If you have yet to discover the wonder of FKJ (French Kiwi Juice)— multi- instrumentalist extraordinaire, live-looping god— here’s a little something you should know: one doesn’t merely listen to FKJ’s music, but envelops themself in it, lets it in, and evaporates into bliss. Similarly, one doesn’t merely go to an FKJ concert, but trudges through several blocks in heeled platforms and stands for 3 hours in the Avant Gardner general admission line— or at least that’s what I did. This tour marked the French artist’s first time playing in front of a live audience in two years, so being in the front row of his sold-out November 5th show in NYC was a must, and the blisters I endured that night were absolutely worth it.
With a flip of a light switch, FKJ revealed to us a set design modeled after his living space in South East Asia where he spent most of quarantine creating his latest album “VINCENT.” Behind the comfy couches and the shelves of books and records, three large panel screens behind him revealed imagery of tropical rainforests. He started us off by paying tribute to the city with a remix of Ella Fitzgerald’s “Autumn in New York.” Just when I thought the jazz classic was untouchable, he managed to remix it in a way that was completely original and dripping in [neo] funk? Electronic? Nu jazz? Who knows how to categorize this man’s sound? The addition of synths, the wild saxophone solo, coupled with the voice of Ella was the perfect blend of old and new, all while remaining distinctly FKJ. He ended the song by waving his arm across the stage and beckoning to the audience, “Welcome to my home.” The crowd went crazy; we certainly felt at home, and we knew we were in for greatness.
FKJ spent the rest of the nearly three-hour concert performing a mixture of songs from his newest album, older works, and improvised instrumentals. It’s one thing to have FKJ playing on the car stereo while driving to class, or through earbuds on a sleepless night; but to see the man in the flesh, running from instrument to instrument while barely breaking a sweat, tickling the ivory piano keys, going ham on the sax, was a whole different experience. Watching him perform “Losing My Way” (sans Tom Misch, but still electrifying nonetheless) just a few feet away from me felt like a full-circle moment, as this is the first song of his that I had ever listened to.
Another thing you should know about FKJ is that each of his songs take on a life form of its own. “Let’s Live” felt like being lifted into the air. “Lying Together” was vibrant in every sense of the word, not just musically, but visually— the colorful swirls of the panels and the warm, pulsating stage lights gave the impression of being immersed in psychedelia. “Different Masks for Different Days” was a chill to the spine, starting off with a slow but haunting sax solo, then intensifying with every instrumental layer added. With the flashing lights and the imagery of lightning and rain in the background, we were caught in a musical storm. Eventually, a single beam of light shone down on FKJ as he worked his magic on the piano, and just when we thought the storm had subsided, he whipped out the sax and went wild— as did the lights, as did the bass which pounded its way into our souls.
Of course he played a number of his hits, like the emotive “Ylang Ylang” which blew up on TikTok this past year, making for a nice come-down from the more high-energy songs played beforehand. “Vibin’ Out”, another FKJ essential, was just mesmerizing. ((( O ))), the artist who lent her smooth vocals to the song, also FKJ’s wife, wasn’t there to perform it. She, instead, appeared in the form of golden pixels on the panels, which FKJ was staring at intently as he played away on the synth. The visuals, the added strings section, and the expression of pure love and admiration on FKJ’s face as he played made for an enthralling performance. And who could forget “Tadow”? Though the viral Youtube hit was performed without Masego, FKJ was able to play both his glorious guitar licks and Masego’s sax solo effortlessly. But not all of his collab-related hits were left to be played solo— FKJ surprised us by bringing out Bas, who got the crowd rapping “Risk” word for word.
Among the number of other songs performed that night, one thing I still can’t shake is that improvised jam session. Though FKJ could totally hold down a show on his own if he wanted to, bringing out bassist Seth Tackaberry and drummer Arjun Dube highlighted the magic that collaboration brings to FKJ’s work. Both musicians shared the spotlight with him, each having their own solos at certain points. What I loved about this improv performance was how it demonstrated the instinctual nature of music in skilled musicians. Only masters can create music on-the-spot that is both technical and highly expressive.
There was not one moment throughout the concert where musical expression was lost. I think I felt it most during his performance of “Sundays,” a medley from his “Just Piano” EP. Though originally an exclusively-piano song, the live performance welcomed a strings section, adding more dramatic depth to it than had already existed. Even the security guard in front of me, this burly man with face tats, put his hand over his heart because he couldn’t take the beauty of it all.
I came to this concert as an FKJ superfan, and I left an FKJ megafan with the emptiness of knowing that I’ll probably never witness anything that incredible ever again. Perhaps it’s the deep personal connection I already had to his music prior to the concert. FKJ has been in my life since the beginning of college. His music has carried me through my scary first days as a freshman, the isolation of COVID during my sophomore year, countless essay writing sessions in my junior year. His music had been my travel companion during my study abroad days this past summer, and on bad days I’ve held onto “VINCENT” like a close friend. I’ve been to other concerts since this one (artists who are much more commercially known), but nothing can quite match what I experienced that night. There’s truly a rare quality of comfort and healing that comes with music like FKJ’s, and I feel so lucky to have been a witness to something so beautiful