Lahai presents a blissful new beginning for Sampha

Six years on from a stellar, soulful debut - Sampha is back, with meditative sophomore album Lahai to his name.

Throughout his career, Sampha has collaborated with top artists like Frank Ocean, Drake, Solange, and even featured on Kanye West’s The Life of Pablo in 2016. His first LP, Process, in 2017, reflected on the tragic loss of his mother two years prior, and was laced with overtones of anxiety and existential doubt, shining through unabashedly in tracks like ballad No One Knows Me Like the Piano. Sampha’s work has a unique way of worming its way into your ears and making a home inside your brain, and the raw, unadulterated soul shown in Process left listeners only wanting more.

Following a prolonged wait for new music, the release of ‘Lahai’ this month was welcomed with open arms by his dedicated fanbase - myself included.

The sounds on ‘Lahai’ bring pleasure and satisfaction in little golden nuggets - through ever-introspective lyrics, and intricate breakbeats in unexpectedly pleasing places. Most importantly, though, Sampha’s newest endeavour demonstrates a mature progression from Mercury Prize-winning Process, signifying a new period of content both musically and personally.

Process established a unique sound that blended soul with hip-hop and dance, with upbeat tracks like Blood on Me appearing alongside softer tracks like No One Knows Me Like The Piano. It’s clear that those songs came from a place of deeper suffering, hallmarked by the frantic instrumentation sprinkled throughout the album, accompanied by lyrics rooted in paranoia. Lahai tips its hat off to its predecessor - transcending the anguish that came before and providing a sense of stability, whilst acknowledging the journey that was required to get to its place.

Family has always been a driving factor behind Sampha’s lyrics. On Process, Sampha sang soulfully about the piano in his mother’s home, reflecting on his childhood and the instrument that was introduced to him when he was three years old. On Lahai, the theme of family is further explored; Lahai itself is his middle name and his grandfather’s first name. He also gave birth to a baby girl in 2020, with the onset of the pandemic presenting unique, unprecedented challenges for parenting. Even with these new obstacles, Sampha expresses admiration for his young daughter in these new songs, pondering how a sense of childlike wonder can be healing even in adulthood. Even on first listen, it’s evident that Lahai comes from a happier place, indicating a blissful new beginning.

I see you mirror me, we oscillate

Around each other's smiles

I think we found ourselves a sacred place

A space to dream out loud

From Stereo Colour Cloud (Shaman’s Dream)

In Satellite Business, Sampha explores how children can allow you to completely reframe your purpose.

Through the eyes of my child, I can see you in my vision

Through the eyes of my child, I can an inner vision

From Satellite Business

The theme of fatherhood permeates all throughout the album. I would go as far as saying that the track Evidence, towards the end of Lahai, is one of the most lyrically and musically bright tracks Sampha has ever released. The chord sequence is playful and sweet, and the words even sweeter.

Immanence, that there’s the feeling

Wake in the morning, and I stare at you dreaming

Little one, so new to things

Making me believe in things

From Evidence

There are still hints of anxiety sprinkled throughout the album, though not expressed in full force like they were throughout Process. Later on in Evidence, Sampha dotes on worries about his health and wanting to be there for his daughter.

An angel is teething, giving me more reasons

To watch what I’m eating and how I spend my time

The penultimate track What If You Hypnotise Me? directly addresses the power of choosing to heal, likening hypnotisation to therapy. The soothing, nostalgic piano sequence is hypnotic in itself, reminding me of the Lake Verity theme tune from Pokemon. Even if the song explicitly touches on anxiety, there is still a level of optimism at its core, made increasingly apparent by the slow swelling of the track, where the piano is joined by an upbeat breakbeat drum groove that has become so characteristic to Lahai. The outro of the penultimate track is heavenly - with French artist Léa Sen delivering silky smooth lines to close the song.

The instrumentation and production on this album are so rich, that this review wouldn’t be complete without a summary of my favourite musical moments. Throughout Lahai, much like through Process, authentic acoustic piano playing is accompanied by sequenced keyboards mechanised and arpeggiated to the brim. This creates a dreamy, subtle chaos in tracks like the opener Stereo Colour Cloud (Shaman’s Dream). The coexistence of programmed drums and real playing also creates a concoction that just makes sense - and the use of drum machines even elevates the rhythm in tracks such as Suspended. I also love that the album is rife with collaborations and little gems lent by a range of talent, including South London drummer Yussef Dayes, who delivers brain-scratching chops on Spirit 2.0.

If you’ve not already treated yourself to Lahai, I highly recommend you do so - it’s self-care in musical form. Here's hoping that Sampha’s next earworm is less than six years away.

By Lina Adams