On gutta child, Gabriel Jacoby delivers a debut EP that feels both restless and deeply rooted, a 20-minute rush through Southern sound and memory that never sits still for long. The Los Angeles–based singer and producer pulls from decades of musical lineage—backwoods blues, bayou funk, earthy R&B, and rap—yet the project never feels nostalgic or backward-facing. Instead, it moves upward and outward, using heritage as momentum rather than an anchor.
Jacoby’s background as a self-taught guitarist raised between South Carolina and Florida is embedded in every groove. The production, handled alongside a close-knit group of collaborators, is thick with funky horns, buoyant basslines, and swinging keys that feel designed for movement. Even at rest, the songs sway. Guitar licks brush up against record scratches, while harmonica and banjo add a homespun texture that makes each track feel communal, like it was recorded in the middle of a living, breathing room.
Lyrically, gutta child balances charm and precision. Jacoby’s writing is playful but grounded, filled with lived-in details that anchor big ideas to specific places and moments. On the title track, he frames “gutta child” as a statement of pride, stitching together memories of home with an easy confidence. As the EP progresses, that bravado softens. “dirty south baby” slows the pace, opening space for reflection and grief, while the tender “baby” leans fully into vulnerability, Jacoby’s falsetto carrying both longing and hurt.
R&B ultimately anchors the project. Even when Jacoby raps or scats, his instinct for melody and emotional phrasing shines through. Standout closer “the one” captures the EP’s core: love as need, closeness as survival. These are songs built on sweat, proximity, and feeling. On gutta child, Jacoby proves that funk, blues, rap, and R&B can all speak the same language—and that he’s fluent in every dialect.
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