spirit was transmitted via London’s NTS Radio on the Do!! You!!! Breakfast Show with Charlie Bones and a short while later we were listening to the first vinyl edition of Sen Am in our living room in Berlin. The record got a lot of plays (at home and at some shows, before and after performances). It was like sunlight filtering through a cracked window and remaining there for a moment, dancing. Blue music emanating from a liminal zone, an in-between space, somewhere on the outskirts of Freetown, or rural Sierra Leone, or the outer edges of South London, or Bath, UK, or some undisclosed orbit, unfixed location. The music is soaked in diasporic experiences. It refuses to settle but still invites us to enter and stay awhile in that zone, where multiple forms exist (all) together with jazz, hip-hop, various strands of expressive electronics and experimental music all breathing together and moving around. It is a portal to a place of possibilities, a space for building and repairing possible and lost connections. But life in that liminal zone is precarious; it is life under duress; under pressure – not merely the pressure to produce a presentable, categorizable, and salable body of work, but the pressure that compels us to experiment and create new concepts and things that will help us imagine a different existence, a way out of the turbulence.

Freetown is a marvellous and sometimes sad place. It is one of those unmistakable locations inscribed diasporic memory; a place that touches you, a place that holds you and demands you bear witness: witness to pain, poverty, joy and desire. You remember the voices and the eyes of people even in momentary encounters. In Sen Am, you hear not only Duval’s recollections and sounds of Freetown, you hear family and friendship, people coming together and forming bonds, creating surrogate families. Forging community wherever you go is a practice, and community is at the core of this music. It’s in all the voices, from Emmerson and 6pac to Aminata and Aruna. It opens up a space for Black voices, for Sierra Leonean voices, and those voices extend through the succeeding projects, the 2 Sim EP and the album Help, and all that radiates from Duval’s Carrying Colour imprint.

Thank you for the invitation to write about the album Sen Am, on the occasion of its re-release which also coincides with the release of the exquisite double 7” Smɔl Smɔl with cktrl — a wonderful piece which calls on the listener to play both records at the same time to hear the music or play them separately and hear different versions. Duval is strengthening us, encouraging us to feel comfortable with discomfort, with incompleteness, with the hard-to-understand. This is a beautiful thing.