Moses Sumney
græ

“Isolation comes from 'Insula' which means island

Here we go into grey”

From "Insula"

Moses Sumney is a thirty-year-old African American on his second album. And if with his first work, "Aromanticism," he had shown us immense potential, in this "Græ" all the potential becomes reality and he needs nineteen tracks to explode in all his vehemence.

I don't know if something better will come out in the coming months, but in the opinion of the writer, this is the best album of 2020 (there, I've said it, sorry Fiona Apple). Beyond the voice that, depending on the case, reaches up to the sky or darkens to reach the bowels of the earth, this album showcases a compositional variety that references black music, Björk, and Thom Yorke, in a completely personal mix. Brass, electronics, acoustic guitars, and strings: Moses seems to know how to choose the best outfit for each of his pieces and is not afraid to dare.

The first of the two albums is tendentially alternative pop and starts with a bang: "Cut me" is probably one of the best pieces in Sumney's entire production – theatrical in its intentions, deeply current in ideas and themes ("Guess I'm a true immigrant son//No vacancies, no vacations”). "Virile" is a piece we could define as R'n'B, combining an obsessive electronic rhythm perfectly in line with the addressed theme: the mental prisons we often lock ourselves in (Desperate for passing grades// The virility fades//You've got the wrong guy// You wanna slip right in////Amp up the masculine//You've got the wrong idea, son”).

There are claustrophobic interludes that act as propellants for the diseased and obsessive depth with which Moses looks at the abyss, his relationships, widespread racism, and the difficulty of surviving in a world that wants to relegate you to one category (“I insist on my right to be multiple” from "Also Also Also and and and"). The atmosphere is almost always dark, suffocating and Moses' voice, which frees itself to reach astonishing octaves, is the only element that manages to soar in the air and provides a good counterpoint to the dramatic atmospheres.

Other tracks that absolutely must be mentioned (in the first album) are: the compulsive “Conveyor” (which seems to have come out of Radiohead's "Amnesiac"), the dark jazz of “Gagarin,” the tribal sadness of that gem that is “Neither or not” (“You cannot be neither, nor / You have to pick a door / Only the lonely are lukewarm”) and the concluding romantic ballad “Polly” (with a very strong accompanying video) that leaves us taking shelter under a tree on a hot and sunny day in North Carolina.

The second section of the work begins, and we delve into a darker place compared to what preceded it. The first track, “Two Dogs” seems to take us inside a transfigured dream/nightmare (“I found two dogs // on the hot concrete of the back porch // one in amniotic vomit // the other in fetal contort”). Thus, the nine songs follow one another (all at very high levels with peaks in "Me in 20 Years" and "Lucky me") in an absolutely dark, dreamlike, and sparse atmosphere. And we return to the starting point: the difficulty of being accepted for who we really are and the isolation in which we too often lock ourselves out of fear of being rejected.

In short, this album requires numerous listens to be appreciated, but investing time in this complex work by one of the most promising young talents in today's music scene repays us in full. And if you have the chance, buy the vinyl: a true artwork within artwork – I hadn't seen something done so well in a long time.