Ego Ella May
Honey For Wounds
UpperRoom Records
Listen Below
The debut album from South Londoner Ego Ella May emerges as the first release from John Boyega’s UpperRoom record label—an arm of his burgeoning UpperRoom Entertainment enterprise and can be understood, in the broadest sense, from the title. Honey For Wounds demonstrates both the gaping sores of the artist’s heart and soul, and the pouring of the musical balm upon them for her healing and our edification.
It is easy to see why this release is spearheading the label’s foray into the crowded music marketplace —the pedigree of those involved is impeccable. Many of them form the backdrop to the genre-blending, pan-global scene that fuses jazz, soul and elements of hip hop and grime to create a unique style that resonates worldwide. Andrew Ashong, Alfa Mist, Theo Croker and Eddie Hick from Sons of Kemet all contribute (among others) to the excellent fare on offer.
But the constant throughout is the voice (both lyrical and literal) of Ego Ella May. The future may yet show she has the raw vocal power of those great soul singers raised in the church and trained to endure over a raucous, eulogizing congregation. But here, her tones are honeyed, delicate and restrained with a hint of brittleness to accentuate the emotional fault line that lurks just beneath the surface of her lyrics—they are a perfect match for the material.
Apple Music labels the album as “neo-soul” and it is easy to see why—the opening sound is the sanctity of an organ and a muted trumpet wailing in the background while a subdued, dampened hip-hop beat moves the track forward. The immediate comparison that came to mind though was the work done by 4Hero (the duo comprised of Mark "Marc Mac" Clair & Denis "Dego" McFarlane) on their various albums, with just a touch more organic feel to proceedings.
That trumpet on the opener “Alright” belongs to Theo Croker and it adds a plaintive, solemn tone to a song that pays testament to the power of feeling okay after a sustained period of being anything but, particularly in lines like, “Missed the bus by a second or two / I’d usually screw / But today its ok / I’m alright / and that’s the most I’ve said in a while / With a genuine smile.”
The everyday lyricism is a big part of the charm of the album—this is clearly an artist grounded in the world we all know, recognize and live in. There are no airs or graces here. To be blunt, this shit is real.
“Table For One” exhibits this touch again. Sunshine keys and a warm bass hide heartbreak as she sings of singledom and the frustrations of trying to make something work that resolutely won’t (“My baby said he wants to be free / But where does that leave me? / Tried rubbing crystals and singing chants / Ways I thought I could channel his heart / But it just won’t work for me / No more”).
What marks it out though are two intriguing characteristics. Firstly, May’s phrasing of the lyrics and her vocal runs during the bridge are unusual and extremely effective—they mirror the uncertainty and emotional upheaval at play in the lyrics. Furthermore, the instrumentation bares its jazz teeth, a maelstrom of guitar, keys and some skittish drumming make for an intoxicating brew.
“How Long ‘Til We’re Home” is a light and blissfully breezy tune but reveals the weatherworn delivery of a faintly hopeless artist who reflects the biblical theme of returning home or finding the promised land (“Breaking news at 6pm / Disappointed by government / Rich get richer as poor ones weep / Same depiction on every screen / And it’s like the whole world / Is running from the burn”).
And the pattern continues unabated for the duration of the album. Some sweet layered vocals add to the feeling of being embraced warmly despite the sometimes challenging lyrical content. A point she is well aware of and comments on with great conviction during “Girls Don’t Always Sing About Boys,” confiding, “I’ll raise the issues / With a nice beat behind me / Singing it sweet so you’ll still buy me / As I rethink the norm, like,” and later listing the things that take up her time: “I can’t always think about boys / Cos I’ve been reading about / Air Pollution sustainable fashion / learnt behaviors, why it all happens.”
Elsewhere that same angst manifests in different ways. There is the feeling of letting down those we love on “In The Morning” and the Badu-like “Science” which sparkles with some celestial keyboard lines and her deft lyrical touch: “I cried in Igbo / Don’t even speak my mother tongue / But everyone knows, we cry in the same language.”
Other influences shuffle into sight later in the album. “Give A Little” has some faint echoes of Janelle Monáe’s “Don't Judge Me” in its melody and guitar sound, while Jill Scott gets namechecked on album closer “For Those Who Left.”
Those influences, and others, lurk in the shadows throughout but it’s testament to May’s artistic strength that they never threaten to cloud her efforts—this debut is revealing of a multi-faceted force to be reckoned with. Not at some point in the future, but right now.
Notable Tracks: “Girls Don’t Always Sing About Boys” | “How Long ‘Til We’re Home” | “Science” | “Table For One”
BUY Honey For Wounds via Bandcamp
Note: As an Amazon affiliate partner, Albumism may earn commissions from purchases of vinyl records, CDs and digital music featured on our site.
LISTEN: