KOJAQUE
Nothing lasts. Childhood, creative cycles, intentions, relationships, plans, dispositions, moods, gaffs, direction. Even love. Even home. The mode is transition. In this space between, Kojaque returns with an album that contends with the past, and embarks upon a new future.
Following the landmark projects Deli Daydreams and Town’s Dead, comes Phantom of the Afters. Kojaque’s first two records changed the Irish hiphop landscape forever. Now London-based, Kojaque’s Phantom of the Afters traces the blurred outlines of childhood trauma, depression, grief and love. This is an album that finds comfort and assurance in the acceptance of the self, through shedding what no longer serves. Informed by the pursuit of simplicity, while meditating on heartbreak, home and health, Phantom of the Afters finds Kojaque reflecting on the landmarks of a young life, in all their beauty and complexity.
Beginning with a soundscape of Kojaque departing Dublin for London, and introducing the album’s concept character, Jackie Dandelion, this is a record rooted coming into one’s own authentic identity, as well as a new one of an Irish immigrant in London, grappling with the rejection of fame and status for the sake of it, senses of alienation, missing the clichés of Ireland - the delis, the Guinness the craic, and embarking upon a reconciliation with the self. “I don’t believe there’s any special place you have to go to in order to make art,” Kojaque says, “other than your own head.”
The album's journey begins with the physical transition to London on Jackie Took the Soup, foregrounding the myth, insult, and reality of “taking the soup”, a potent term in Irish society that plays with themes of national abandonment for personal survival. Larry Bird plunges the listener into self-asserted braggadocio, before reverting to the nostalgic daydream of Cabra Drive, while the heart is bared on Bambi and Woof (featuring Biig Piig). Fat Ronaldo / Covent Gardens marks a turning point not just on the record, but for an artist determined to open up, even if that means breaking down. If vulnerability is power, then Kojaque’s obliteration of performative swagger in exchange for a declaration of fragility, offers not just a life lesson, but a creative path forward towards revelatory authenticity. Of Covent Gardens, Kojaque says, “They say depression is hate turned inwards, and when you harbour hatred, it’s not long before it begins to eat away at you. I think the rage is palpable in that song. When rage subsides, it becomes sadness.”
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