“I don’t like single emotions,” Wesley Joseph tells Apple Music. “I can’t stand really happy music, and I rarely listen to super-sad stuff. But music that understands both has always been more special to me—that’s where there’s depth.” The West Midlands artist—who cut his teeth as a member of alt-rap collective OG Horse, alongside Jorja Smith—has been striving for dimensions to his music since day one. In 2020, he reshaped his approach, writing, directing, and scoring his debut short film, Pandomony, a kinetic, three-part exploration of grief. Here, he renders bright, atmospheric sequences to song for a stunning debut LP. “Ultramarine is this deep, deep, beautiful blue color,” he says. “And all the changes in art throughout time have been signified by how this color is used. When translated, it literally means ‘a place beyond the sea.’ It’s what I’ve been searching for.” To aid him in his quest, Joseph assumes a character called Frederick. “He allows me to express emotion, like my inner child would,” he says. “But completely free from the chains of reality. And he surfaces all the time. Sometimes it’s five seconds, just the hook or the whole verse.” Taking to the deep with his alter ego, Joseph emerges with twisted future funk (“Ultramarine”) and lucid rhymes over delicate chords (“Strangers”), before checking back in with his old Walsall running mate Smith for a gorgeous curtain call (“Patience”). “As long as I can remember, I’ve always had this fire in my belly,” he says. “It’s only shape-shifted as I’ve grown, [and] gained more wisdom and perspective. Now, I understand how to best channel it.” Here, he breaks down his debut album, track by track. The Bloom “I’ve had the emotional framework of this album in my head for two or three years. I’ve always known exactly how it starts. It had to be a completely unavoidable groove—the moment it starts, you’re in. I went for a deep, almost oxymoronic sensation of being uneasy yet warm. Like an amazing journey’s about to begin, but whatever happens, you’ll be safe.” Ultramarine “For moments that felt extremely emotional on this album, I created Frederick. He allows me to live out crazy narratives and feel the things that I really do feel. This is a love song told from his perspective, essentially. He has a weird perception of love and romance: He’s had his heart broken by a girl that he doesn’t even really know. But still, he’s longing for her and completely in awe.” Thrilla “Every single one of these songs had to make a statement, because they’re all one of one, and there are no do-overs with your debut. I made so many versions of this song—we recorded maybe 25 different versions at a point. And I decided, if I am going to finish this, I want producers to admire it for the structure and transitions. And if you love rap, then I want you to appreciate the technique in the rhyming. This can’t be dismissed as a standard, 808-led banger. I’d call this the autobiography piece—I’m talking about my dreams, childhood, aspirations, my lows, my highs.” Strangers “This is a real diary-entry moment. Frederick isn’t here, just me. I wrote this at a point I was super low. I was really down. I sat down at my synth for 10 minutes and these chords came up. I was looking out of my window at this dusky blue sky, and I was playing these chords that matched up with precisely how I felt. And I started to write. No drums, it was just the chords, and I wrote the whole verse—a complete stream of consciousness on how I was feeling.” Lavender “At this point I wondered, ‘Is this a low-key, sad record?’ Because I don’t want this to be the type of music you only play in the winter; I want this to exist all year, whenever, for everyone. All the colors and the feeling of this song was already in my head, and this was the one that felt truest to the idea. It captured that nostalgic, warm feeling of youth and love, and all of the things in between.” Ur Room “This track represents the feeling of being with your girl, or your significant other, and you don’t give a f**k about anyone. You’re in the moment, on an intense high, like a pill, but it’s just their presence. It’s why I say, ‘Elevate naturally.’ Don’t get it twisted: It’s not a drug anthem—it's about that pure, natural rush.” Creep “The heart of this beat comes from the hypnotic loop running through it. That was there from the get-go. But for some reason, the lyrics just wouldn’t come, until a really f**ked-up situation I experienced in Walsall—a reminder of the perception this country can have of you as a Black person. You feel it creeping on you, and you may forget about it, but it creeps back at the most random of times, like a bad smell. But in all of the good and bad [experiences], I still feel privileged, because I’m blessed with the skills to properly channel this and express myself.” Patience (feat. Jorja Smith) “At the beginning, I planned to do the album solo, no features—from a place of wanting to prove myself, and maybe an egotistical place, too. But with this track, for the first time in the process, I knew something wasn’t right. I put a snippet out on my Close Friends [Instagram setting], and as I’m sitting on the floor in the studio, Jorja texts me: ‘That sounds hard. We should work when I’m back.’ We’ve made music together in sessions in the past, but now I see her more as a friend. It just happens that she’s a huge musician. I invited her around, and that night we completed the track. And at the very end, that voice is my grandad’s. He’s talking about how hard it was for him when he moved from Jamaica to England—from conversations that I recorded. He was actually talking about it in a super-negative way, but I chopped the end and put that in, because it really summarizes everything.”