It is curious how some instruments are considered to be earthy and human whereas others are thought of as mechanical. Yamila’s album, ‘Noor’, juxtaposes two instruments that fall into opposing categories. Cello is seen as being rich and emotive in contrast to the mechanical reputation of electronics. This could be partly due to the bodily effort of playing the cello, an instrument that is clutched to the body and requires physical exertion from the bow arm whereas electronics only engage the fingertips. However, that latter description would also apply to the piano which is seen as deeply emotional so perhaps an instrument’s history may be a bigger factor.
Of course, such a binary opposition is too simplistic as ‘Noor’, which translates from Arabic as ‘light’, proves. The album was born of a secret ecologic community and it does breathe with an elemental force, of landscape and nature. Another external factor feeding into the record was that it was written while Yamila was attempting to conceive her daughter and consequently focuses on the importance of caring and how little society values those who care for each other. It does reflect what has proved to be my naïve hope during the pandemic that the trauma would cause society to prioritise those who care rather than turning, as it is has, into a hellish free-for-all.
‘Noor’ consists of nine tracks whose sound has a core consistency, though with enough variations to reflect changing moods. With the vocals, especially to listeners for whom English is the sole language, acting as another overlaid instrument and emotion rather than a descriptor of action, it gives the album the atmosphere of a film soundtrack. Opener, ‘Embrasser un Arbre’ (‘Hug A Tree’) reflects a wonder at nature that is obvious from the title but is given weight by the way in which it moves from its opening cello as electronics give a more menacing overlay, strings which roam from stately to distressed and echo which gives the vocals a choir-like quality are added to the mix. The absence of drums makes it easier to be swallowed by and immersed in the sound rather than anxiously tapping along to repetitive rhythms. ‘Ascension’ becomes increasingly mesmeric as the electronics increase in pitch as they loop over the constant cello.
The Echo Collective’s strings play a substantial role in shaping ‘Sin Desarraigo’ (‘Without Uprooting’). There is considerable beauty to the track’s opening before timpani sounds a rumbling warning, heralding submersion of the tune by drones, until an altered melody emerges. Yamila sings words which translate as, “when I embrace that tree, I no longer feel the uprooting. It’s been a long time since I believed in what’s good or what’s ugly”, a sentiment indicative of a distancing from nature. ‘Lo Animal’ represents a dramatic centrepiece with its ominous, domineering strings and electronics matching the mood. As it ends, the strings have stilled, taking their cue from the choral vocals. The music matches the song’s theme of nature’s power and human fragility. Emerging from the crunch of footsteps on leaves, ‘Prado’ (‘Museum’) has a near religious ecstasy to its looping waves of strings and choral vocals.
In contrast, ‘Luces Robóticas’ (‘Robotic Lights’) has twinkling electronics and ticking that sounds like a mechanical clock before developing into something more rhythmically diffuse. A pair of English language tracks follow: ‘If You’ all gently swelling, beautifully emotive strings; and ‘Diamonds’ which is darker with sinister bubbling electronics, the mysteriously decadent chant of “Diamonds for lunch / silver for breakfast” which combined with a reference to plastics appears to be hinting at environmentally destructive human behaviour. The album concludes with its most formally experimental piece, ‘Vida’ (‘Life’), all pattern free piano, drones and field recordings that capture the crackle and echo of the natural world.
On ‘Noor’, Yamila makes cello and electronics seem natural bedfellows, a combination of light and shade, fire and ice, beauty and terror. It is a record that unfurls at its own pace, allowing space for contemplation while engaging with the emotions on a primal level.
Yamila: Noor – Out 6 February 2026 (Umor Rex)
I was editor of the long-running fanzine, Plane Truth, and have subsequently written for a number of publications. While the zine was known for championing the most angular independent sounds, performing in recent years with a community samba percussion band helped to broaden my tastes so that in 2021 I am far more likely to be celebrating an eclectic mix of sounds and enthusing about Made Kuti, Anthony Joseph, Little Simz and the Soul Jazz Cuban compilations as well as Pom Poko and Richard Dawson.
