The South-London artist’s debut record, Skin, led to numerous award nominations and spearheaded the modern revival of neo-soul. Exploring her upbringing, heritage (“19th Floor”), self-worth (“Skin”), and socio-political issues such as white privilege (“Feet Don’t Fail Me Now”) – Skin allowed us to dive into Crooke’s world, to see the experiences that shaped her artistry.
With her sophomore offering, Juniper, Crookes is revisiting her humble roots: “I wanted to return to the 12, 14 year-old me who wrote everything on an Argos nylon string guitar. I didn’t have anything, but I managed to find the essence and the core and the magic of music with very little,” she previously shared.
Though Juniper ties to themes previously divulged, here Crookes further introduces us to the woman that the circumstances of Skin crafted. Here, she explores the intricacies of adulthood: heartache (“Brave”), the realisation of the under-representation of brown and black women in societal beauty standards (“Carmen”), the inevitability of loss (“Forever”), and debilitating anxiety (“First Last Dance”). Though the topics may be hard-hitting and steeped in despondency, Crookes still finds space to allow the light to shine through, with swooning vocals and infectious percussive beats (“Perfect Crime”). Throughout, vocals remain reminiscent of Amy Winehouse, with gritty yet honeyed intonations detailing intricate narratives.
Opening with “Brave”, the thematics of the record are set straight from the outset – that from here-on-out, Crookes will be laying her soul bare. Here, between intermittent, prolonged vocalisations, we are welcomed into the enveloped emotions of heartache and the anxiety that love creates. This is further echoed through the sonically, overtly positive “First Last Dance” that juxtaposingly chronicles the pitfalls of chronic mental health.
Following closely, the first single release of the record, “Pass The Salt”, features the rap vocals of Vince Staples. Provocative and intrepid (“I got plenty to get off my chest”), Crookes is confrontational in setting her standards – if you’ve got something to say, don’t shy away, say it to her face. Not the only guest on the record, “Mathematics” enlists the aid of Kano to bring extra poignancy and depth to the jilty, neo-soul soundscape.
Shining a light on systemic racism and the underrepresentation of black women when it comes to standards of beauty, “Carmen” takes a hit at societal norms. Crookes notes on the track: “It’s for the women that I really admire and care about who have been diminished because of the way they look or the way their brains work or the fact that they have suffered from mental health issues and the fact that they actually have an opinion on something and aren't just designed for men!” More lighthearted and witty (“Now, what am I supposed to do with that, Carmen?)” than its precursors, Crooke’s demonstrates her admiration for the strength of women in an offering that simply oozes the divine feminine. Continuing this theme of power, “Perfect Crime” self-actualises this through a storyline set in a Western backdrop (“pistols at dawn”).
“Somebody To You” offers reflections on over-reliance in a romantic relationship (“Pedestal, I put you up way too high”) in her teenage years (“You’re in every photo on my teenage bedroom wall”). Boasting impressive vocals and infectious instrumentation, “Somebody To You” is a frank highlight of the record.
Crooke’s wraps up the record with “Paris”, a delightful reflection on her first experience of true comfortability in a same-sex relationship – directly contrasting the opener’s overt heartache. Joy Crooke’s baker’s dozen on Juniper is a triumphant foray that establishes her as a truly unparalleled artist.
