Album reviews: Kele Okereke – 2042, and SebastiAn – Thirst

The chill vibe of the Bloc Party frontman’s new record feels at odds with its core concerns, while French producer SebastiAn proves the follow-up to his debut solo album was worth the wait

Artwork for Kele Okereke’s new solo album, 2042

Kele Okereke – 2042

★★★☆☆

New parenthood is known to cause identity crises. For Kele Okereke, after the birth of his now two-year-old daughter Savannah, that meant trading the jagged guitar-pop of his early-2000s dancefloor-invading band Bloc Party, and the disco of solo album Trick, for folky acoustica on 2017’s Fatherland. Now he’s swerved direction again, with a patchwork of influences spanning electro rock, African highlife and bossa nova.

If anything, this concoction celebrates the diverse society which inspired the title of his fourth, self-released, solo album; 2042 refers to the predicted year when ethnic and racial minorities will have become the majority in the USA. Okereke has answered the question he posed in his own promotional material – “In a time of such rampant division and public racism, what is the responsibility of the black entertainer?” – with his most political album to date, following on from his critically acclaimed 2019 musical, Leave To Remain.

Things get off to a powerful start with the lively “Jungle Bunny”, which melds compelling dance-rock with Afrobeats, and sets out the album’s theme of racial identity with arresting lyrics: “He’s gone full Ye, and he’s starting to feel like s*** might pop off … The security did not f*** around when they bounced my black ass from the club.” Elsewhere, on songs such as his “ode to the black women of London”, “Guava Rubicon”, half-spoken vocals don’t do strained lyrics any favours: “For we could run like jaguars/ Through the Serengeti Plain/ Can you imagine it?”

The pervasive chill-out vibe feels at odds with the album’s core concerns. He explores his Nigerian roots on the slinky “Natural Hair”, which samples his mother singing. The earnest crooning of “Ceiling Games” shifts into rock guitar and spooky arpeggiating synths. That’s not to say the songs aren’t well crafted; throughout, acoustic instrumentation and synths are blended to unique effect. If you ignore the key change, the glam-rock-inspired “Between Me and My Maker”, which shows Okereke still in thrall to his Catholic upbringing, unexpectedly breaks into a gloriously introspective coda.

2042 may be the work of an accomplished songwriter, tackling pressing issues, but it’s also a hodgepodge – the result of an artist struggling to find his musical voice. Elisa Bray

SebastiAn – Thirst

★★★★☆

Artwork for SebastiAn’s new album

The cover art for SebastiAn’s first solo album, Total, is a photo taken by Jean-Baptiste Mondino. It shows the French producer – best-known for his association with revered house label Ed Banger, and for his work on Frank Ocean’s Blonde – kissing himself. On Thirst, a follow-up that has taken eight years to materialise, he straddles his doppelganger and raises his fist, as though about to punch himself in the face.

Violence is a recurring theme in both albums, but on Thirst it feels more pronounced: the opening title track is an onslaught of dark, skull-crunching synths and dramatic strings, which eventually gives way to “Doorman” and the alluring, whispery vocals of Syd from hip-hop collective The Internet. Charlotte Gainsbourg, whose superb 2017 album Rest was produced by SebastiAn, channels another of her regular collaborators – director Lars Von Trier – on the haunting “Pleasant”, which in turn recalls the Nineties trip-hop of Bristol artist Tricky.

Total received mixed reviews for a perceived lack of cohesion, but here the frenetic beats and seemingly random choice of guest artists – from London-based newcomer Bakar to US pop-rock darlings Sparks – add a much-needed playfulness to the album’s otherwise serious themes of social and political strife. It’s one of the most considered and thought-provoking electronic albums of the year. Roisin O’Connor