Rambling into noise.

Oscar Jerome is a guitarist I’ve been following for a good few years, and definitely one of my favourite forces in the modern UK jazz scene. From his vital contributions to the early days of KOKOROKO, to his immense solo releases, Jerome has always, to me, been one of the best our country’s jazz scene has to offer.

He returns with The Fork, his third studio release, following his magnificent The Spoon in 2022. There is a clear continuation in sounds and themes to be heard from the 2022 release, yet, with this being the first body of work entirely self-produced by Jerome, it’s a definitive step forward and his most involved and invested work yet. 

What initially stands out to me is those similarities between The Spoon and The Fork. From the obvious parallels by name and use of kitchen related metaphors, to the lesser obvious, such as between album covers: the reflection of Jerome’s face in a metal spoon, for The Spoon, compared to a bust of Jerome’s head in a crater, for The Fork. There is almost certainly a meaning deeper than my shallow mind can comprehend, yet to me this difference sparks the idea that The Fork is perhaps a truer, more encompassing ‘sculpture’ of Jerome, as opposed to a distorted reflection of himself in a metal spoon. This also certainly aligns with this being Jerome’s first wholly produced piece of work – a more established and ‘true to him’ production.

Opening track Desert Belly, one of the album’s singles, starts us off with a lovely blend of the signature jazzy and electronic elements Jerome’s sound so consistently gets spot on. The bassy percussive hits in this song also scratch a particular itch which is difficult to put into words, and produce an almost cinematic introduction to the record – more on this later. Listening to the opening passages of this album, even more sonic parallels begin to appear between this and Jerome’s previous work. Limits continues the lovely percussive and reverbed guitar complex, with an excellent solo (of which I’d expect nothing less from a guitarist as talented as Oscar Jerome) for good measure.

For the best summary of everything this album wishes to (and successfully) achieves, I would highly recommend watching the music video which accompanies The Fork, the third track on the album. This is one of, if not definitely, my favourite tracks on this album. The swelling, floaty introductory strings and synths are wonderful. Yet what I love most, is how the whole piece feels like a build up to the climax, which is an emotional, string-backed and cinematic-infused guitar solo –which has the perfect amount of fuzz to to cut through the rich noise underneath, whilst still remaining a ‘modest’ guitar solo.

The Butter and The Potato are a lovely pairing (both in this album and in the kitchen), and, although they may be two of the more understated pieces on the record, they perfectly showcase the elements Jerome incorporates into his music as a whole in just a few minutes: from rhythmic syncopated drums and percussion; guitar melodies which swirl in circles around your ears; and vocals which seamlessly flow from soulful melodies to swift raps, it’s all to be heard through the humble butter and potato.

Easier is another of the album’s bigger tracks, and understandably: catchy, with a (relatively speaking) clean-toned guitar riff and groovy backings, it ticks all the boxes for one of Jerome’s classic ‘big-hitters’.

Zimbabwe-born poet MA.MOYO contributes a lovely spoken word feature, through Borrowed Other, which is, first of all, excellently placed in the context of the album. I’m a huge fan of spoken word, and it’s incorporated brilliantly here. Over gentle but blissful guitar and percussion, MA.MAYO’s perfect delivery of a poem laden with imagery and depth has you hanging on every single word in a clarity which I don’t think could be achieved through sung words.

Hak Baker and anaiis feature on Worth Nothing and Smell the Daisies, respectively, with both bringing yet another perspective to this album, sandwiched around the mellower Make No Mistake.

Worth Nothing brings a great roots-inspired verse from Baker over a groovy bass line, whilst Smell the Daisies brings a folky, acoustic feel, with impactful lyricism exploring truth seeking, the importance of having heart, and taking a step back to look at the wider picture. All this is of course provided over rich layers of atmospheric sounds.

Sex On Toast rounds off the album nicely; minimalistic, fluttering bird tweets encapsulate this largely instrumental movement, with the final lyrics of ‘now I know for certain never felt so strong,’ summarising this journey perfectly.

The final passage encapsulates the album’s overarching themes and ideas perfectly; it’s an album reflecting on a ‘fork in the road’, and a journey of personal growth for Oscar Jerome, including spending time in Egypt, and surrounded by impactful friends and inspirations; The Fork is a fantastic jazz record. It truly touches the soul, and conveys an immense progression in production and sentiment, whilst also picking up exactly where The Spoon left off.