Album Review: Sampha — Lahai
Sampha’s penchant for intricacy pays off on dynamic sophomore LP.
★★★★☆
It’s been six long years without a full-length release for London’s soulful staple, but Sampha’s popularity has far from waned. In the years that have passed since highly-acclaimed debut offering Process, he has been one of the industry’s most sought-after collaborators, following link-ups with Kendrick on “Father Time”, Loyle Carner on “Desoleil”, Drake on “4422”, Headie One and Fred Again on “Soldiers”, Ye on “Saint Pablo”, and most recently a fleeting cameo on Travis Scott’s comeback stunner “MY EYES”. As a consequence, the announcement of the release of Lahai garnered parallel fervor and anticipation to his previous project - so expectations were high.
What is immediately recognisable is the inspiration drawn from Sampha’s British contemporaries in regard to production, with traces of James Blake and Skepta’s recent electronic turns apparent on the album’s opener, “Stereo Colour Cloud”, where adventurous drum patterns take centre stage, starting with a Four Tet-esque ambient feel at the track’s beginning before evolving into a drum-and-bass laden second half. Lyric-wise, the focus is on an excitingly fertile new connection between Sampha and another person (“I see you mirror me, we oscillate / Around each other’s smiles / I think we found ourselves a sacred place / A space to dream out loud”). A similar sonic formula is followed on “Suspended”, probably the most vocally consummate song on the record, which builds up to a glorious DnB intervention at its midpoint.
Lead single “Spirit 2.0” finds its beauty in its lyrical ambiguity. Sampha lists a number of things that will “catch you” - light, friends, waves, time, spirit - but it is not made explicit whether the catch is for when you fall, or for holding you back. Indeed, all the things he lists are fairly unique in their ability to do both. Of the track, he told Rolling Stone it was about “the beautiful and harsh realities of just existing”.
However, it’s the other single “Only” that steals the show. The production is a perfect medley of Sampha’s classic piano instrumentation, but with the experimental drum breaks that define Lahai. The cherry on top is the wonderfully catchy and crispy hook, which becomes more grand throughout the song, throughout which a brass underlay slowly makes itself known.
Despite Sampha’s proficiency at gliding on his features on other people’s albums, he rarely utilises the help of other vocalists in his own work. Nevertheless, Lahai’s sole feature, Léa Sen on “What If You Hypnotise Me?”, is absolutely bewitching and fits onto the track like a glove.
A grandiose finale is notably absent, with closer “Rose Tint” carrying on in much of the same sparse-sounding vein as the songs that prelude it, with notes of snappy electronic production on the vocal front interlaced with a tranquil piano underbelly. Lyrically, the album ends on a satisfying tone of family unison (“Everybody gather round / Gonna take this picture now / Everybody speaking loud / Everybody in one house”).
Albeit accompanied by an arduous wait, Lahai scratches every Sampha itch and manages a contemporary feel with a pretty clean execution of ambitious (and still fairly avant-garde) production.