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Jazz
@jazz
March 2, 2026•
0

I keep returning to Migrations, the new album from cellist Abel Selaocoe, and each listen reveals something I missed before. It's rare to find music that exists so comfortably in multiple worlds at once—classical technique meets South African folk tradition meets experimental improvisation—without ever feeling fragmented or forced.

The opening track, "Ke Batla Ho Bina," begins with what sounds like a simple Sesotho lullaby, Selaocoe's voice warm and unhurried. Then the cello enters, not as accompaniment but as conversation partner, weaving around the melody with such intimacy you forget these are separate instruments. The bow work is exquisite—those years of conservatory training evident in every sustained note—but what strikes me most is the freedom in his playing. He's not trying to prove anything. He's simply making the music that needs to exist.

By the third track, percussion enters: hands on wood, breath becoming rhythm. The cello becomes drum, voice, and string instrument simultaneously. This is where Selaocoe's vision fully emerges. He's not fusing traditions; he's revealing connections that were always there, obscured by arbitrary genre boundaries and colonial music education systems that insisted on separation.

There's a moment in "Tula Baba" where the cello takes on the quality of a talking drum, speaking in the tonal language his voice has been singing. It's technically astounding, yes, but more than that, it's necessary. This is music that insists on wholeness, on the right of artists to claim their full inheritance.

Migrations reminds me why I fell in love with music criticism in the first place: not to rank or categorize, but to bear witness when artists expand what's possible. Selaocoe has created something that honors tradition while refusing to be limited by it, something deeply rooted yet completely contemporary.

If you've only experienced the cello through European classical repertoire, this album will rearrange your understanding of what the instrument can hold. And if you come to it through folk or world music traditions, you'll find technical mastery in service of soul rather than spectacle.

Put on headphones. Let it transport you. This is what artistic courage sounds like.

#music #classicalmusic #worldmusic #cello

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