veil of sound and the unfolding dream of shoegaze: majesty crush, a.r kane and an interview with whitelands

Shoegaze has always been a genre that thrives on rediscovery. When I first heard and worked on Slowdive’s self-titled comeback album in 2017, it felt like a moment of reappraisal—not just for the band, but for the entire genre. Their return, after years of being unfairly dismissed, was met with an outpouring of love from longtime fans and a new generation who had grown up on their music. The record served as a bridge, connecting those who had overlooked them the first time around with those who had only known them through hushed internet reverence. It was a reminder of how influence and appreciation move in cycles, shaping the way we understand music history.

That same dynamic played out when I picked up Majesty Crush’s Butterflies Don’t Go Away, a career-spanning double LP released via Numero Group. As a pioneering Black shoegaze band in the early ‘90s, Majesty Crush’s contributions to the genre were often overlooked in conversations dominated by their white British contemporaries. The new reissue, which combines their 1993 album Love 15 with a second disc of rarities and previously unavailable tracks, serves as both an essential document of their work and a corrective to their underrecognized place in shoegaze history. Their sound—sensual, hypnotic, and deeply textured—feels as urgent now as it must have back then.

This raises a broader question: where do Black artists fit into the shoegaze canon? As Mixmag’s Black Roots of Shoegaze piece pointed out, it’s widely acknowledged that people of the African diaspora have played a foundational role in nearly every form of contemporary Western music, from jazz to hip-hop to the polyrhythms that shaped modern metal. But shoegaze? Dream pop? Surely, those genres—born from the so-called Scene That Celebrates Itself—were untouched by Black influence? That assumption falls apart quickly with even a cursory dive into history.

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Take A.R. Kane, for example—a duo of Black Londoners who, inspired by Cocteau Twins, crafted a sound on their 1988 debut 69 that was nothing short of prophetic, predating My Bloody Valentine’s so-called genre-defining Loveless by over three years. Not only did A.R. Kane help shape shoegaze’s sound, but they were also the ones to coin the term “dream pop” in the first place. And yet, like Majesty Crush, they are too often left out of the dominant narratives of these genres.

This is why I was excited to interview Whitelands, a band whose presence in the modern shoegaze landscape feels vital. As a Black-fronted band operating in a space that has often erased its Black pioneers, they exist in a lineage that includes A.R. Kane and Majesty Crush, while also carving out something distinctly their own. Just as Slowdive’s return reshaped how people saw their legacy, and as Majesty Crush’s reissue reaffirms their place in the conversation, Whitelands’ journey is part of an ongoing expansion of shoegaze’s story. Their music isn’t just an echo of the past—it’s a glimpse into what comes next.

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Read below.

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For Etienne Quarty Papafio and Jagun Meseorisa of Whitelands, the journey into shoegaze wasn’t a carefully plotted evolution, but rather an organic shift that felt inevitable. “I think we should switch to shoegaze,” Etienne texted Jagun back in 2018. “At that point, it was a journey of discovery,” Jagun recalls. “Whereas for Etienne, it was already a big part of their music taste.” That pivot would prove pivotal for the duo, as their sound quickly became synonymous with lush, reverb-drenched guitars and expansive, melancholic textures.

Now, in 2025, Whitelands are at a turning point. Having released their debut album to critical acclaim, they’re in the process of writing their second full-length record—all while juggling the pressures of academia, touring, and breaking barriers as a Black band in a genre often perceived as overwhelmingly white.

Their debut album, Night-bound Eyes Are Blind To The Day, was released on Sonic Cathedral and recently celebrated its first anniversary on February 23rd. Following a string of successful tours—including support slots with Slowdive last year—they played with Hi-Vis just last Friday. Currently, they are in the studio writing and recording their second album, the highly anticipated follow-up to their well-loved debut.

For Whitelands, Slowdive’s resurgence was a testament to shoegaze’s enduring appeal. The genre, which had been dismissed in the ‘90s in favor of Britpop and grunge, found a second life as younger generations rediscovered its ethereal beauty. “Britpop, for example, is very tied to a certain image—when you think of Britpop, you often think of a specific kind of white boy,” says Etienne. “That’s why shoegaze feels different—it’s much less tied to a specific image or background.”

While shoegaze may not be as explicitly racialised as punk or reggae, its Black roots are often overlooked. Despite this history, Whitelands have still encountered assumptions about what kind of music they’re ‘expected’ to play. “Someone once thought we were a roots reggae band,” laughs Jagun. “Where was that again?” Etienne chimes in. “Glasgow.”

These moments highlight a broader issue: the expectation that Black musicians must conform to specific genres. “People online have said things like, ‘I’ve never seen darker-skinned people do shoegaze before,’” says Etienne. “It’s kind of funny, but also telling.”

As Whitelands gain more visibility, they’ve noticed a shift in how people react to them. “When we played Supersonic Festival in Birmingham, we walked in and a lot of fans were just staring at us, like, ‘What are you doing here?’” says Jagun. “But as soon as we played, those expressions disappeared. It was like they had been sizing us up, trying to gauge if we really belonged there.”

This kind of unspoken ‘test’ is something the duo has grown used to. “I get that it’s still unusual to see an all-POC band in a genre like shoegaze, but that moment of winning people over never stops being satisfying.”

Their approach to music has always been intuitive, balancing technical knowledge with instinct. “Some songs come together naturally, while others take a long time to refine,” says Etienne. “Born Understanding took forever to finish. There was one section before the last chorus that we just couldn’t get right for the longest time. I didn’t have the technical knowledge back then to make it work, so it was a lot of trial and error.”

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That process of learning and evolving continues to shape their work, particularly as they approach their second album. “With the debut, we had years of life to draw from. With this one, it’s only been a short time,” says Etienne. “But to be fair, a lot has happened in the past six months—especially stuff we’ve experienced together as a band.”

Inevitably, the conversation turns to how their identities shape their music and public perception. “Do you feel a responsibility to engage with political topics in your music?” I ask.

“It’s not even about feeling like we have to be political,” says Jagun. “It’s just that we’re living through it. It’s our everyday reality. So, what else are we supposed to write about?”

Etienne nods. “When something affects one part of the world, it affects all of us in some way. Take what’s happening in Gaza right now—it’s impossible to ignore. And when you look at history, you see these patterns repeating: apartheid in South Africa, colonial rule in Ghana. As first-generation immigrants, that history is really familiar to us. It’s obvious what’s happening, and it’s frustrating because you can see how easily it could happen again.”

That weight of history and present-day struggle seeps into their music, sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly. Even their approach to songwriting is shifting—Etienne is moving away from cryptic, dense lyricism in favor of something more direct. “I used to use one loaded word instead of a full sentence to say something complex,” they explain. “But now, I’m thinking about how to say more while using less—keeping that depth but making it more emotionally clear.”

As they continue recording, their sights are also set on new creative directions. “We’ll probably be experimenting more with different genres this time around,” says Etienne. Jagun agrees. “Yeah, we’re going to be more creative with it—take a few risks.”

And while shoegaze will remain at the core of their sound, their influences are constantly expanding. “Weirdly enough, all the records I’ve been drawn to lately are older ones—stuff like The Internet’s music,” says Etienne. “I’ve been working on becoming a better, more emotive singer, and that’s one of the sounds I’ve been drawn to.”

Whatever direction they take, one thing is clear: Whitelands are forging their own path, not just in shoegaze, but in the wider musical landscape. And in doing so, they’re reshaping what the face of alternative music looks like.

One thing’s for certain—wherever Whitelands are headed next, they won’t be moving quietly.