Words by Justin Turford
Leaving my friends during Moodyman’s set to run over to Pinters to catch an emotional, end-of-festival performance at Houghton Festival from Alabaster DePlume was where I first encountered Momoko Gill. In a trio of Alabaster, the brilliant bassist-singer Ruth Goller and herself, Momoko more than held her own on drums and vocals. Haunting, ecstatic improvisational magic was woven that evening, the three piece band honed from touring and sparkling with a rare musical alchemy. I didn’t know her name at the time but I would in due course.
Fast forward a year to 2025 and her name was being spoken of in conjunction with another singular talent. Her collaboration with Matthew Herbert, the album ‘CLAY’(also on Strut), is a remarkable meeting of talents. A record of compelling sonic experimentation with a very human soul, the always progressive veteran producer in no way overshadows Momoko’s melodic, multi-instrumentalist brilliance. Let's hope there’s more in the future from these two as they weave spells together with an unerring instinct.
Growing up between Japan, the US and the UK, it is the latter that seems to have shaped her sound the most. The South London multi-disciplinary scene was her initial creative lab but it is the familial energy that emanates from the Total Refreshment Centre in East London that has helped shape this debut album. Well known as one of the key petri dishes of London’s exploratory, improvisational and jazz scenes, she recorded the album at TRC, self-producing with Matthew Herbert mixing the final tracks.
Unlike many of London’s jazz adjacent new bloods, Momoko didn’t go through the Guildhall/Trinity/Tomorrow’s Warriors music school system. Self-taught via study, practice, collaboration and a lot of live performances, her compositional and instrumental chops have a refreshing identity, a sophisticated clarity to her melodic and harmonic structures even when she explores her more avant garde impulses. There’s no ‘look at me’ solo spots, the song is the centre and whatever else is happening around it must serve the song. And she can really compose a song.
The short and spaced out opener ‘Satellite’ is an atmospheric blend of discordant bleeps, scratchy reverbed guitar and a delicious vocal that stops before it really starts. A field recording from the aforementioned satellite and a mood board to welcome us in.
The first of several fantastic songs on the record, the funky, jazz-inflected ‘No Others’ is a marvel of sculpted songwriting. Dynamic and ambitious with a killer drums and bass groove foundation, Momoko’s dreamy voice and searching lyrics rise and fall along a stunning melody line as Mei Miyazaki Kirby’s enlightened piano and Benedict Wood’s guitar inflections bring sparkle and colour. How she is drumming in such sympathy with Twm Dylan’s superbly twisty double bass whilst singing such a harmonically complex vocal is a wonder in itself.
A song written during a moment of despair and hopelessness, ‘Heavy’ is nevertheless transcendental in its effect. The lyrics may be searching for something to hold onto but the dual majesty of Tamar Osborn’s flute and Marysia Osu’s harp exude an angelic positivity, and then there’s the wordless chorus which Brian Wilson would have been happy with. I hate to compare but Momoko’s voice and even the way she structures her harmonies reminds me at times of Anna Ahnlund from the ace Swedish crew Dina Ögon and that is high praise in my book.
Loosely precise, Momoko’s drumming style is becoming recognisably hers by this point and it's her laidback breakbeat that powers the low-key orchestral epic ‘Rewind/Remind’. Soothing, even romantic flute, violins and cello join Twm, Steam Down’s Wonky Logic (on percussion) and Momoko’s bed of rhythm as she delivers another multilayered vocal that is achingly lovely.
The final two tracks of the A side of the album (vinyl obvs) carry the spirit of Tricky and Martina Topley-Bird’s 1995 masterpiece ‘Maxinquaye’. That friction between upfront female vocals and crunching, near industrial beats became a label money-spinner for several years but few ever touched the hem of its genius. ‘Shadowboxing’ is Momoko at her most direct, a clanging, punching slow groove that shouts of chain gang or factory work, a moaning dread tone and a lyric that hints at a final warning. The fucked up trip hop of ‘Test A Small Area’ is in similar dark territory although without a vocal this time as she squeezes together a collage of drums, indecipherable sample snippets and synthetic throbs before a nearly calming finale. Not quite.
Alone with the piano and Wurlitzer, ‘2close2farr’ is the great love song of the album. Never quite opening herself up to someone but always magnetically drawn to them, this uncomplicated song sails along on the effortless grace of Momoko’s divine voice.
Boom bap drums, sampled orchestral instruments and a lyric that is part dreaming, part self-realisation, ‘Anyway, I’m Drowning’ has a muted DJ Premier flavour to it, Mark Cake’s minimalist guitar and bass leaving a ton of space for Momoko’s voice.
I wouldn’t be surprised if even sharing the title of this next song was an illegal act in the compromised, immoral Western ‘democracies’ but at the time of writing it’s not yet. ‘When Palestine Is Free’ is without a doubt, the showstopper on her record, a song of resistance and empathy that deserves equal acclaim to Special AKA’s anti-apartheid anthem ‘Free Nelson Mandela’. A danceable, circular jazz groove that powers along with the twinned bass and tuba thump of Menelik Claffey and Oren Marshall and some fabulous trumpet and baritone sax from Christos Stylianides and Tamar Osborn respectfully are the vehicle for an instantly addictive vocal mantra sung initially by Momoko alone before being joined by a 50-strong choir made up of many of the musicians on the album as well as heavyweights such as Soweto Kinch, Alabaster DePlume, Alice Zawadski, Shabaka Hutchings, Ruth Goller and too many others to mention. Spectacular and powerfully resonant, we need more of this.
Have we come to see
We're only free when Palestine is free
Every light we grieve
Returns to heal the rhythm to the sea
Have we come to see
We're only free when Palestine is free
Long as we may breathe
We turn to heal the rhythm to the sea
No more rest in peace
A love song but without the doubts of ‘2close2farr’, ‘River’ exudes an easy breeziness, the music a tightly arranged jazzy-funky number that positively bounces with lightfooted joy. Tamar Osborn lends some gorgeous clarinet and the rhythm section of Momoko, Mei Miyazaki Kirby on piano again and Wonky Logic’s fluid bass make this tune pop.
‘Ineffably’ wraps up the album with a delicate hug of a song. Joined by Lyle Barton on piano and Twm Dylan again on double bass, Momoko’s words tread carefully through her inner observations and feelings, a reminder to let go, to care for yourself, to feel.
Momoko’s debut album is a remarkably assured, beautifully crafted record that bridges jazz, contemporary soul and electronica with a seemingly instinctual ease. I doubt that’s the case though. A peripatetic background can result in a paradoxical mixture of being self-contained but having an extra need for connection, and her obvious work ethic also suggests an artist always seeking to grow, to learn. For now, however, she is already quite extraordinary. 9/10.