Leo Bhanji - Shell EP

Leo Bhanji's 'Shell' EP arrives like a whispered secret in a world that can't stop shouting. The London-based artist's third EP strips away excess until only the essential remains, creating something that feels both startlingly intimate and curiously universal.

Opening track '27' sets the tone with its skeletal production and raw emotional weight. Bhanji's voice floats above sparse instrumentation like a ghost haunting its own memories, while the lyrics paint vivid pictures with remarkably few brushstrokes. It's the kind of song that makes two minutes feel like both an instant and an eternity.

The minimalist approach continues through 'Hazel & Deadnettle', where nature metaphors dance with electronic elements in unexpectedly graceful ways. But it's on 'Book 1' where Bhanji's evolution becomes most apparent. The track builds its modern romance narrative through fragments and glimpses.

'Dance W U' provides the EP's most kinetic moment, though even here the movement feels intentionally restrained, like watching shadows waltz. The production throughout 'Shell' is remarkably precise - every element feels purposeful, each silence as carefully placed as any note.

If there's a criticism to be made, it's that the EP's commitment to minimalism occasionally threatens to tip into opacity; following 'No Guard' and 'Arm's Length', 'Shell' is less immediately accessible. This is music that demands attention while refusing to demand attention - a quiet revolution in an age of maximalism.