MADELEINE - Earth Cry EP (2026) Hi-Res

More than just the sum of its collaborative parts, Madeleine has made the summer EP du jour, a balancing act of heartfelt emotion and divine musicianship, equally at home in the club, in the car, or standing on the edge of a burning world.. MK Bennett luxuriates.

Sometimes the sound is enough, even if there’s more. Dilla’s drums, Bootsy’s bass, Prince’s guitar. These are all things that exist both inside and outside time and space because they exist as abject musical perfection. Questlove understands this and Madeleine understands this too. The space-age and afro-futuristic push and pull of modern R’n’B, whether Jam and Lewis, Timbaland or Flying Lotus, can, for all its genius, sometimes sound a little too machine-coded, a little too pristine. The dirt under the nails is in the feeling, the fleeting knowledge, the unspoken desire. Earth Cry is six songs of broken hearted soul in every sense that matters.

Madeleine has worked with a galaxy of shooting stars, from Olivia Dean & Jorja Smith to Arlo Parks, toured, played keyboards, and soaked up knowledge for future use. Soul evolves slowly, like the orbit of the planets but it watches quietly and changes its colours like a chameleon, infinitely adaptable as long as its core elements are maintained. The wonderfully titled Meet My Soul in the Water hits the sweet spot of perfection that was the late 90s Philadelphia sound of Jill Scott and The Roots, updated with a slightly discordant and skittering drum pattern. With this music, you know you’ll get a patchwork quilt of sewn-in wonder, intricate and needle sharp, every detail defined. With Marysia Osu guesting, it’s an excellent introduction to Madeleine’s aesthetic world.

“Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time. For y’all have knocked her up. I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe. I was not offended. For I knew I had to rise above it all. Or drown in my own shit.”
Maggot Brain – Funkadelic

Earth Cry opens with a wash of synths before the heavenly slink of the bass and drums and a gorgeous melody relates an ecological love song. A warning and a metaphor, the understatement in the delivery makes the message even more potent, though it is sung with a resignation that knows the truth. We dance while the world burns and pray for sense to prevail over capital. The excellent descending bass line at the end is a hook in and of itself. Don’t Lose Yourself is a cautionary tale, a musical tour de force of near Junglist drums and keyboard swathes that cut the air, while the hushed, subtle vocal leads you in a different melodic direction. Defiantly futuristic and both warm and machine-like, it’s exquisite in execution and sound. The vamps, improvisations and fills in the last minute or so are delightful; you can feel the players’ joy.