Devan Wilson-Harper ‘27

Jonah Yano is ambitious. Since 2020, Yano has released three albums, each garnering critical acclaim for their songwriting. The 24-year-old Japanese-Canadian musician has experimented with a variety of sounds, most being jazz or folk-adjacent, which contribute thoughtfully to the visceral nature of his music.

“Jonah Yano & The Heavy Loop”, Yano’s most recent album, was released on Oct. 4. On this album, Yano and his band try on improvisational jazz-rock for size, paired with delicately introspective lyricism. I was recommended one of the album’s singles a few days prior to its release–“Romance ESL”-- and immediately set an alarm for the release of the entire album.

“The Heavy Loop” begins with Yano’s husky, crooning vocals in “Devotion” and “Concentrate.” There’s a growling electric guitar, there’s piano and by the middle of the second track, the saxophone is introduced. Yano has always been technically gifted in the realm of music, but “The Heavy Loop” spotlights the skill of his band as a whole. In comparison to Yano’s last album, “Portrait of a Dog”, this album leans further into the magical spontaneity of jazz and rock genres. It’s loud and unapologetic, an organic embodiment of music as a means of “special journaling,” as Yano puts it.

Implicit communication and musical talent are cornerstones of the entire album, sonically and lyrically. In “Romance ESL,” the track that initially captured my attention, Yano plays with the idea of romance functioning as a second language; it doesn’t often come naturally, it requires hyper-conscious effort, and it forces all parties involved into a state of extreme vulnerability. The nuts and bolts of communication are exposed until you eventually find yourself in cavernous isolation. Among a symphony of roars and bangs, Yano pleads, “there’s no one here, is anybody here?”

“Jonah Yano & The Heavy Loop” includes eight tracks, adding up to 55 total minutes. “The Heavy Loop,” the album’s final track, takes up nearly half of those. It’s a 30 minute song housing only a handful of lyrics and an extensive– but delicate– ecosystem of improvised sound. Yano and his band simultaneously move together and communicate with one another through chaos and bliss, all enabled by their adroitness in jazz.

This is an album that doesn’t demand to be understood immediately. It requires patience, but rewards that patience with every listen. “Jonah Yano & The Heavy Loop” is at its most engaging when it lets the instruments stretch out and breathe, when the band slips into those extended, meditative instrumental passages. This isn’t the kind of album that feels rushed or cluttered with noise; it’s a musical diary that takes its time to unfold, giving the listener space to explore. Yano’s ideas of human communication, love and time have been transcribed into a compelling narrative of vulnerability, expression and artistic growth. He invites us into his world for just a moment, offering his thoughts, his doubts, his love. And in that brief exchange, he gives us something worth holding onto.

The Case for “Jonah Yano & The Heavy Loop”