Joviale: The Best of What’s Next

There’s a conspicuous two-and-a-half-year gap on Joviale’s Instagram spanning between September 2022 and March 2025. Something was cooking. When they started posting again, you could see a dramatic stylistic shift: “At one time I had very colorful hair, lashes, and all, I feel like I put all this color in the music and I’ve become more polished,” they tell me. “I simplified my visuals because I’ve imbued the music with that energy. They’re referring, primarily, to the cover art of their debut full-length, Mount Crystal. On that cover, Joviale’s outfit is larger-than-life but shot in black and white, so what stands out the most is their inviting, fourth-wall-smashing gaze. It’s got this unshakeable sense of mystery that threads its way through the music too, somewhere between Lynchian uncanny and Princely stardom. Equal parts inspired by Joviale’s undying love for idols like Sheila E. and Vanity and her love of cinema, Mount Crystal is smooth yet richly whimsical. Their hyperliteral approach to narrative feels best suited for the stage, but the production is full of surprises that leap out on recordings.

Joviale is the mononym of London born-and-raised multidisciplinarian Joviale Tshabola, whose teenage years involved sneaking into Rough Trade shows and cultivating an increasingly eclectic taste. “I don’t want to make it sound like I was a cool kid, because I was really a loner,” they concede. Nothing in life set them up to make tried-and-true works of art; Tshabola grew up on a steady diet of contemporary western and southern African pop, Destiny’s Child, and scores from her favorite movies. They took advantage of whatever performance opportunities were within reach. “I did a paper route and used the money to pay fees for drama club,” they recall, having always balanced an undying desire to perform with stage fright. And especially as a teenager, doing plays or singing in the school choir didn’t feel as good as staying out late with friends at a concert or a film screening. Tshabola sang in the school choir, but the sometimes-performer found kinship in the music of Kelis and Sade. “I don’t have a booming gospel voice. I loved listening to them because there’s a smoothness in how they sing. There’s a run here and there, but that’s not what’s special about the way they sing.”

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Growing up in London meant constant exposure to up-and-coming talent. “London is a very effervescent place,” Tshabola admits. “At uni[versity], we’d go to parties and someone like Playboi Carti would be there performing before he blew up.” When you’re able to sneak off and see such an array of artists and rub shoulders with people who can help you nurture your ideas, you’re likely to discover your own niche, too. That’s how Tshabola got started, writing a lot of poetry or diary entries and teaching themselves how to play guitar. They linked up with Nathan Jenkins, the producer and cult figure in electronic pop better known as Bullion, and he helped bring their words to life—that’s how early favorites like 2019’s “Dreamboat” emerged, as well as their first EP, 2021’s Hurricane Belle. “When I was working with Nathan, he’s got his style, and we had a very mentor-mentee relationship,” Tshabola says. “He was guiding me on my journey through the prism of his style.” Jenkins’ style is smooth yet bubbly, and Tshabola exudes a mystique all their own on their collaborative tracks. Together, they bring out the best in each other. But, after getting a feel for the writing, recording, producing, and releasing process, Tshabola was ready to take on more challenges.

Mount Crystal is the sum of those challenges. After wrestling with burnout, medical fatigue, and learning more and more and more about production, they moved into a new arena. There’s even more mystery on Mount Crystal, but the production’s discordance is greater. Chainsaw samples, bloodcurdling screams, tap dancing samples disrupt the smooth, intricate instrumentals without veering into overt Broadway theatricality. You’re meant to hear the songs first as bops with brilliant melodies and groovy beats, but once a song like “HARK” or “Moonshine” passes by for a second time, you hear the quirks that make Mount Crystal truly wacky. “I love sound design, sound effects, and being literal,” Tshabola explains. “I have a lot of insane ideas.” It was paramount that any artist-producer relationship would put Tshabola in the driver’s seat, integrating those insane ideas into their greater musical universe. Any co-producer would perform like a co-conspirator, egging those insane ideas on and on, and Tshabola found dream collaborators in London DJ Jkarri (PinkPantheress, Natanya) and California pianist John Carroll Kirby (Solange, Kacy Hill).

Jkarri became one of Tshabola’s most reliable sounding boards throughout the album’s extended genesis. “Me and Jkarri played together on top of this mountain for a corporate event, and we were so inspired up there,” Tshabola remembers. “It was a moving experience, bonding-wise, and we could talk about our ideas.” They drew the mountain on a piece of paper and exclaimed, “This is the album.” Mount Crystal was envisioned as having the denouement of a murder mystery: side one would have more aggressive production to cultivate tension leading to a bold climax; side two would feature a comedown to defuse the tension but leave just enough questions unanswered. Tshabola likens Jkarri to a younger brother, smiling as they regale vignettes of regular bickering and combined passion. Carroll Kirby, in-between his busy schedule contributing keys and production advice to the stars, felt more like a big brother, reminding his collaborators of what’s important. He and Tshabola started working together in Camden, then in South London with their friend Cajm, who appears on “Blu,” then in Barcelona while Tshabola took an extended holiday to get away from the stress of London. Then they tracked in London again, before a three-month stay in Los Angeles.

In LA, the winsome trio behind Mount Crystal drew some buzz, leading to collaborations that Tshabola could never have predicted: Riverside rapper Hook and her collaborator Brbko hopped on “FOUL PLAY”; jazz bassist Ben Reed contributed the electrifying bass line on “HARK!”; Will Miller and Carter Lang, favorite collaborators of SZA, worked their magic on the album’s intro; longtime Joviale allies Laura Groves and Fabiana Palladino add their voices to “Let Me Down” and “Moonshine” plus production on “Crush.” The longstanding friendship Tshabola maintains with Groves and Palladino has been especially essential to their artistic development. You can often find Tshabola, Groves, and Palladino lending backing vocals to each other’s albums or assisting with art direction and visuals.

“I was so inspired that they were producing their own work while working alongside such legendary producers as Jai Paul and Bullion and Sampha,” Tshabola says. “When you work with producers, they know which buttons to use, which instruments to use; they know their craft. They’re very knowledgeable, but they also are so intuitive.” They open up a group chat with Groves and Palladino whenever they hit a wall of doubt, whether it’s a question about touring, industry woes, or song direction. Tshabola explains of their exploratory production, “I’ve really been stepping into territory that I’ve never been in and I’ve never heard. They’d be so encouraging. I’d start to say, ‘Maybe this needs a chorus…,’ and they’d be like, ‘No, follow your heart!’”

Following your heart on each song, all while trying to shoehorn them into a recognizable narrative, meant that everyone involved in Mount Crystal needed to be ready to pivot on a whim. “We did so many songs, and some of them didn’t fit into the narrative, so we’d have to cut them to stay focused,” Tshabola elaborates. “Some songs, we thought we’d have in the beginning half, but then we’d move them, and we’d have to change the production entirely. Half the songs have two or three versions.” “Moonshine” got a whole reworking; once they settled on a place for the song in the storyline, they removed synthesizers, bolstered the bass, and wrote a completely new chorus. “We didn’t work in a linear way,” Tshabola laughs, expressing gratitude for Jkarri and Kirby’s patience especially. The producers let the process unfurl and unfurl again until the songwriting and production matched Tshabola’s framed narrative. Rewriting and remaking track after track may have proven arduous, but those constraints helped Tshabola refine their songwriting and explore new flourishes. You don’t get anything as exhilarating as the chainsaw sample on “FOUL PLAY” without being extra willing to entertain a reshuffling or two.

The end product is more than worth the effort. Mount Crystal begins with allure on “The Mountain (intro),” as Tshabola leads with “We’re going up a mountain, are you gonna see me coming up behind you?” As fluttery as their vocals are, it feels like Tshabola is gently ribbing you, meditating on the idea that danger awaits at the summit. “Snow” turns up the synths and bass for icy tension, playing up the idea of frigidity in love. The bouncing, groovy production, paired with literal lyricism about tense, sensual love, makes the song feel like an Apollonia deep cut, recalling a time when ascendant pop lyricism relied on one verbal sleight of hand and buckets of soul to sell that cleverness. Tshabola doesn’t just build tension with heavy bass and foreshadowing; instead, they up the energy in service of building emotional bridges that implicate you in the story. “Heavy” is propulsive and passionate, building anticipation through asking, “Do you feel what I feel / Do you see what I see?” Tshabola closes with dazzling vocal runs designed to hypnotize and connect; you’re supposed to let your guard down the way they do when they let their singing run wild.

The last four songs on Mount Crystal offer a mellower resolution, cooling things down ever so slightly without tying every loose end too tightly. “Blu” has an unshakeable Janet Jackson coolness, but it took a minute for Tshabola to fall in love with the song: “It was the first time I let myself be led in songwriting,” they admit. She and Jkarri kept the song more straightforward, but Kirby’s ornamentation gives the song a scintillating charm. It’s evocative, and Tshabola loved the synergy, but, on an album full of daring concoctions they’d been dreaming up for so long, it didn’t immediately feel at-home, especially as a cool-down number. They reckon the song represents not just the flexibility of Jkarri and Kirby’s production, but the extra faith they’ve put in both of them to execute it.

Even if “Blu” has its roots in tried-and-true songwriting practice, Mount Crystal still exudes something ambitious and convincing. The album’s sources of inspiration feel exceedingly rare in today’s broader indie landscape. Even if Tshabola shares some favored idols with Palladino and Groves, their nods to more eclectic stars of the ‘80s shake any notion that what they make is easy listening. Regular citations of Sheila E., including with the album’s understated cover, highlight a sonic esotericism that puts Joviale in conversations with like-minded auteurs such as Nourished by Time and Dijon. The way they mine the ‘80s vault not just for lustrous synths but for abrasive percussion and complex rhythms makes them sound experimental at first glance. But, perched above those retro yet cutting-edge production chops is a knack for writing a memorable tune. Tshabola takes it a step further, imbuing their songs with narrative in the vein of Prince. To fit daring production, undersung diva worship, and a good story on one album shows a dedication to craft that few artists working today could ever hope to display in a single project. It’s evidence that Tshabola is someone who can take an idea and extend it in all directions without stretching too thin.

When Tshabola and I first said our hellos over Zoom, they introduced me to their 7-month-old kitten, Moonshine, who came into their life right before they released the song of the same name. Most nights, you can find Tshabola at home, watching anime with Moonshine and giving her all the attention she craves. Moonshine is Tshabola’s baby, and so is “Moonshine,” the rhythmic pop track at the center of Mount Crystal. It’s a synthesis of their long-standing worship of larger-than-life pop experimentalists, their love for jazz (the saxophone is courtesy of Ezra Collective’s James Mollison), and a call to marry rhythm, mystique, and vocal magic on a high concept album. Tshabola has been precious with Mount Crystal for so many years now, and they can barely contain their excitement to share it with everyone else. Their approach is singular—I, frankly, do not hear enough Sheila E. devotion in any music scene at the moment—and full of a world-weariness, edge, and heart that makes Mount Crystal a proper pop roller coaster.

Devon Chodzin is a Pittsburgh-based critic and urban planner with bylines at Aquarium Drunkard, Stereogum, Bandcamp Daily and more. He can be found on social media, sometimes.

Joviale: The Best of What’s Next

RIYL: Sheila E., Fabiana Palladino, PinkPantheress