Naima Bock

Characterised by her sober, ethereal folk, she creates an intimate and exceptional musical experience.

​

Most of the writing of Naima Bock’s second album, Below a Massive Dark Land (out 27 September via Sub Pop), was a solitary affair. It may not sound it – it’s made up of strong, purposeful arrangements with a huge host of musicians; filled with cradling space and warm light. 

​

It’s true though, most of Below…’s songs started life very simply; Naima alone, living in her grandmother’s shed in South London, writing just with her voice, guitar and violin. She’s no violin virtuoso but had taken it up as a songwriting exercise for its ability to draw melodies from her – a trick that undoubtedly worked, these are songs that drift into the back of your mind and settle there like fallen leaves, songs you wake up singing. The remainder was written on the road after those moments of audience connection, in the quiet that follows.

​

<iframe width="100%" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7wl20YHYO7o?si=5u4FXJhe4Av7gx_j" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe>