Growing up near a similarly music-rich city which relies so much on the innovations of its varied immigrant population (albeit an ocean away), much of my time as a student of popular music has been focused on decoding London’s history of sound from a distance. Subcultures that existed for a brief burst of time still bleed into the lineage of so much music that followed, to the point that these strains of sound—from the British Invasion to two-tone to jungle to grime—are now a carefully traced history preserved in museums. All things considered, that sixty-year stretch, so often in conversation with the city’s American counterparts, hasn’t accounted for as much time in our broader history as a species, allowing younger musicians to borrow elements from each movement in their own new music, creating blended anarchy anew.
The internet and its ability to condense decades into a single palette of sounds, stripping them of context (for better or for worse), have helped on this front, giving digital-native musicians the freedom to unravel and revive old sounds to make them new. Among a sea of short-form videos attempting to ape the sounds of years past, the true greats who will emerge from our current musical wave will be the ones who, quite frankly, actually know their shit and can transcend the trend cycle—refreshing these sounds once lost to time and making them truly their own.
DJ and songwriter Nia Archives has long proven that she knows her shit, placing herself in the larger context of London’s music scene—namely bringing the storied, physical tradition of drum and bass into a music world that finds itself in TikTok’s stranglehold. Having provided a version of “Illegal” to PinkPanthress’ remix album last year, she’s also placed herself in the current lineup of British electronic and dance acts with DIY roots who have successfully found a kinship with a rabid online fanbase. By the time her full-length debut record, 2024’s Silence Is Loud, hit the proverbial shelves, her work only further defied categorization: blending the deeply influential, frantic pulse of jungle with the confessional and whipsmart songwriting chops of the dozens of stars to emerge in Amy Winehouse’s wake over the past twenty years.
Though it’d be difficult to draw a straight line between Archives and someone like, for instance, RAYE, who has clearly put in her hours honing a similarly jazz-inflected vocal tone, Archives’ cracks at songwriting slot in with this particular London girl lineage—delivering love songs frank in their depiction of heartbreak, as vulgar as they are sweet. In her own self-described mission to render alternative dance music this generation’s alternative to punk, why not use the form to expel any demons you can?
Nia Archives’ second record, Emotional Junglist, works as an extension of Silence Is Loud’s intention to rip it up and, as they say, start again, seeing the artist more fully expand the scope of sounds she’s willing to incorporate into her creative palette. The most notable difference, in this case, is the foregrounding of guitar, often paired with the frenetic beats that drive most Nia Archives tracks. Opener “Feelingz Go Numb” feels like the most successful merging of analog and synthetic sounds, matched with string samples, vocal loops, and a punky bassline to drive momentum. Its follow-up “Around Tha Bend” and penultimate track “Lovers Grief” also make use of the record’s more guitar-forward production, with the former riding on a surf-rock groove through its runtime.
Despite the occasional bearing of teeth, Emotional Junglist is primarily a record of indie pop songs layered over Archives’ signature dancefloor-friendly production, documenting the ache of falling into and out of love from behind the DJ booth. These tracks are hooky confections that see her navigating well-trodden relationship minefields, like on the soaring chorus of the hopeful “This Could Be…” (“I’m gonna trust that things are looking up / Maybe you’re the one / This could be the start of something good”) or the Sampha collaboration “Tender” (“I have a tendency to pull back and withdraw / But I am tender-hearted in spite of it all”).
Still, the key highlights emerge when she is able to eschew cliché and add new textures to the proceedings, like on the thrashing, horny nursery rhyme of single “Danger” or the sparkly, interesting vocal production on “Train of Thought.” Occasionally, these new textures literally come in the form of a new instrument, like the refreshing vocal harmony provided by Jorja Smith on “Get Me Down.” Though the format Archives has claimed as her classic is still distinct to her and certainly enjoyable in standout moments, the formula tends to make tracks bleed together as the running order goes on. Archives is clearly a talented producer, and isn’t afraid to flex her chops when she feels like leaning into her stranger, more experimental impulses. Yet, as one could arguably say about her debut, a lack of variety in melodies or song structure might wear thin on those not already bought into what Archives is selling. For every “Feelingz Go Numb,” which blows the album’s doors open with refreshing abandon, there is a mid-tracklist mid-tempo entry that you might mix up with a different song by the album’s close.
To be clear: it’s good that Emotional Junglist exists, and its brightest, most engaging spots are worthy of repeat listens—making the emotional toil of getting blown into and out of love sound as climactic and intense as it feels in the moment. As Nia Archives continues to blend and re-contextualize the sound of her city, writing the copy as she goes for future music museum exhibits we’re certain to walk through down the line, her second record sets the stage from which she can further grow to be as great as we know she can be. After all, she clearly already knows what she’s doing, and that’s half the battle. Looking up to Emotional Junglist’s peaks, it’s clear she has what it takes to scale to her heroes’ heights. [HIJINXX/Island]
Elise Soutar is a New York-born-and-based music and culture writer.
