The Extraordinary Eska
A London legend is back in album mode after a decade
When I moved to the capital from Brighton in 2008, certain names kept popping up on various musician’s projects. Names who I had discovered while working at Straight No Chaser magazine four years earlier and who seemed to float across different scenes with an unmistakable timbre and texture. For instance, the hugely gifted Tawiah and the star of this dispatch – Zimbabwean-born, Lewisham-raised Eska.
In the space of a few years, I heard her peppering a Ty track with undulating harmonies on Mercury Prize-nominated Upwards, delivering a power lead on IG Culture’s future soul project New Sector Movements, then helping him to flip a p-funk classic by Eddie Hazel into a boogie bruk bomb for London’s more frantic dancefloors. If you don’t know what that last bit means, just listen and you’ll know how it feels.
Eska is the calibre of artist your favourite artist might rave about. True mastery of voice as instrument – tone, range, flight and resonance. The child of Shona worship songs and gospel in church, madrigals and opera, alongside pop mavericks like Kate Bush and master producer/arranger Quincy Jones. Skilled at playing violin, clarinet, cuatro and glockenspiel among other things. Her songwriting always prises you open with its honesty and breadth of emotional intensity, whatever the tempo or genre.
She spent years elevating the music of others including Grace Jones, Nitin Sawhney, Bobby McFerrin, Tony Allen, Zero 7 and Matthew Herbert Big Band, racking up credits on more than 150 releases. It’s a great way to learn the art of collaboration and get your name out there, but there comes a point when others’ expectations begin to stifle your development as an artist.
Her individuality got lost in the mix. She yearned for independence, for true self-expression, but didn’t know where to start. Boxed in and forced to navigate an industry that preferred to define Eska by the sessions she sang in and not the music she would like to compose and write.
Eventually, she “ran out of collaborations to hide in” and was forced to confront herself. What kind of solo artist did Eska want to be and what did she have to say? The thought of being out front felt exposing and made her fearful that others would judge her by her age, size or colour. What to do?
“I had to go and figure out who I was, for myself, my authentic self,” Eska reflected in 2015. “That journey was just as much about finding out my culture, really coming to terms with my cultural identity as it were, before finding out what my creative identity was.” She also had to reconnect with her womanhood as a 35-year-old.
Amid this deep introspection, producer Matthew Herbert set the following challenge in early conversations about her solo record: write music that sounds like what it feels like for Eska to be alive today. What a great way to frame it. They completed work on the project in 2010 but there were subsequent delays and further evolutions to come.
After testing the waters with EP Gatekeeper, Eska stepped forward as a solo artist in 2015 with her Mercury Prize-nominated debut album. An incredible collection that started as a constellation of sonic worlds. She then found a song to live in each one.
My favourite is ‘This Is How A Garden Grows’. The lyrics are deep. Restorative. Reassuring. The kind of song that makes you shiver in realisation. The studio version has its own allure, but live it’s on another level.
The album was a childlike “exploration of dreams and imagination” in her words, with Eska leaning into the role of producer and arranger, trusting her ear like never before and directing her vision in the studio with Matthew Herbert, Dave Okumu and Louis Hackett.
It was an enchanting, unhurried record born of playtime, like a mischievous folk ensemble let loose in a room full of toys. She had virtuoso musicians making their instruments from B&Q purchases and debris. Robin Mullarkey fashioning a bass from a garden bucket, a broom and a piece of string. Or Tom Skinner smashing rocks together to get the sound of a snare. This live session from 2012 conjures the mood just right.
I was present for her triumphant album launch at Rich Mix and it was one of the best performances and atmospheres I have ever experienced in our city. So many long-time fans and friends showed up to witness her victory lap. We all felt immense pride in a fellow Londoner who had grafted for more than a decade. Who had taken the time to consider the best way to apply their significant talent, in defiance of a fickle industry.
Since then, there have been fleeting live shows like her performance of kindred spirit Joni Mitchell’s Hejira with Nu Civilisation Orchestra and a headline slot at Lewisham People’s Day in 2018. Plus guest features on records by UNKLE, Dave Okumu & The 7 Generations and Shabaka.
Otherwise, Eska has kept a fairly low profile – Paris Fashion Week for Rick Owens notwithstanding 😁 – and dedicated time to raising her daughter Wonder. And why not? Wonder was born only 26 weeks into an unlikely pregnancy and Eska sat at her bedside for three months, willing life into her firstborn. In the light of a “miracle”, the music could wait.
There have been stints as an educator and facilitator as well. Eska was not your average primary school teacher, that’s for sure. This exchange on Instagram made me feel good about the world.
I read that Eska has also acted and composed for film and theatre, always looking to unfold her artistry.
Now here we are in the maelstrom of 2025 and the world needs more beauty, healing, something… You can imagine my excitement when I clicked on an email announcing that a second album was imminent. Ten years is a hell of a gap. The follow-up could/should have arrived in 2017. Has Eska still got something to say?
Make up your own mind. ‘Down Here’, the first song from The Ordinary Life of a Magic Woman, is a “voice painting” according to Eska, charged by a thunderous rumble of drums and screeching guitars. It’s the sound of the next phase of her liberation.
Caught in the rush, bones aching
Out of control, these sounds I’m making
Leave me alone, down here
Say what you want but I prefer it down here
The chorus of “runnin’ through my veins” repeated over is like an incantation, beckoning us down below to a realm of ecstatic release. A place where we dare not wake and break the moment, and let sadness or madness in. You should watch the video to fully appreciate the raw energy Eska is projecting on this one.
I thought it would be interesting to revisit an old interview I did in 2008, just as ‘Sticks & Stones’, her unreleased collaboration with Morgan Zarate, was storming London club sessions including Benji B’s Deviation. A time before Spotify, Bandcamp and all of that. A time when cdrs and dubplates were still passed around.
What started as a chat about her Herbert-produced debut solo album (then known as English Skies) soon developed into a heated discussion about the music industry, what’s popular and the meaning of success. A lesson was learned that day. Don’t assume.
Perhaps I’ll do a part two as a podcast, so we can hear where Eska’s head is at now, how much of this still holds true and what we can expect from The Ordinary Life of a Magic Woman, which arrives on 25 May. But you can preorder the vinyl now, which drops a month earlier. I just did.
All we’re getting for now is that the record explores the delicate dance between daily rhythms and creative transcendence. And that "It's the sound of a first-generation, middle-aged African British woman living in post-everything Southeast London.” That’ll do.
*****
– Edited under different topics for clarity and brevity –
ON UNDERGROUND HIT ‘STICKS & STONES’, SPECULATION ABOUT ITS RELEASE AND THE DETAILS OF HER “PROJECT” WITH MORGAN ZARATE
“Morgan [Zarate, of Spacek fame] started a project about a year ago with a view to it being a producer album. When he called me I just asked him a zillion questions: ‘What’s the plan? What’s the audience, what’s the label?’ That discussion was quite good because it’s given us time to think about what we’re doing and who we are writing for. Am I just songwriting here or am I Eska, the artist who is songwriting?
“To begin with, I wrote ‘Sticks & Stones’ instinctively as that was what the music was saying to me when Morgan played the backing track. Then we ended up working on two more songs together. Soon, we started thinking: ‘This is a project bigger than you or I.’ For instance, I’m not the only songwriter. Michelle Escoffrey, among others, has written an absolutely phenomenal song with Morgan. It’s ridiculous!
“If only we had the right artist to work with on it. We’ve been looking for someone for a while but such people are hard to come by. The major label interest is there already, which is amazing since we haven’t even figured out what exactly ‘the project’ is. Should it be producer-artist or straight artist?
ON THE DIFFICULTIES OF IMMEDIATELY PUTTING SUCH RECORDS OUT
“Nothing’s new under the sun. You can’t just put a tune out. I wish it were that simple. [Ed: Well it is easier now but Eska’s point is about identity and how you package the music, not where it’s sold.] There has to be an audience in mind and someone receiving it at the other end or you could have easily have the best tune in the world lost in cyberspace; not doing anything, not getting played… That can be really frustrating for you as a writer or producer.
“To maximise an audience you have to be really clever and think, ‘How am I going to present the song in its best light?’ Do I present it as me the producer or me as a songwriter with a producer, or perhaps getting another artist to front the material so you have a particular look and style?
“It’s difficult how the industry works. Once you find the artist you want to work with, then you pull together the writing and production teams. Then you spend a few months getting material together, forming some semblance of an album and formulating a style. Your act then has to embody that music.”
ON WORKING WITH MATTHEW HERBERT
“Matthew is one of the craziest people I’ve met… with the greatest level of sobriety at the same time! I think it takes a lot of sobriety to be that crazy. He has been a real guardian angel in the last few years: seeing the way he lives, what he believes in and how that informs his music. Also, the way he develops his ideas and being privileged enough to get involved in that process, contribute writing and vocal ideas. That’s always exciting as it’s not easy to collaborate. I think I’ll be working with him for a long time.”
ON COLLABORATIONS WITH OTHER PRODUCERS
“Well, there have been a select few. I know what I’m looking for in terms of musical partnership. There has to be mutual respect in the first place for you as an individual. Then there has to be a musical synergy that highlights and enhances what you do and presents you in the best light. And vice versa. I’m very fortunate that people have come my way or I’ve been invited to collaborate with some incredible artists [IG Culture, Jason Swinscoe and Ty, for example]. Whatever it is, [the work] must be challenging. I’m always looking for challenging stuff – to be forced to think about what I’m writing – and not to rest on my laurels.”
ON WEARING MANY MUSIC HATS
“I’ve worn many hats in my career. It’s something that’s enabled me to have a career as long as I’ve had. Whether it’s as a vocalist, a writer, a vocal arranger, producer or band member… I’ve done all manner of crazy things. This year alone, I’ve collaborated with Matthew Herbert, doing vocal and choral arrangements and recording sessions with his Big Band.
“Yes, I’ve had my season pop writing… for nameless names that you know! And that’s alright as it brings a totally different type of challenge. Pop writing is a very specific art. I absolutely love it but it can be frustrating.
“I always like the idea of putting a pop sensibility over something that is quite quirky and doesn’t sound as it should – like ‘Sticks & Stones’. Ironically, when I met Morgan, I said to myself he’s got such a strong pop sensibility in his production. That’s not something he’s ever done before. I’d hear his stuff and it would make me think of very pop toplines. He didn’t know about my pop background but thought, ‘Let’s see where you’re coming from.’ After our two other tunes, he was thinking, ‘Oh my god, I am hearing my own stuff in a completely different light.’
“I’m aware that I’m moving in quite diverse circles so I can work both on the more commercial sounds and the stuff that is more experimental, instead of just thinking about PRS reward. That offers more kudos for me. I’m looking for a way of marrying the two and I feel we hit that on ‘Sticks and Stones’. It’s a great tune for the heads but goes beyond the typical audience that would not know me or Morgan. It’s about creating and developing an audience.”
ON THE AMERICAN WAY OF THE ‘COLLAB’
“The thing I sometimes appreciate about the American approach is that if you were to look at the writing credits under your average pop song, you could easily find 10 names on there. You think to yourself, ‘How the hell did they get 10 people involved?’ Soon, you realise that sometimes it does take bashing a few heads together and being quite ruthless about the topline or the production to get that track to be what it’s supposed to be. People over there are open and realise that to get a tenth of a great song is better than getting half of an average one. And your royalty statements will testify to that.”
ON MUSIC LISTENING HABITS AND IDENTITY
“Everyone wants to have their own identity and they want it to be unique. Then again, some people want to follow fashion and that’s their prerogative. There are many of us who been looking for the obscure and trying to find a land of our own, as it were, be it through music or fashion. I’m like that but it’s also nice to share with other people.”
ON DEFINING ‘THE MAINSTREAM’ AND IDENTIFYING WITH ‘THE MAN ON THE STREET’
“What is mainstream? People like Elliot Smith would come over to England and sell out the [Kentish Town] Forum but most people wouldn’t even know who Elliot Smith is [Ed: More do now, not least because of Frank Ocean.] Similarly, Indigo Girls could sell out Brixton Academy or Royal Festival Hall within a matter of days. But no one knows who they are. ‘Mainstream’ is really a press term. Not a music one.
“And what does ‘the man on the street’ represent? Nothing really apart from someone who reads The Sun. That’s not necessarily a good thing. The average person may be into something not necessarily smart or sensible.
“I don’t know if the man on the street necessarily represents me. I’m not the woman on the street or the average girl. In fact, I don’t know anyone who wants to be average or grows up thinking that.
“Cinematic Orchestra [who Eska has worked with], for example, have their audience and a very big one at that. Jason Swinscoe has just finished a Hollywood soundtrack for a film on flamingos. He’s playing Coachella and all the big festivals in America. He’s doing big chat shows like Jay Leno. Does that make the Cinematic Orchestra mainstream? Well ok, it’s a bigger audience but I don’t subscribe to that way of thinking. Just because someone knows of something doesn’t necessarily mean that they engage with it. That’s the irony.
“In terms of economics, a person’s popularity – someone who is known and has a lot of media coverage – doesn’t necessarily translate into sales or a career. It just translates into being known. People seem to think that being known quantifies as real monetary value. No. It just means that you are popular and a lot more people know of you. The disparity between level of popularity and monetary value also indicates the potential longevity of someone’s career.
“Being known is a useful promotional tool but what is really fundamental is being known and having an audience that you maintain, work with and develop. That’s what every artist needs to have. If an artist hasn’t done this, they’ve merely followed ‘the fame game’. They may be well known but are not necessarily any more respected. There’s no sense of value in their work. You don’t have a career.
“Someone I consider to have done extremely well is Matthew Herbert. He’s very intelligent and he’s got an incredible audience. The average audience may not know his name but he’s been far more successful than most of the artists I’ve worked with who ARE known on the street. The irony. Getting our information from the man on the street is not really relevant to the music business and having a career.”
ON JOURNALISTS
“I think of people like Lady Sovereign, who got a double-page spread in Observer Music Monthly a while ago – when she hadn’t even released a record – and I wonder how did that happen? It’s simple. You guys did that [the press]. Then you have magazines like the NME putting absolute unknowns on the front cover and telling people they’re the best thing ever – and people just go for it. That’s the power of the pen. The irony is that in certain circles – the thinking circles – people are quite candid and are more reserved in giving an opinion.
“I got to the point where I stopped doing interviews because of the sort of questions I was getting. Questions like, ‘Does it frustrate you that you’re not successful? For me, that line of questioning is loaded as it depicts someone who is struggling, not someone who is successful.
“I get questions comparing me with people who are more ‘popular’. I think that’s a really lazy approach. Like someone saying that Eska is the greatest soul singer this century since Aretha Franklin. I’m waiting for someone to actually write that ‘in print’ [see below]. If you want great stuff to be heard in a bigger arena, it requires more ballsiness than some of the journalism I’ve come across.
“One Guardian interviewer asked me, ‘Don’t you want to be famous? To be a success and well-known like Jamelia?’ I just looked at her and said, ‘I am a success. What gives you the impression that I am not a success? You think Jamelia is making more money than me because you saw her video or something? It’s ridiculous.
“That same journalist will then interview someone you’ve never heard of and will call them the next big thing. Then, the public will think that person is great, not because they’ve heard them being great or they’ve seen them being great but because they’ve just been told. Journalism in the main is incredibly lazy, not thought through and not ambitious enough. I am extremely ambitious and that’s how I’ve managed to be in the business for so long.”
ON ACHIEVING SUCCESS IN MUSIC
“I recently received an email on a forum from someone about an open debate they were having on the state of Black British music. The more questions I read, the more depressed I became. By the time I got to the end, I thought what successful artist in their right mind would attend an interview like that? This bunch of people were obviously depressed about something. But I’m not. I’m having the time of my life doing something I’ve always wanted to do.
“This guy then wrote back asking me if I was frustrated about not being… ‘What, that I’m not in The Mirror or that I didn’t make it into the News of the World? So if you saw me in those papers you’d assume that I was a success? Ironically, having played the PR game myself once or twice, I have been in the Mirror… but it was all lies. It’s the game you have to play. Strange how journalists can’t understand the game that they’re a part of.
“I finished by telling this guy, ‘Instead of having this debate why don’t you have an online site that champions Black British music: be the first to say that X or Y is the greatest since whenever because, you know what… people might just believe it. You’re not saying positive things yourself so what do you expect?”
ON HER DEBUT SOLO ALBUM
“Matthew’s producing my album [originally intended for release on Herbert’s Accidental Records]. It will have heavy influences of folk rhythm and blues psychedelia. Straight up! That is what it's going to be, or at least that is what I would like it to turn out to be. Other projects are also in the pipeline.”
ON HER AMBITIONS
“From a vocalist’s point of view and as someone who’s involved themselves in jazz for many years, working with a big band is like a dream come true. And to be in the Matthew Herbert Big Band is another trip. Next, I’d love to work with a full orchestra: singing live and recording with them [Ed: Eska did that].
“I’m also trying to develop an online label. A home for my music and other artists’ music and to promote things I love – the cross-arts. Everything I do feeds back into music in some way. So when I discover new stuff from the worlds of science, graphic design or whatever, I can highlight it. I will be very much an ideas factory that will fuel me creatively.
“I try to explore fascinating technologies. For example, Matthew [Herbert] has this special Lemur, which he uses as a progressive sampling machine in his live shows that works by moving balls around a screen. Stuff like that trips me out. It pushes music forward. I studied maths at university so my brain works like that.”
My thanks to Eska, the best soul singer this century since Aretha Franklin. There, I did it. You made me a better journalist ❤️🔥