Big Soul in a Mellow Mood
Michael Kiwanuka’s Small Changes swaps grandeur for intimacy, delivering a tender, soul-soaked album that celebrates simplicity, love, and the quiet power of heartfelt music.
Michael Kiwanuka lensed by Marco Grey© All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Michael Kiwanuka’s latest album, Small Changes, feels like sipping a perfectly steeped cup of tea while lounging in a sunlit room: it’s warm, mellow, and yes, rather introspective. For a man whose past work sounded like it could knock the roof off a cathedral, this subtle, soulful record is a charming curveball. But make no mistake, Kiwanuka’s gentle delivery packs an emotional punch that lingers long after the music stops.
Kiwanuka’s previous album, the Mercury Prize-winning Kiwanuka, was the musical equivalent of a fireworks display: bold, dramatic, and impossible to ignore. But with Small Changes, the singer-songwriter has swapped grandeur for intimacy. It's as if he’s invited us to sit down on the couch and chat, rather than ushering us into a concert hall filled with swirling strings and thundering choirs.
«I wanted to strip things back», Kiwanuka has said, and boy, did he mean it. Gone are the cinematic layers of orchestration that defined his earlier work. In their place, we find simple yet soulful arrangements featuring soft guitars, unassuming drum patterns, and warm, velvety strings. It’s like he’s whispering in your ear rather than shouting from the rooftops. And it works.
From the opening notes of “Floating Parade”, Kiwanuka sets a dreamy, understated tone. Think Bill Withers taking a leisurely stroll with Radiohead (yes, you read that right). The track blends soft falsetto gasps, light guitar, and a touch of white noise into something simultaneously earthy and ethereal. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to sway gently in your living room, maybe even barefoot if you’re feeling adventurous.
The album’s standout tracks, like “Rebel Soul” and “One and Only”, lean into the same soft magic. There’s a lot of love here, BUT not the messy, dramatic kind; think more the everyday, quietly enduring variety. Kiwanuka’s simple, heartfelt, and sneakily profound lyrics are like handwritten notes you might tuck into a loved one’s pocket.
And then there’s “Four Long Years”, the slow-dance finale where Kiwanuka croons, «I fall in love / I fall in love all the way». It’s unabashedly sentimental, bordering on cheesy, but who cares? It’s the kind of cheese that pairs beautifully with wine and dim lighting.
Kiwanuka’s longtime collaborators, producers Danger Mouse and Inflo, deserve their own round of applause. These guys know how to let a song breathe. Instead of drowning the tracks in flashy production, they’ve crafted an album that feels organic and unhurried. Inflo’s understated keys and Danger Mouse’s knack for cinematic atmosphere create the perfect backdrop for Kiwanuka’s tender vocals and clean guitar licks.
Now, not everyone is on board with Kiwanuka’s stripped-down approach. Some miss the epic string arrangements and larger-than-life energy of his past work. And sure, Small Changes doesn’t have the jaw-dropping crescendos of “Cold Little Heart” or the anthemic heft of Love & Hate. But that’s kind of the point: this album isn’t trying to sweep you off your feet, it’s inviting you to sit down, take a deep breath, and just… be.
At 37, Kiwanuka is clearly in a different place, both musically and personally. Since his last album, he’s become a father and traded the hustle and bustle of London for the quieter charms of England’s south coast. These changes are evident in the music. There’s a warmth and a groundedness to Small Changes that feels like a reflection of his current life, filled with family, love, and a bit of peace.
Ultimately, Small Changes is a reminder that sometimes the most profound things are also the simplest. So, pour yourself a drink, put on this record, and let Michael Kiwanuka take you somewhere soft and soulful. And if you’re still yearning for the grandiosity of his earlier work, well, there’s always the next Bond theme.
