Tel Aviv–born, London-based keyboardist and producer Yoni Mayraz has built a steady reputation for blending jazz, hip-hop, and electronic sounds into something that feels both live and carefully arranged. Following his 2022 debut Dybbuk, his new album Dogs Bark Babies Cry continues that approach, drawing on the interplay between musicians rather than studio tricks. Recorded at London’s Konk Studios with bassist Tom Driessler and drummer Zoe Pascal, the record feels relaxed but deliberate with a mix of instrumentals and collaborations.
“Darwish Records” opens the album on a simple, repeating figure that sets the overall tone. The rhythm section keeps a steady pulse while Mayraz’s keys circle around the groove. It’s an understated introduction that defines his style of playing that feels both direct and unfussy. “Ghostown!” adds movement through Tenderlonious’s saxophone, which pushes gently against the rhythm without breaking the flow. The playing is loose and conversational, giving the track a sense of motion. “Exarcheia,” featuring JSPHYNX, brings a shift in texture as vocals enter the mix. His verses sit neatly inside the arrangement, adding a grounded presence without overpowering the band. From there, “Blue Ambulance” turns more reflective, with a slower pace. The small shifts in tempo and phrasing really show off the trio’s dynamic.
“DBBC,” the title track, stands at the center of the album. Built around a looping keyboard line, it grows gradually, layer by layer, until the rhythm locks in. While there’s no big payoff, by the end, it feels complete without ever changing direction. “Ice Cold” features Fly Anakin, whose verses add a sharper edge. The contrast between his delivery and the smooth instrumental backing gives the song a different kind of energy and helps break up the album’s quieter moments. Later, “Trip to Japan” with Miriam Adefris brings in light vocal phrasing that beautifully blends into the arrangement. The closer, “Mushroom Hour,” winds things down with open drums and sparse keys, letting the record fade out naturally.
As a whole, Dogs Bark Babies Cry works because of its balance. The musicians leave room for one another, the guests fit the tone, and nothing feels rushed. The chemistry with Driessler and Pascal gives the record its pulse, while the guests add color without pulling focus. It’s the kind of album that invites repeat listens not because it changes dramatically, but because you start to notice how deliberately it’s been built. In an era when so much production aims for volume or immediacy, Mayraz reminds us that patience and space can be just as expressive.
