Album Review: Joy Crookes – Juniper

After a four-year silence marked by personal upheaval, Joy Crookes has returned with ‘Juniper’, a striking, emotionally layered sophomore album that trades the political sharpness of her debut for something far more introspective.

It’s the sound of someone who’s clearly been through the fire, romantically, mentally, emotionally, and has come out the other side with stories to tell through perfect expressive tenderness, frustration, fragility and grace. A deeply intimate body of work that pushes her sound in new directions while still keeping her rooted in what makes her special, where her previous album ‘Skin’ was steeped in identity and culture, ‘Juniper’ looks more inward, seeped in exploration of vulnerability and emotional truth – a deeply intimate record that expands her sonic palette while grounding her even more firmly in soul and storytelling.

‘Juniper’ finds Joy Crookes moving beyond the lush neo-soul textures of ‘Skin’ into more complex emotional and sonic territory. The album blends retro soul, trip-hop, and smoky jazz tones with unexpected detours into shimmering pop and dub, creating a soundscape that feels at once nostalgic and freshly experimental. There’s a lived-in warmth to the instrumentation, with horns, strings, and layered vocal harmonies giving many of the tracks a cinematic sweep, but at no point does the production overshadow her voice, which remains the album’s core instrument. A beautifully distinct, captivating vocal that radiates warmth but can also create shivers from her more introspective and emotive notes, her voice evokes nostalgia yet currency with such ease. A voice that makes you feel like even if things aren’t going so well, everything will be alright.

Tracks like ‘Pass the Salt’, featuring a sharp guest verse from Vince Staples, show her ability to move between genres without losing emotional coherence, while songs like ‘Mathematics’ featuring Kano and ‘Carmen’ offer poignant reflections wrapped in deceptively smooth arrangements. The hook on ‘Perfect Crime’ is effortlessly infectious, and despite the weight behind the lyrics, there’s a playful energy to it, as if Crookes is knowingly leaning into the irony, and enjoying every moment.

Lyrically, Juniper is unflinching and twelve tracks of brilliance. Crookes confronts anxiety, co-dependency, trauma, and love with a kind of raw, poetic directness that feels more confessional than performative. She writes from the inside of each emotion, never dressing things up with metaphor when a plainspoken truth will do. On ‘Brave’, she opens the album by admitting how exhaustion and isolation nearly overtook her, and throughout the record she circles themes of self-worth, memory, and rebuilding. And this introspection and honesty are where the album finds its real power. Touching on such vulnerable and intimate subjects is not an easy task, especially with such integrity and rawness.

Whilst the instrumentation is emotive and uplifting, it’s impossible not to re-emphasise the power of Joy’s vocals, which are so beautifully moving throughout. The project is extremely well-rounded and feels very seamless from start to finish, a lovely way to escape for 42 minutes and embed yourself in the stories that she so wonderfully tells. After a difficult few years, emerging with an album as confident, infectious, and flat-out brilliant as ‘Juniper’ is nothing short of remarkable. If you haven’t given it a listen yet, now’s the time – put on your headphones, tune everything else out, and let it speak for itself. You won’t regret it.

Rating: 9/10