Tiana Major9 is devoted to resolution on November Scorpio

The sound sits in a classic neo-soul temperature: warm guitar leading the touch, pads glowing behind it, drums that favour pocket over insistence. The record’s most modern gesture isn’t a sonic left-turn so much as a lexical one – contemporary speech allowed to remain contemporary inside songs built with classical poise. When that works, it’s quietly thrilling.

“Have ur way” opens on guitar plucked with harp-like clarity, a ruminative loop that circles back on itself until repetition begins to crystallise into meaning. Major9 is held centre-frame by reverb, unmissable in a mix that seems to circuit them with overlapping guitars.

From here, November Scorpio keeps returning to the same balance: steady elegance, with small incursions of the everyday to stop it becoming purely ornamental. “Waikiki” sits in a breezy Dilla-time pocket – slightly behind the grid, lackadaisical but not loose – and lets the hook bask in a sun-soaked calm. The cleverness is tucked into the corners: shifts in key tilt the colour without breaking the mood; backing vocals that thicken the air and widen the frame without reaching for spectacle. Even in more brazen lines relating to “family wealth”, Major9 handles delivery with tonal intelligence: ambition voiced plainly, then immediately undercut by humour, as if the song refuses to let desire calcify into the performative.

The record’s “Sunday morning playlist” mode can feel almost weightless, by design. “Fiiighttt” advances on minimal percussive punctuation, while "GRACE" is where the album’s ethic clarifies without sermonising. "I start my day off with a morning spliff" isn’t thrown in for colour but rather scene-setting; a small ritual offered as counterweight to self-prosecution – hands in the air, take a step back, and give yourself a break. The spoken-word reassurance as the track rounds out reads as an exhalation and benediction (Corinthians II reading and all), bringing the praise-and-worship inheritance into the room without turning it into branding.

When Major9 decides to sharpen their edge, the record briefly changes temperature – sparing use, dealt deftly. “Shook One” tightens its snare until it cuts like piano wire; the writing turns blunt and caustic, specificity doing the damage rather than volume. "Energy!" arrives as the smoke break after that confrontation: muted trumpet folded into the groove with languid precision, Keyon Harrold present as grain and shading as he plays the sung melody alongside Major9. It’s warm-bath music, but never slack; the groove is properly boppy, the arrangement doing just enough.

What holds November Scorpio back from being unavoidable is inseparable from what makes it so pleasurable: its devotion to resolution. It stays clean, unscuffed; the frame holds steady even when the feelings presented could stand to bruise it. The beauty is secure, and you can’t help wishing for one degree of disorder – something to shake a little loose.