It was a small, intimate gig, and Zola Jesus’s act comprised one teeny-tiny woman accompanied only by synths and a small drum kit. But the sound at Toynbee Studios in London last night was enormous.
Pacing about the stage like a small blonde vulture, dressed in flowing white, the woman behind Zola Jesus, Nika Roza Danilova, admitted feeling “particularly nervous” about this gig to launch her new album Conatus. But she need not have been – Danilova’s diminutive size and quiet demeanor belie a musical power and sophistication that is a pleasure to experience. And the new album is something she can proudly bellow from the rooftops.
Zola Jesus’s previous offering, the darkly intelligent Stridulum II, set Danilova up as a woman to watch. Her masterful voice, sparsh arrangements, military-style drums and borderline melodrama created a sonic trademark right from the outset. She hasn’t strayed too far from this distinctive sound with the new album, but she’s definitely continued to experiment, adding extra layers of voice and melody, playing with tempo and exploring new avenues of percussion.
The result is that Conatus leaps from the solid foundations of the previous album and simply soars. ‘Vessel’ is darkly intense, ending in a crescendo of drums and cymbals that blows your ears off, while the other single, ‘Seekir’, is almost a pop tune, albeit a slightly sad and rather difficult one.
‘Shivers’ lives up to its name, stepping up the tempo but retaining is pessimism and so feeling rather eerie. ‘Skin’ marries a lovely vintage piano sound with quietly wailing backing tracks, and feels intimately raw.
Last night’s small venue provided an opportunity to experience Zola Jesus on a more intimate scale, and the new album feels the same. Stridulum II seemed to rely a little on repetitive, stock lyrics to retain its minimalism, but Conatus feels much more personal, and its words convey emotions that hurt just a little bit.
Last night’s performance was challenging, exciting and sonically huge. The drums, tensely strained synths, and Danilova’s fraught manner and mighty voice combined to create a sort of adrenaline rush not expected from an arty gig in a genteel old theatre. I left feeling like I’d spent hours in an emotional mosh pit, a little battered and bruised but completely buzzing. And listening to the new album today, I’m pretty sure that buzz is going to last.