why we love this
Darkened cloaks of instrumentals drape around a voice that captures an intense, singular, and spell-binding intensity. The choreography of sparse instrumentals and pop-influenced vocals makes for a captivating, albeit chilling slow dance in sound.
about the record
After a banner year that saw Lafawndah release her first album, Ancestor Boy, debut her soundsystem, Fara Fara, and make further incursions into film, contemporary art, and fashion, the ceaseless artist unveils another plot twist: The Fifth Season.
Inspired by her encounter with author N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy, Lafawndah both pays homage to and further extends the elemental, emotionally charged myths of Jemisin’s books—stories where a broken heart can tear apart a continent. In contrast to the precision-tuned industrial productions of Ancestor Boy, The Fifth Season breathes a different kind of volatility. Inviting a new degree of spontaneity and freedom into her process, Lafawndah collaborates with Theon Cross on tuba, Nathaniel Cross on trombone, Valentina Magaletti on percussion, and Nick Weiss on keyboards, who encircle her confrontational character studies with iridescent, cinematic chamber-bass moves.
These are torch songs for when it rains ash, creation ballads for when the earth turns inside out. Ghosts of the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Rahsaan Roland Kirk color the air, yet Lafawndah’s mastery of pop songcraft, vocal production, and razor-honed clarity of purpose cut through. In addition to the Lafawndah originals, The Fifth Season features interpretations of hybrid-folk godfather Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s “Don’t Despair” and acid-impressionist prodigy Lili Boulanger’s “Old Buddhist Prayer.” The album highlight “You, at the End” deploys a poem by poet-performer Kate Tempest to aching, rift-tearing ends, and French dream-trap wraith Lala &ce is featured on “Le Malentendu.”
The Fifth Season anchors Lafawndah as a descendant of forebears Brigitte Fontaine and Scott Walker, a born theatric whose acid humor warps the sub-continental undertow of her emotive storytelling. Lafawndah’s elementalism on The Fifth Season finds her imagination more agile than ever, and recent live shows have evinced a drive to push these compositions further out, deeper, and more aflame.
- 1 - Old Prayer 4:32
- 2 - Don't Despair 5:32
- 3 - You, at the End 4:12
- 4 - The Stillness 8:06
- 5 - L'Imposteur 4:58
- 6 - Le Malentendu (feat. Lala &ce) 5:04
€21,00
in stock
- 1 - Old Prayer 4:32
- 2 - Don't Despair 5:32
- 3 - You, at the End 4:12
- 4 - The Stillness 8:06
- 5 - L'Imposteur 4:58
- 6 - Le Malentendu (feat. Lala &ce) 5:04
why we love this
Darkened cloaks of instrumentals drape around a voice that captures an intense, singular, and spell-binding intensity. The choreography of sparse instrumentals and pop-influenced vocals makes for a captivating, albeit chilling slow dance in sound.
about the record
After a banner year that saw Lafawndah release her first album, Ancestor Boy, debut her soundsystem, Fara Fara, and make further incursions into film, contemporary art, and fashion, the ceaseless artist unveils another plot twist: The Fifth Season.
Inspired by her encounter with author N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy, Lafawndah both pays homage to and further extends the elemental, emotionally charged myths of Jemisin’s books—stories where a broken heart can tear apart a continent. In contrast to the precision-tuned industrial productions of Ancestor Boy, The Fifth Season breathes a different kind of volatility. Inviting a new degree of spontaneity and freedom into her process, Lafawndah collaborates with Theon Cross on tuba, Nathaniel Cross on trombone, Valentina Magaletti on percussion, and Nick Weiss on keyboards, who encircle her confrontational character studies with iridescent, cinematic chamber-bass moves.
These are torch songs for when it rains ash, creation ballads for when the earth turns inside out. Ghosts of the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Rahsaan Roland Kirk color the air, yet Lafawndah’s mastery of pop songcraft, vocal production, and razor-honed clarity of purpose cut through. In addition to the Lafawndah originals, The Fifth Season features interpretations of hybrid-folk godfather Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s “Don’t Despair” and acid-impressionist prodigy Lili Boulanger’s “Old Buddhist Prayer.” The album highlight “You, at the End” deploys a poem by poet-performer Kate Tempest to aching, rift-tearing ends, and French dream-trap wraith Lala &ce is featured on “Le Malentendu.”
The Fifth Season anchors Lafawndah as a descendant of forebears Brigitte Fontaine and Scott Walker, a born theatric whose acid humor warps the sub-continental undertow of her emotive storytelling. Lafawndah’s elementalism on The Fifth Season finds her imagination more agile than ever, and recent live shows have evinced a drive to push these compositions further out, deeper, and more aflame.
