Growing up in the UK, one thing is made clear - London is the world’s truest cultural melting pot. Whether mapping out its perimeter or its realm of possibilities, there are few limitations - something that has afforded jazz drummer Moses Boyd much experience before he announced a solo album. On top of accomplishing works with the likes of Four Tet, Sampha, Sons of Kemmet, and Little Simz, London has clearly equipped him with a mindset free from musical restrictions. It is this that has caused him to turn heads by being so chameleon while staying true to jazz’s groundwork.

Moses’ first full-length studio project sees him tributing the sounds he grew up hearing amidst the city; from the stoic smithery of grime beats, to the heartsore climate of underground dance music. Track uno, “Stranger Than Fiction”, begins with a lounged warm-up of horns and drums plastered with celestial twinklets and washes of cymbals, before showing listeners what they are really in for. Sudden edited horn stabs switch the flow to a Lord of the Mics-type menace, while hi-hats rumble from a drum machine to present the sin of artificiality to a very traditional genre. Yet, the group slides in cohesively with these more quantised, machine-made elements - it retains the night-alley swagger of old-school jazz and swing, however, Moses manages to make it tessellate with the fierce new sound of Britain’s metropolis.

Though the way the opening unveils the record’s ethos is a little on-the-nose, it turns up again in an even better form on the shining highlight “2 Far Gone” with Joe Armon-Jones. Here, the pulling together of these two worlds is superior, and with Joe’s free-flowing piano, they make the slotting-together look so easy. Not only paying ample tribute to the 2-step garage sound of the early 2000s, this cut also exposes how well Moses can cross paths with his collaborators.

Inhabiting the role of both a percussionist and group leader, his presence is felt all over his recordings; from the finely-tuned drumming at the back, to leading the innovative charge up front. For evidence of this, consider his 2017 team-up with equally-versatile producer Mura Masa - while the intentions behind the creation were very corporate, it shone Boyd’s ability to plant his imprint firmly into a track while being very generous towards his collaborators. On Dark Matter, he mutates this further by playing head hunter to scout out contemporary talent, including aforementioned keyboardist and Ezra Collective co-founder Joe Armon-Jones, Nigerian-born afrobeat crooner Obongjayar, South African vocalist Nonku Phiri, and underrated soul songstress Poppy Ajudha.

These go over admirably for the most part, particularly “Shades of You” with Ajudha. Her R&B vocals paint the track as the most single-worthy of the bunch, nonetheless Boyd takes the time to subtly reference the dubstep by way of a squelchy, Skream-esque bassline. Contrariwise, other meetings don’t go off sparks flying, instead more of a whimper. Namely, ‘Dancing in the Dark’, whose title can neatly encapsulate a lot of the album, one attentively follows Obongjayar’s cigarette-burnt passion... right up until the empty climax that leaves a lot to be desired.

Still, Moses leaves no balls blue for a majority of the runtime, incorporating and toeing the delicate line between the two polars of UK dance music. On one hand, the atmosphere of this world is very nocturnal and spacey - a kind of blue aura that carries forward the atmospheric stylings of post-dubstep and ambient techno artists like Burial and Aphex Twin. Tracks like ‘Only You’ expand on these influences, sonically illustrating the grimness of his home with pollutinous sub-bass and echoed voice samples that are toyed with enough to dodge the ‘sadboi electro‘ cliche.

On the other hand, within the frost lies moments of liveliness. His drums usually signal the idea of being lifted into life with this immediate syncopation, continuing to find and bring out the dancefloor qualities of jazz in this work, much in the same way LCD Soundsystem did with post-punk during their monolithic three-album run. Like James Murphy and the gang, Boyd does not compromise the root genre in the process; there are moments of jazz magic here. ‘BTB’ is an excellent piece of art-deco, mid-tempo funk that transports to a high-class party setting drenched with velvet, fur, and diamonds - plus the track that succeeds it is even more magnificent. ‘Y.O.Y.O’ possesses simply head-twirling rhythms; it has that special quality of constant instability that makes jazz so thrilling. Moses and company always feel on the verge of toppling over and collapsing yet are always in control, and that looseness only further contributes to the dance-ability of the album.

One personal complaint with Dark Matter is the somewhat lukewarm ending portion that’s served up. “Nommos Descent” explores comparatively little, delivering a simpler affair that doesn’t grab the ears like the stronger ideas previous do, instead leaving as quickly as it enters. Moreover, Boyd closes the curtains on the album with the eight-minute slow-burner “What Now?”. The first half is dominated by a golden flute that flutters through the gaps in a surprisingly acoustic beat. However, with only a rough interview clip backlit by a brooding drone later sending the record off, one can’t help but ask for a more explosive finale.



Dark Matter is a valiant effort from Boyd and with it, he has caught up with the forerunners in the new London jazz scene that is only building more momentum. Yet the project harbours a personal flavour that he’s developed from years of observing and enjoying the urban culture that also courses through the capital city. Simply put, if Moses wanted to make a diverse record that odes to his proving grounds whilst turning his music into so-far unseen avenues, apart from a few hiccups, he succeeds.