Released on September 19, 2025, Big In Japan by Georgia Weber and The Sleeved Hearts is the kind of record that doesn’t rush to impress you, it breathes. Every song feels calm, unhurried, and deeply human, like a quiet conversation at dawn that lingers long after it’s over. Weber, an Australian-born, Brooklyn-based bassist, vocalist, and songwriter, leads her trio with a poetic tenderness that makes this project both comforting and quietly devastating.
Rooted in jazz and improvisation, the six-track EP was recorded at Weber’s Wildwood Recording Studio in Brooklyn, in between tours and time zones. She’s joined by Kenji Herbert (Arooj Aftab, Yuhan Su) on guitar and Nathan Ellman-Bell (Brass Against, Cat Torren Band) on drums, a dream trio whose synergy feels intuitive and alive. Together, they create a sonic palette that floats between jazz, indie folk, and ambient minimalism.
Also Read: ‘Epilogue’ — Matare’s Darkwave Farewell to a Dying World
The record opens with “Jo,” a minute-long instrumental by Herbert, a soft prelude that feels like stepping into a temple garden. It’s meditative, simple, and prepares your ears for the emotional stillness that follows.
Then comes “Kintsugi,” a gentle standout where Weber’s voice glides over slow, open harmonies. It’s intimate, like she’s singing from across the table. “These cracks repair with gold, and now I’m not so scared of growing old,” she sings a lyric that hits differently depending on where you are in your own story. It’s fragile but resilient, embodying the philosophy it’s named after.
“Wind Telephone” serves as the emotional centerpiece, the EP’s heart. The song channels raw grief with warmth rather than despair, turning mourning into movement. There’s a faint Frank Turner energy in its folk-punk sincerity, but the tone stays hushed and steady, as if Weber’s trying to keep from crying while she sings. It’s one of those rare songs that makes silence feel sacred.
“Urashima Tarō” and its instrumental introduction deepen the album’s mythic undertones, blending jazz structures with Japanese rhythm patterns and shifting meters that mimic the ocean’s pull. It’s storytelling in the truest sense — part fable, part confession, about transformation, distance, and the impossibility of ever truly going home unchanged.
Also Read: Red Skies Dawning Emerges with Explosive Debut “Shipwrecked”
The closing track, “Koinobori,” feels like sunrise. It’s Herbert again, solo, reinterpreting a Japanese children’s song with delicate nostalgia. After everything, it’s a fitting farewell, soft, warm, and quietly triumphant.
Through every track, Weber’s voice and upright bass act as the emotional anchor. You can sense her jazz roots, not in flashy solos, but in the breathing room she gives each note. The arrangements are intentionally sparse, letting every phrase land with intention.
Big In Japan isn’t just beautiful, it’s meaningful. It’s a reflection on grief, growth, and gratitude, told through stories older than memory and emotions that never expire. It’s about holding onto what’s cracked, and finding your own gold inside it.
Stream Below:
FOLLOW ARTIST
