It’s easy to forget that ‘chillout’ – a catch all term for the Café Del Mar-originated music inspired by soul, jazz and deep house – was a big commercial deal; a pair of studio engineers plus in-house vocalists who gave a first platform to Sia, Zero 7’s debut album Simple Things eventually went platinum after its release in 2001.
The modern-day version of this scene remains very much alive in the playlist hinterland of are-they-real-artists-or-not on streaming platforms, but it’s also one Babeheaven – Londoners and lifelong friends, Nancy Andersen (vocals/lyrics) and Jamie Travis (instruments and production) – would like to see resurrected in all its former glory, the latter asserting, perhaps against the grain: ‘People are so rude about easy listening, but it’s the best.’
Yearning for some escapism would be justified given that the band’s stop-start career has, like many others, been radically affected by you know what, their first album Home For Now being written in lockdown and performed live on only a handful of occasions.
Buoyed by the under-the-radar success it found, there was a keenly felt raising-of-the-stakes for this follow-up, giving the pair a chance to recruit an extended cast of musicians to collaborate in a real-life studio.
Travis has said that the making of Sink Into Me reinforces their choice to decouple from the old process: ‘It was a conscious decision to move away from being a trip-hop bedroom-pop band..we did that on the last album.’
Growth as a theme – in the face of the personal and career blockers of the recent past – is the basis of material etched with obvious ambition; opener Heartbeat, with its vintage electric piano and Europhile, Moon Safari vibe scales not-previously reached heights of sophistication, whilst the Balearic motifs of Fading are almost as good as feeling the White Island’s sand between your toes.
Shorts and sandals isn’t however their default mode, Andersen likes to remind us, musing: ‘Somehow, even when we’re trying to write an upbeat song, it turns out to be downbeat.’
Some of this echoes on the plaintive 4 Days, a song which deals with the sudden loss of a close family friend, whilst the pristine duvet soul of Holding On is about losing her voice, a temporary condition that nevertheless caused a powerful funk of self-doubt and anxiety.
Travis meanwhile is insistent that the duo isn’t trying to write hits, yet in places like the sweetly wholesome Make Me Wanna, bolstered by a verse from New York rapper Navy Blue, it’s easier to conclude he might not be playing exactly straight.
Equally, The Hours – splitting the chanson and alt pop difference between St. Etienne and Stereolab – is begging to be heard, itself lyrically a treatise on being alone and yet simultaneously belonging to something bigger but not visible.
If there is a caution it’s in the feeling of diminishing returns as the album winds down, the swirling play out of Erase Me the most interesting part, whilst closer Open Your Eyes idles mostly in neutral, a trap easily fallen into when threading such wispy ingredients.
Chillout may ultimately be soul-hugging revival we never knew we wanted, and Sink Into Me powerfully makes a case that it can have substance as well as being a guilty pleasure.
Babeheaven haven’t exactly grown up in public, but now they’re now ready to soar. All everyone needs is a sunset of their own making.
