motel void

STRETCH//RELATIONS marks the debut solo album by composer Zeki Jindyl – a Copenhagen-based saxophonist, singer, multi-instrumentalist, and composer. Drawing on influences from R&B, jazz, ambient, post-metal, and Arabic folk, Jindyl creates collage-like compositions that blend melodic fragments with experimental textures. His music embraces unconventional structures, reflecting a deep exploration of cross-genre aesthetics and the shared musical space shaped by the rich sonic landscape of his upbringing.

His new album consists of six tracks, none shorter than five minutes and one stretching beyond seven – clearly pieces that demand and reward focused listening – this isn’t music that gives itself away easily.

The opener, Starway Conversation, begins with an experimental instrumental passage; about a minute and a half in, the voice enters – emotive, delicate, and well suited for alt-R&B or bedroom pop. The vocals float over a sea of piano and ambient textures, eventually giving way to a spoken-word section that carries an unsettling undertone. It becomes clear: this album won’t be easy to digest – and in an era of streaming algorithms and disposable tracks, that’s a true delight.

Lake of Hurt opens with a gorgeous acoustic guitar line that reminded me of the British singer-songwriter Rapt. Here, the vocal cuts through the ambient haze and faintly echoes Frank Ocean. I especially fell for the synth-driven outro, which transported me to the dreamy atmosphere of ‘90s arcade games.

Two Dogs blends raw, screaming vocals with post-metal textures reminiscent of bands like Have a Nice Life – a sound I love and imagine would be stunning live. True to the album’s spirit, Two Dogs abruptly shifts halfway through into a sonic space that would feel right at home at an art gallery installation with experimental soundscapes.

Next, Only Me flirts with traditional folk before launching into heavier sections. Despite the intensity, there’s a strange warmth to it. The sound doesn’t overwhelm; the vocals are distant, wrapped in reverb – even when screaming, they feel like echoes from afar.

Arms Stretched comes closest to something meditative – if such a term applies here – and everything culminates in the final track, Wounds. This closing piece leans once again into R&B-tinged vocals layered over synth bass, then spirals into a cosmic, spacey finale.

In addition to Jindyl himself – who provides vocals and plays saxophone, guitars, drums, synths, brass, and various flutes – the record features contributions from Þór Arnarsson (guitar, vocals), Laust Moltesen Andreassen (guitar, vocals), and Oliver Nehammer (drums, vocals). It’s a rare and striking listen – art in its fullest, uncompromising form. And one more thing: that cover art is gorgeous!

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