Silent Jay

Journalist Will Brewster reflect on Silent Jay’s role in helping sculpt Melbourne’s hip hop and soul renaissance.

Few genres encapsulated the turn of the millennium quite like neo-soul did during its mainstream peak.

Driven by artists like Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu and D’Angelo – whose sophomore opus Voodoo is unanimously deemed as the pinnacle of the genre – neo-soul drew as much from classic ‘60s and ‘70s funk as it did from the head-snapping beats of the era’s best hip hop producers.

With its blend of old school instrumentation, funky low-end grooves and syllabic flows, it was the perfect blend of old and new, appealing to Motown survivors and modern hip hop heads alike. For a brief moment, it seemed that neo-soul would go on to conquer airwaves across the globe – but then, radio silence.

While it didn’t exactly go belly up, neo-soul certainly dipped out of favour from the mainstream faster than anyone thought it would. However, it’s arguable that neo-soul’s regression to the underground caused far less harm to the genre than some predicted.

Now free of the hype that accompanied its initial rise, the neo-soul movement became a key source of inspiration for many musical educators, who used the genre as a launch-pad to delve deeper into jazz, fusion and the myriad of other styles that it drew upon.

Without much convincing, students soon started to recognise the genre’s merits, and slowly put their own spin on what they were hearing. Working from smoked-out share houses and cramped university rehearsal rooms, students began toying with more complex chord scales and vocal harmonies, as well as incorporating intricate electronic production and staggered, off-kilter percussion to flip the genre on its head.

Perhaps surprisingly, it was the cultural melting pot of Melbourne that proved most fertile during neo-soul’s revival period. Blessed with a bountiful supply of venues and spurred by the city’s wonderfully collaborative – yet incredibly competitive – musical education system, neo-soul came to dominate Melbourne’s sonic identity during the 2010s.

There’s a number of figures you could deem central to this era; some are internationally renowned, while others are more inclined to fall into the category of if you know, you know.

Alejandro Jay Abapo – perhaps better known by his stage name, Silent Jay, or perhaps even Nap King Cole, another one of his monikers – can be placed somewhere in the middle. A notable product of the jazz improvisation course at the Victorian College of the Arts, Jay basically emerged on Melbourne’s neo-soul scene ready-made, and his impact was near immediate.

Not only was he a freakishly talented saxophonist, drummer and keyboardist, Jay could croon his ass off, and also had an uncanny knack for sample-based production, sourcing his inspiration from a stack of old records gifted to him by his uncle. Being proficient in so many different fields made Jay an in-demand collaborator for many of the scene’s heavyweights, namely Hiatus Kaiyote, who tapped him to join their ranks as a backing vocalist as they broke onto the global stage in the early 2010s.

While touring with Hiatus Kaiyote, Jay continued to make a name for himself via a series of his own solo releases and beat tapes, which were devoured by keen listeners across platforms like Bandcamp and SoundCloud. Ranging from dizzying sound collages (‘DEZURT’) and wonky boom-bap (‘twosugars’) through to futuristic grooves (‘DAT SCHUMP FUNK’) and lo-fi, Dilla-esque jams (‘udontknxmyname’). It was this slew of recordings that really demonstrated Jay’s sonic chops, putting his production and crate-digging nous right in the spotlight.

It wasn’t long before Jay’s beats landed him support slots for experimental hip hop titans Flying Lotus, yet for all the buzz that these chopped-up sample heavy productions garnered, Jay’s profile as a multi-instrumentalist and vocalist never dipped in the slightest. During Melbourne’s neo-soul heyday, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jay jamming on electric piano and saxophone with a band one night, and then again the following evening in a solo setting, turning dusty old samples into brain-bending beats with nothing at his disposal but a Roland SP-404.

It was when he combined both of these worlds that Silent Jay’s craft really seemed to resonate with audiences. A key example of this came in 2016 with the release of Sacrifice, a collaborative record created alongside close friend and fellow Hiatus Kaiyote backing vocalist, Jace XL, released on Bradley Zero’s label imprint Rhythm Section. Across seven tracks, the project careened from sparse electro-funk to syrupy R&B, with Jay and Jace XL paying homage to foundational acts like Usher and Boyz II Men in a manner that still pushed a uniquely modern sound. Above all, however, Sacrifice serves as a testament to the supreme chemistry Jay and Jace XL forged through years of close collaboration.

Jay’s natural affinity for beat tapes, crate-digging and sample manipulation also allowed him to effortlessly slot into a hip hop context, both as a producer and a performer to help creations from the studio to the stage. While he’s lent his services to a number of burgeoning local rappers, few acts benefited from Jay’s services more than REMI, the groundbreaking Melbourne rap duo comprised of MC Remi Kolawole and producer Sensible J.

Contributing vocals, beats and live instrumentation, Jay was a core part of REMI’s ensemble, and was regularly seen performing alongside the group both at home and abroad. Jay’s own artistic profile only expanded as a result of his hustle, and the bond formed between himself, Remi and Sensible J – much like that of Jay and Jace XL’s chemistry – proved to define the tight-knit nature of Melbourne’s musical scene.

This collaborative spirit reached exciting new heights when Zambian-born rapper Sampa The Great relocated from Sydney to Melbourne, effortlessly asserting herself within the city’s culture of creativity. Jay, being the sonic chameleon he is, proved to be an integral part of Sampa’s story, lending his jazzy sensibilities and hip hop chops to a smattering of cuts from her acclaimed breakthrough mixtape, Birds and the BEE9. This mixtape would earn Sampa one of Australian music’s highest honours when it won the 2017 Australian Music Prize, which she would follow up in spectacular fashion with her 2019 full-length debut, The Return.

While Jay’s influence on Birds and the BEE9 was certainly considerable, it pales in comparison to the way in which he’s employed across The Return. As one of the record’s primary architects, Jay contributed arrangements, production and engineering as well as several different instruments to the album, ranging from the jubilant soul of ‘Freedom’ through to the triumphant boom-bap of standout single ‘Final Form'.

In his role as producer, Jay slotted perfectly alongside Sampa to help reinforce the story told across The Return, and the pair’s creative chemistry certainly didn’t go unnoticed, with the album proving to be an even bigger success than their prior effort. The record was celebrated with several major awards, including two ARIAs and another Australian Music Prize, helping to establish Sampa The Great as one of the world’s most exciting MCs.

While Melbourne’s neo-soul scene has evolved massively since he first came onto the scene, Silent Jay continues to work just as hard as ever today. He’s still churning out beats at a record pace on SoundCloud, and continues to tour and record alongside old friends like Hiatus Kaiyote and Jace XL.

And even though it’s not too far of a stretch to consider Jay among one of the most important Melbourne artists of the past decade, you’d hardly hear about it from him personally – he’d probably be too busy creating.

The joy of it all, is that you could probably say the same thing about at least five other similar artists from his scene, and it’d be equally as true. While unlikely to attract significant recognition in their own right, it’s simply impossible to refute the impact these figures have had upon Melbourne’s music scene.

Be it onstage, in the studio or in our headphones, whenever these kind of figures are around, we’re all better for it, and no one embodies that better than Silent Jay.

This article was created as part of ‘The Record: Australian Music on Wikipedia' project which aims to increase the discoverability of Australian artists online. Funded by Australia Council for the Arts in partnership with Wikimedia Australia, Australian Music Vault, APRA AMCOS, Australian Music Centre, and Country Music Association of Australia.

Find out more about the Australian Music on Wikipedia project here →

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Will Brewster
Will Brewster is a freelance journalist and content producer who has previously written for MTV, Furst Media, The Music Network and The Brag.