Yellow, by Emma-Jean Thackray is an outstanding album of R&B, acid jazz and funk that serves as the UK’s ideal answer to Australia’s Hiatus Kaiyote. That latter group can sound, at times, like a throwback to a movement almost distinct to the 1990s, but the group led by Nai Palm with her acrobatic vocals and under-appreciated, nimble, fingerpicked guitar is no mere retro act. They succeed, rather, by taking everything good from the 1970s through the 2020s and sounding timeless as a result. Yet it is the UK with one of the most thriving jazz scenes in the early 21st Century. The quintessential American art comes in many varieties, often tied to localities. Consider, for example, the clear difference between New Orleans jazz and New York avant-garde. Yet in the UK, it is all imported anyway, so there is no regional identity tied to a specific sound. Hence, they have a bit more freedom to play around with 60s post bop, R&B, funk, and sometimes world sounds like reggae or various regional styles from Africa or the Middle East. Consider, for example, Shabaka Hutchings or Yazz Ahmed. The UK needs an answer to Hiatus Kaiyote. Their answer is Emma-Jean Thackray, and Yellow is masterful. Genre boundaries are simply non-existent, as Thackray has no need of that hypothesis, alchemist that she is. R&B, neo-soul, jazz and funk are so seamlessly blended that one can find no distinction, the album is equally at home next to Prince or Phil Ranelin. While a Hiatus Kaiyote fan may not find Naomi’s vocal trickery, Thackray’s compositions and arrangements are as slick as any. Perhaps a better comparison is Me’Shell Ndegeocello, then, for the combination of jazz, funk and R&B, but with a more distinctively acid jazz/British aesthetic. One listens to an album like Yellow, and contrasts it with more prominent artists, and wonders why anyone accepts grooveless, mindless, machine-generated repetitiveness. When there is Emma-Jean Thackray, accept no substitutes.