Martel Explores Politics, Power and Sound on His New Album ‘Zaire’
- Undrtone Blog

- Oct 14
- 3 min read

Martel’s new album ‘Zaire’ is not designed for comfort. It does not aim to soundtrack sunset cocktails or festival VIP lounges. It confronts.
Across six dense, percussive tracks, the UK-educated architect turned producer digs into the uneasy intersections of music, politics and history. Field recordings, distorted synths and hand-played percussion collide to form an atmosphere that feels alive, imperfect and full of tension. It is techno that demands reflection rather than escape.
Following the lead single ‘The Ghost’, ‘Zaire’ takes listeners deep into the sonic humidity of the Congo rainforest. The sound is thick with movement, layered drums, human voices, and the hiss of unseen machinery. But beyond the texture lies intent. Martel’s work points directly at the systems of exploitation that tie modern luxury to colonial violence.
“This album isn’t champagne-bar music,” he says. “If the bourgeois and the nouveau riche can trample in with sprinklers and Moet knockoffs, claiming that tonight’s gonna be a good night, then it’s high time that those of us who clean streets, tend tables, care for patients, run trains and slave away at building sites get a chance at this year being a good year, for once.”
Born in the UK and now dividing his time between London, Philadelphia and Nicosia, Martel’s path into music began far from the dancefloor. “The fatigue of realising that there is no design left in a construction sector ruled by investors and landlords,” he says, describing the moment architecture lost its soul for him. “That’s when I turned to sound. I needed a medium that still allowed genuine design, something that could resist control.”
That frustration grew into art. His travels shaped it further. “I’m a man of contrasts,” he reflects. “London has made me disobedient, since the city is obscenely docile and under control by Big Brother. Philadelphia turned me into a kinder character with more patience, since the city has none. And Nicosia brings out the beast of nostalgia and history, for a city older than the Aztecs, they certainly insist on imitating whatever is hot in Miami.”
That sharp cultural awareness bleeds into ‘Zaire’, a record that refuses to sanitise African influence for Western consumption. “The witnessing of a bartender’s explanation to a well-clad guest that the music in their bar was ‘organic’, while the track was a cheap Afro-fied Ableton piece of slop by Artbat,” he recalls. “At that point, I thought, why does nobody ever talk about the real Simba instead of Disney fantasies? Seriously, do look up the Simba rebellion.”

His creative process mirrors that raw honesty. “Instinct and decisiveness,” he says. “Cutting through expectations like a katana through wasabi. Tracks should be built from the stomach, not your digital audio workstation.”
While the record’s political charge is clear, Martel treats the Congo’s history with deep respect. “Patience, meditation upon their suffering, channelling solidarity,” he explains. “It sounds very yoga, but it’s more the kind of thing that would have gotten me killed by the CIA in the 60s if I fought this fight differently.”
Before music, Martel designed buildings. Now, he designs pressure and release. “Architecture taught me modes, atmosphere, breathing space, balance,” he says. “And then knowing when to ignore those and go for density, tension, political claustrophobia.”
His time working on film and video game scores also informs ‘Zaire’s’ cinematic feel. Having scored the ambitious ‘Bleak Faith: Forsaken’, he carries that sense of scale into this new project. “Drama, ideology and the impetuousness of compassion and solidarity made me wish to evoke every raindrop and every bitter word uttered by mercenary or freedom-fighter alike,” he says. “Down where the heart of the planet beats as hard as ever.”

Music, for Martel, has never been about escapism. “When I encountered Motorhead and Lemmy as a teenager, I realised that working-class rebellion didn’t need to be poetic or polished. It just had to be real,” he says. “England has a heart, but the ruling class has made sure the working man only has one way to say it, power.”
That sentiment powers ‘Zaire’, six tracks that punch through the smooth veneer of modern club culture and reach for something heavier, truer and more human.
And when asked what he hopes people feel after listening, Martel doesn’t hesitate. “Agitated, inspired and moved to change things,” he says. “Burning their Nike collection is a good start, quitting their job is an even better step. But forming a guerrilla and ousting all politicians from government while instigating a movement that will regulate or ban corporate power, yes, then my hopes have been fulfilled.”
With ‘Zaire’, Martel isn’t offering escapism. He’s offering a challenge.








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