The 1970s canon is part and parcel of Jungle’s musical wiring. Earth, Wind & Fire, Kool & the Gang, Ohio Players, and Sly & the Family Stone, among other acts, are undeniable sources. With their 2014 self-titled debut, however, they also showed innovation, with fresh melodies, basslines, and vocals, and an electronic leaning in line with the 2010s zeitgeist (EDM, house, dark R&B). In this way, their calling card struck a balance between derivation and originality.
Jungle‘s second album, For Ever, lapsed into a glossy production MO and at times seemed wannabe trendy; i.e., the Justin Vernon-esque “Cherry”. With their third album, 2021’s Loving in Stereo, the band found their stride, digging deeper into electronic, R&B, and disco, while incorporating elements of hip-hop, rave, soul, and funk. Serving as a block party of sorts during the COVID pandemic, the set brimmed with uplifting beats and grooves. Lyrically, the songs spoke to resilience and the importance of community.
Their fourth and last set, Volcano, doubled down on and refined Loving in Stereo‘s playbook, resulting in a collection of hooky, seamlessly performed, and smartly produced tracks. Lydia Kitto, who contributed extensively on previous albums, co-wrote each song, including the globally lauded “Back on 74”, and became Jungle’s official third member (joining Josh Lloyd-Watson and Tom McFarland).
With their latest LP, Sunshine, Jungle again blend a vintage orientation with a contemporary sensibility. They seem less concerned with toeing lines, though they never lose sight of their established wheelhouse. The tracks bubble with irresistible melodies and bliss-inducing rhythms. Sunshine is sincerely life-affirming, like being splashed with a bucketful of light when darkness is much easier to come by. That said, the band also amp up the empathy displayed throughout 2021’s Loving in Stereo, these songs serving less as three-minute distractions and more as buoyant messages that together we can live with and through our suffering: we will indeed survive.
The album launches with “Come Back to Me”, a smooth reworking of 1960s-era “rocksteady”. The bassline illustrates Watson, McFarland, and Kitto’s knack for repurposing catchy dub and reggae lopes. Kitto’s voice is dreamy and slightly melancholy—tight supporting vocals à la the Temptations further a throwback vibe. Drums are straightforward, analog-warm, yet have a greasy swing that will prompt even the shyest person to sway a hip or snap their fingers.
An upbeat love ditty, the title track recalls the Jackson 5 circa ABC, even as Kitto’s voice and lyrics point to a more complex relational experience (the use of “supposed to” on “Was supposed to feel like sunshine, loving with you” is a subtle but effective way to convey uncertainty). “Where Are You Now” features a sublime bassline, layered vocals, and a melody stickier than flypaper.
“Move Like You Do” veers in a dance-y direction, conjuring images of Stevie Wonder‘s 1973 appearance on Soul Train. In “Romeo II”, guest Bas elaborates on his “Romeo” contribution from Loving in Stereo. As with the first collaboration, the rap element expands and contemporizes the band’s image, even if the track itself doesn’t necessarily rise to the level of other pieces.
“Carry On” is melodically, vocally, and atmospherically entrancing. Bright drums contrast with an almost-ambient arrangement that would get a bow from Paul Riser or Gene Page. “The Wave” could coax a smile from someone whose mother just died. Lyrically, Kitto builds on the group’s signature positivity, telling her friends, partner, and listeners to “stay strong” and “hold on”. Set within such an infectious soundscape, the cliché lands as heartfelt, hard-won, even wise. “Someday, Somewhere”, meanwhile, is built around a bassline that purrs like a luxury sports car. As with “The Wave”, this track could prod a grin out of a Wall Street stockbroker watching the ticker plunge during a recession.
Closer “Heavy on My Soul” revisits the dreamy mix of “Come Back to Me”. Kitto’s breathy voice brings to mind the multifacetedness of Mary Wells or Diana Ross. The ability to deliver and sustain understated paradoxes is one of the marks of an exemplary commercial singer, someone who can uncompromisingly sell a feel-good hook yet offer something more, stirring a question or sense of mystery that swirls in the listener’s mind long after the music has stopped playing.
With Sunshine, Jungle further brand their bent for guileless melodies and inspiring rhythms. As refreshing as lemon sherbet on a July afternoon, these tracks evoke breezy days and laid-back spaces. Like their heroes, though, they have honed the ability to juxtapose optimism with the recognition that we all encounter tragedy (many people in 2026 are enduring particularly hard times). Jungle can credibly exude carefreeness because they know what it’s like to be burdened.