Nakhane’s third studio album Bastard Jargon is the multi-disciplinary artist’s most ambitious offering to date. With Nile Rodgers as executive producer and a dazzling cast of collaborators, including John Congleton (St Vincent, Angel Olsen, Sharon Van Etten), Leo Abrahams (Brian Eno, Regina Spektor) and Moonchild Sanelly, Nakhane was never destined to fail.
Lustful and rebellious, the record stands in stark contrast to its devastating 2018 predecessor, You Will Not Die. It was written while Nakhane was still living in South Africa, drawing heavily on the trauma of growing up gay in a fundamentalist Christian family. It was never going to be a party album, a fact underlined when it came time to playing festivals. Nakhane tells of countless occasions singing sad songs to people who just wanted to dance – a sobering realization of the fact that they couldn’t keep on crying for people. It was time to make an album people could move to, and so Bastard Jargon was born.
It’s a joyous record made for the body, or as Nakhane has described it, an existential sex album. A celebration of the gender non-binary musician’s sexuality after years spent apologizing for it. I’m reminded of the phrase “the personal is political” – termed by essayist and feminist Carol Hanisch in the ‘70s – a message that seems to underpin every moment of sensory euphoria Nakhane elicits.
A queer-coded pop album where sexuality, gender, politics and history all merge into something sublime, Bastard Jargon just wants to feel good. Opener “The Caring” expresses Nakhane’s pleasure to be living in an age of care, where the marginalised are increasingly empowered, or perhaps an ironic plea for even more, echoed in the track’s singular, almost frenetic falsettos.
“Tell Me Your Politik” is Nakhane’s pulverising demand for prospective lovers to be ideologically aligned, featuring Mr. Rodgers himself, and the ferocious rap talents of Moonchild Sanelly. The chorus-hook is so unrelenting it starts to feel quite abrasive, like a pack of wolves as Nakhane describes it, the result visceral and deftly unapologetic – a threatening temptation to dance.
“Hold Me Down” is a soft departure from the carnal physicality of other tracks, featuring 3D of Massive Attack – a moment to ground oneself amongst the noise, sustained by gentle chords, building synthesizers and Nakhane’s breathless, undying whisper.
“My Ma Was Good” is similarly cathartic, a forgiving and exhilarating farewell to Nakhane’s past, before entering into a dizzying head-rush of disco. In the past their energy was fuelled by exquisite ballads, but now it abounds between funk and hyper-pop, returning in experimental fragments on tracks like “If You Were To Complain”.
“Do You Well” featuring Perfume Genius is the record’s best performing single, and for good reason, its ‘90s-inspired, Minogue-esque basslines an exuberant, irresistibly GROOVY invitation to bed. It reeks of all the things we think we should deny ourselves, the things we’ve been conditioned into believing are wrong, and that’s what makes Bastard Jargon so perfect. Nakhane nurtures a space where self-expression is paramount. A hideaway from the worst parts of the world. And in the end, a gesture, a confirmation, that says: You’re safe here.
Cover image courtesy of Alex de Mora.
