Initially known as being one-half of indie outfit Sunglasses for Jaws, the rising London-based producer, composer and multi-instrumentalist Oscar “Sholto” Robertson grew up with with a deep and abiding love of jazz, soul, krautrock and soundtracks from the 60s and 70s. As a producer, Robertson honed his production skills under the guidance and tutelage of Allah-Las‘ Nick Waterhouse and Inflo.
A handful of years ago, Roberston stepped out into the spotlight as a solo artist with his recording project, SHOLTO. And with SHOLTO, the rising London-based multi-instrumentalist has firmly cemented a cinematic take on instrumental, psychedelic soul.
Now, as you may recall Roberton’s sophomore SHOLTO album, last year’s 12-song The Sirens was recorded at the JOVM mainstay’s Hackney-based SJF Studio, and the album saw him continuing an ongoing collaboration with a familiar cast of musicians, including Syd Kemp (bass), Clementine Brown (strings) and Rachel Horton Kitchlew (harp) to craft an album that’s emotionally unflinching and explores themes of duality temptation and emotional dissociation, “blurring grief with groove, seduction and surrender,” as Robertson says.
Sonically, The Sirens saw Robertson building upon the groove-driven, string-soaked soundscapes and ethereal textures that have won him attention in the UK and beyond but while evoking a haunting, uneasy fever dream.
Robertson’s latest single, “Everything is Stolen Anyway” sees the JOVM mainstay diving deeper into his long-held trip-hop influences with a brooding, jazz groove-driven arrangement that seemingly channels Portishead, Tales of Us-era Goldfrapp and No Angel-era Dido among others.. The song also features frequent collaborator Phoebe Coco‘s mesmerizing, whiskey and longing soaked vocal.
“Everything Is Stolen Anyway” is rooted in two central concepts: the comfort in repetition and that nothing we feel or think is entirely new. “Moments of love, loss, wonder and the quiet awe of the sea’s tide arrive to us as if they’re ours alone, yet they’ve all been lived before. Borrowed feelings, borrowed time,” the two collaborators say.
“’Everything is Stolen Anyway’ leans into the thought that art works the same way; every melody, every painting, every idea carries echoes of something earlier,” Robertson and Coco continue. “Songs are fragments passed forward, reshaped, reframed, and retold through new hands and new voices. In that sense, nothing is truly original. But the first time you hear or feel something, it becomes new again.”
