Fatima Bramme Sey wrestles beneath the combined weight of expectations, aspirations, and existential hardship. She is an expatriate, a Swede in London; the frustrated child of an absent father; involved in a transatlantic, long-distance relationship; a surviving friend to the dead. She doubts her own work ethic, criticizing herself for the things she hasn't yet achieved. The most curious element about the singer, however, the quality that makes her such a uniquely captivating vocalist, is the way she communicates these troubles—with a honeyed, masterfully wielded croon that leaves you with the impression she's comforting you about them.
It's that groovy, gentle-voiced extroversion that drives her debut LP Yellow Memories, a collection of "all soul music" that oscillates from genre to genre in keeping with the traditions of Eglo Records, the eclectic family of artists assembled by electronic producer Floating Points and label head Alexander Nut. Stylistically, Fatima could be compared to forebears Erykah Badu, Jill Scott and even—at her most whimsical—Janelle Monáe, but her delivery exudes a light sweetness, even when confronting heartbreak. She tackles the gamut of modern emotion: dissatisfaction and stagnancy, filial piety, the joys of self-actualization, the effects of technology, distance and the gutting loss attached to it. Despite the emotional breadth, Yellow Memories radiates a feel-good grace that doesn't encompass the listener in her despair, instead evoking the type of empathy one might feel towards a good friend.
Stylistically, Yellow Memories sounds adventurous thanks to a teeming roster of collaborators that includes Detroit house musician Theo Parrish, producer Scoop DeVille (Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg), and Floating Points' own 16-piece orchestral ensemble. The record is steeped in stylistic experimentation; she experiments with lyrical cadence and time signatures, as though simultaneously trying to prove her mettle and ravenously absorbing every genre she can get her hands on. "Riding Round (Sky High)," the DeVille cut, experiments with Middle Eastern samples and slick electro production, while "Gave Me My Name," a stripped-down jazz ballad about her estranged dad, features only piano and vocals; "La Neta" thumps with a more classic R&B flow, while overlong opener "Do Better" is pure soul, a bombastic yet self-critical cut complete with backup vocals and horn section. She's especially fond of tight, often dissonant vocal harmonics, as on the gorgeous a cappella benediction "Sun, Star, Solar"; her technical ability makes those moments some of her best.
In part thanks to its stylistic diversity, Yellow Memories lacks a cohesive narrative. Furthermore, Fatima's uncomplicated, rarely forceful voice is forced to take a backseat to the lush, elaborate production; indeed, if it weren't for her blithely mesmerizing voice—the spine that weaves its way through the album's dozen songs, supporting each rib with its breathy control and branding it all as hers, even when it's overshadowed—it could easily be mistaken for a showcase compilation rather than a fully-formed solo album.
While Yellow Memories is an impressive collection, it isn't a particularly commanding work. The good news is that, while this might have been a damnable offense in the hierarchies of the pop cultural past, Fatima luckily appears in an era that extols and rewards the eclectic, the adaptive, and the unfatalistic. Those are the qualities that shine through in full force on her first effort, and they're what will give her inertia. She's a motivated, deeply talented chameleon and her unique sincerity resonates, which means that while her work still posesses some awkward adolescent elbows, its maker is far from grown.
