Zeynep Agcabay - Ancestral Ground (2023)

An interrogation of identity pervades every corner of Zeynep Ağcabay’s ‘Ancestral Ground’, the debut body of work under her birth name. As someone who has formed their practice creating soundscapes for high fashion labels and runway shows, this mini-album represents the artist finally being given full creative license. Although Zeynep’s Turkish ancestry is heard amongst all seven tracks, it is not simply a borrowing or a homage. Very much still connected both geographically and culturally with her ancestral ground, the Turkish ney flute present throughout these recordings evokes a gesture of respect to her father’s fostering of a musical upbringing and an inquisitive gaze into the timbrality of instruments operating within a wholly different embedded culture than those of the West.

A growing community of London-based artists with roots elsewhere are investigating what geographically and culturally mixed identities can mean when translated into sonic offerings (see: Flora Yin-Wong, Nexcyia, Ewa Awe, Susu Laroche, Nkisi). What perhaps sets Zeynep Ağcabay apart is the complex feelings of anguish towards a bureaucratic system which has been the hostile backdrop to their years living in London, unable to move freely around Europe and necessitating an implementation of composition-as-labour to survive an overwhelmingly unlivable city. This is the dissonant shadow-self sibling of mea0u, Zeynep’s deconstructed pop moniker, and from the Portishead trip-hop leanings channelled at the end of ‘Umay Ana’ straight into the nine minute closing track ‘Ak Ana’, these are perfect representations of this shadow-self succeeding in turning malevolence into a euphoric device.