Anti
Variables is an apt title for the London-based musician, producer, songwriter, and MC’s fourth album, as Alfa Mist sleekly slides between jazz, hip-hop, and R&B, successfully toeing the line between accessibility and experimentation.
Mist initially caught the eye with his 2015 EP Nocturne, featuring a series of chilled, moody late-night contemplations. Variables seems similarly geared towards late-night consumption, the atmospheres a little grainy, although a little less claustrophobic than 2021’s Bring Books. Mist describes Variables as being about the “different decisions we make to get where we are today”. But with Mist’s voice largely absent, and despite some brief, much-welcome contributions from regular collaborator Kaya Thomas Dyke (who provided the album artwork) and Bongeziwe Mabandla, it is the music that offers the tone and emotion.
Jazz is currently experiencing a boom in London at the moment, and Mist is another artist at the heart of its revolution. Mist’s knowledge of jazz springs from sampling, but despite being a newcomer he shows awareness of its history. The brass-laden opener. ‘Foreword’ has tracings of big band and hard bop sounds and provides a statement of intent. ‘Cycles’ is a brief, woozy effort, while ‘The Gist’ pairs a solemn but soothing saxophone melody with a skittish hip-hop beat. It feels contemplative and controlled, but ‘Variables’ feels more improvised, twisting and turning in different directions, with some bright horn solos and some shredding guitar work.
Away from the jazzy leanings, Mist dips into some Afro-infused R&B on ‘Genda (Go Away)’, where the horns squall over a sultry, slinky bassline. ‘Apho’ has a similarly African flavour with its polyrhythmic percussion, and Mabandla’s soulful tones blend perfectly with the shimmering guitar loops. Kaya Thomas-Dyke provides an equally impressive performance over the melodic strumming and muddy atmosphere of ‘Aged Eyes’ as she battles with her memories, trying to move on from her “aged eyes”.
Mist’s voice only appears on two tracks, which is a shame as he shows himself to be a more than decent wordsmith. The half-rapped ‘Borderline’ is particularly poignant as he muses on the prejudices black people face: “That means you know who I am before I talk right/And you propose I was damaged at the source”. Over the thick groove of ‘4th Feb’, he’s similarly introspective: “Laugh at trauma, laugh at trauma/Part Personality, part disorder/Too much time out in the darkest corner”. Mist’s poetic offerings have real weight, but we only got a snapshot of his state of mind.
But as we arrive at his final offering, the frenetic ‘BC’, Mist’s reluctance to reveal his words becomes understandable. ‘BC’ is undoubtedly the highlight, a bombastic piece of jazz with some punchy, bassy horns, freewheeling sax lines, and groovy guitar blasts, the groove held together by the drums. Mist may hope between genres and not really land on one, but he demonstrates his talents are versatile, and no matter where he chooses to dip, he can create exciting and engaging music.