Jespfur

Jespfur is among my best finds of the year. Just under six years of recording, the low-key self-recording Dutch artist (born Jesper Vervoort) has amassed nearly 100k monthly listeners on Spotify. Setting aside my disappointment in discovering his talent so late, Jespfur is something to behold. The multi-faceted producer and vocalists specializes in creating ambiguous sound art that still manages to tell a story. Jespfur’s music is serendipitous, thoroughly disorienting, and, like himself, ellusive. The mysterious Amsterdam-based artist remains on the outside of any real “scene” as he blends electronic with indie, R&B and ambient pop. He is left somewhere in the crossroads between Joji, Mk.gee and Blood Orange, while still offering a distinct charm of his own.

Jespfur credits spur-of-the-moment feelings, casual observation and coincidences as his artistic inspirations. His sound reflects the spontaneous way in which he creates it. Yet, despite his (impressive) at-home production and haphazard experimentation, I would not go as far to say Jespfur has a DIY sound. On the contrary, Jespfur makes accidents feel intentional. His directionlessness feels deliberate. His production is polished, juggling many layers of sound at once while only occasionally (and intentionally) overwhelming us.

Emotionally, Jespfur does not shy away from hurt. More often than not, his sonic experimentation aches with vulnerability. This rawness is a large part of what makes the artist’s music so addictive. In sonic atmospheres that feel simultaneously existential and blissful, Jespfur’s music is utterly thought-provoking. Interestingly, as his voice is faded into the background, occasionally becoming a mere instrumental element, Jespfur evokes all of this dread, angst, and dreaminess with minimal help from writing. Instead, it is his memorable melodies that pave the path to the sound of something greater.

Regarding the artist’s discography, Mind Map (2020) is by all means a solid debut record, though Pedestrians of Bright Light (2024) is a clear advancement in Jespfur’s artistry and career - mainly on the technical front (with a four year gap in between the records’ releases, I would expect nothing less than a step-up). While both records are visionary, Mind Map leans slightly more emo, tapping into a grunge indie and SoundCloud rap spirit whereas Pedestrians of Bright Light steps into an increasingly off-kilter indie sound that is both more experimental and coherent as an album at once. The 2024 LP flows beautifully, boasting an effortless top-to-bottom listening experience while still offering tracks that make for enjoyable singles.

The record is based on Jespfur’s exploration of “quite literally going into the essence of silence & light. What is silence? In what form is silence in your presence? How does silence create noise? For light: the absence & presence of view, what we can’t see, what we can see, the capacity of saturation, brightness, darkness. POBS started as a selection of solo recordings developed in a space going into these two conceptually. Then shaped into an un-official album. It has always been flowing organically with a microdose of disorientation.”

While the extent to which the theme of silence and light came through on the album is debatable, it is a nonetheless fascinating idea to structure the piece around. The LP is absolutely among the best I have heard this year. It does not demand anything from you. It only asks that you pay close attention. Notice the small things. Like the silence within yourself and the light beams that stream through the window. This - the art of constantly reimagining how to go through life - is what all good music does.

From his singles to his LPs, Jespfur is carving out a corner of sonic art that resembles something of a “sound collage”. It is dizzying and up to interpretation. Take it as it is, pick it apart. Question it, digest it, dig it up. But at all costs, try to learn something from it. 

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Eve Matin