- Zora Jones's first solo project in five years ushers in a new era with transformative, high-drama bass music.
- Every rebirth starts with death. And ANGEL CRISIS begins by luring you into a trap. Like a moth pressed against glass, Zora Jones's first project in five years opens with a fluttering, percussive loop that sounds like it's desperately trying to reach the light. Campy, distorted vocals add a sense of surrealism, as the Austrian-born producer murmurs: "Excuse me, can I please… talk to you for a minute?" Suddenly, that pulsing beat is cut dead by a sharp clap, the moth fried by the heat.
While this kind of eccentric world-building is what many fans have come to expect from Jones, it also represents an inward turn. Outwardly, much has changed since Ten Billion Angels, her visceral 2020 debut album rooted in footwork, bass and R&B, and inspired by CGI tentacle porn. It was originally released on Fractal Fantasy, the sci-fi indebted platform and label she ran with creative collaborator Sinjin Hawke. But all eras come to an end. Now, Jones is going it alone.
The name of her new artistic home, Bellyfat, suggests a more grounded, human-focused approach. This is reflected in ANGEL CRISIS's unusually earnest approach to lyricism. Earlier this year, Jones expressed that she sees this EP as a "bridge" between her past and present, and that process of transformation is apparent even before you press play.
On the EP's artwork, death's-head moths crawl out from the mouth of a digitally manipulated face in the vein of twigs's LP1. Folkloric harbingers of change, the insects are a talismanic motif for Jones (she even has a tiny tattoo of one on her chest), and on ANGEL CRISIS, this metamorphosis is more effective than ever.
Following the sudden death on "Intro," Jones's lead single "Beef" is combative, with a chiming grime beat and chopped, pitch-shifted melodies that radiate frustration, though you can barely make out what she's saying. But as whistles blast and warm house chords bloom, Jones lands on a straightforward accusation: "You lied to me." In contrast to her use of vocal samples as sonic texture rather than a storytelling device on Ten Billion Angels, it's a strikingly clear-headed statement.
An existential sister to Britney's "Gimme More," the hyper-femme "Make Up Bag - Part 1" riffs on hunger—for creativity, success, satisfaction, for more. An earworm vocal fragment whispers "never enough" over fidgety, tinny beats and sinister laughter, as the track surges towards big-room euphoria. It's just as easily a critique of capitalism as of patriarchy, and it's possibly no coincidence that Jones spoke up about a peer who warned her that a "sexualised" image could risk her artistic credibility. With a breathy, climactic oh yeah as the beat drops, "Make Up Bag - Part 1" sticks two fingers up.
Building on the cinematic dread of earlier tracks ("Low Orbit Ion Canon"), ANGEL CRISIS's title track rages harder still: gasping breaths, percussive artillery and wobbling bass stack higher and higher, while she yells "jump, jump, jump" with the rhythmic aggression of spamming punches on Street Fighter.
But by closer "Tokyo Tears," Jones's defenses have dropped. Across sparkling glissando, she sings, gently, "I think I know what you're missing." Without heavy processing, her voice sounds emphatically blunt, but this time with vulnerability, rather than anger. It's not clear if she's singing to herself or to another, but after the chest-rattling bass kicks in, synths crash and vox fragments metamorphose into a distorted choir, everything drops away, leaving a pitch-up voice offering the true sentiment at the heart of ANGEL CRISIS: "We're done for good if we get what we're looking for."
Tracklist01. Intro
02. Beef
03. Makeup Bag - Part 1
04. Diorpaint
05. Angel Crisis
06. Tokyo Tears