Sudan Archives - Athena (LP)

Sudan Archives’ debut album Athena arrived in November 2019 on Stones Throw, and it still feels like a lightning bolt. Brittany Parks has been folding violin into R&B and beat music since her early EPs, but here she turns that instrument into a full voice. Not just glossy ornamentation, but the star. It’s a striking statement for a first LP, the sort of record that lands fully formed and makes you rethink what strings can do in a modern pop context.

Part of the thrill is hearing how she builds on a personal history that’s easy to trace yet impossible to pin down. Parks grew up in Cincinnati, taught herself violin, soaked up gospel and hip hop, then dove into North and West African fiddling via YouTube rabbit holes. You can hear that curiosity in her bowing, which flips between earthy rasp and liquid glide, and in the way she plucks and loops phrases so they behave like drums or synths. The title nods to a Greek deity, but Athena is less about myth than poise. She moves with the calm of someone who knows exactly how she wants her music to feel.

“Confessions” sets the tone with a slow surge, violins stacked like storm clouds while her voice slips between plainspoken and sly. “Black Vivaldi Sonata” is the showstopper, a playfully serious flex that stitches baroque flourishes to a bassline built for late-night drives. There’s a little wink in the title, sure, but the craft is pure. She writes in clear lines, then smudges them at the edges, so the songs feel tactile and lived in. “Iceland Moss” cools the room with glistening synths and hushed harmonies. “Down on Me” leans into heat, the strings curling around a beat that nudges rather than shouts. “Glorious” carries a glow that fits its name, while “Honey” drips with close-mic intimacy. You can play spot the influence if you like, but it’s more fun to let the palette wash over you.

Athena works as a front-to-back listen because Parks thinks like a producer and an arranger. The short piece “House of Open Tuning II” breathes between larger movements, and the closing stretch lands with real intent. “Pelicans in the Summer” feels like a postcard from a day that wouldn’t end, all shimmer and lift, and “Stuck” signs off with the kind of unresolved ache that keeps you coming back. The sequencing is careful but never fussy, and the sonics are uncluttered. She leaves space for air to move around the strings, which gives the low end more room to hit.

The reception was strong on release, with praise from Pitchfork, The Guardian and NME, and the consensus still holds. This is one of those debuts that quietly reshapes the lane around it. A lot of artists have blended classical touches with R&B, but Parks flips the balance. The violin isn’t a garnish, it’s the engine. That matters culturally as well as musically. Hearing a young Black woman place a historically codified instrument at the centre of adventurous pop feels fresh, and it invites a wider audience to hear the violin in a new light.

If you’re crate-digging, the Athena vinyl is worth the reach. Those stacked strings bloom on wax in a way streaming can’t quite manage, and the low frequencies feel rounder and more human. It pairs nicely with her later Natural Brown Prom Queen, but this record has its own glow. If you’re hunting for Sudan Archives vinyl, a good Melbourne record store will likely have a copy tucked next to Stones Throw staples, and there are reliable local shops shipping vinyl records Australia wide if you’d rather order from home. Fans who buy Sudan Archives records online will tell you her catalogue plays well on a decent system, and Athena is the ideal entry point. For collectors filling out Sudan Archives albums on vinyl, this is the one that announces the vision with zero hesitation.

Five years on, Athena still sounds like possibility. It’s adventurous without ever feeling academic, intimate without collapsing into confessional murk, and stylish without losing touch with the grit of live bow on string. Put it on late, let the room go quiet, and notice how the details keep stepping forward. That’s the mark of a classic in the making.