Jerome Thomas has long been one of our favourite voices in UK music. The East London singer moves between soul, R&B, jazz, jungle and hip-hop, guided by his mantra FOE: Freedom of Expression, Fusion of Everything. In September, he performed at Ronnie Scott's, a venue he'd wanted to play since he first started making music. But freedom of expression isn't always straightforward. Particularly when it comes to the state of the world. As Thomas puts it, when everything feels like it's on fire, worrying about your next single can seem trivial. But music offers something beyond distraction, and there's a balance to be found between giving people an escape and having something meaningful to say. For FOUND, we talk about that, creative freedom, finding a sense of home in Grenada and a month in LA that opened his eyes to what's possible.
You’ve described your music as Freedom of Expression. What does that freedom mean to you today?
For me, it's about not limiting myself and allowing the creative process to flow. Not every song is going to be a “hit”, whatever that is. It's about seeing the idea through and getting it out of your system, rather than judging the work before it's complete.
Is there still a part of yourself you find hard to express, either in your music or in life?
In my real life, I find it hard to express when I need help. There's the fear of coming across as needy, and the fear of disappointment. In music, it's more about practising not policing what you're saying. Just saying the thing. I'm practising that in my writing now more than ever before.
What keeps finding its way back into your writing?
Honestly, feeling like an impostor in my own field. Sometimes I struggle with self-belief and confidence, and question whether I'm skilled enough to be in this field. With everything changing so much in music, I question whether I still have a place here.
How do you hold on to your self-belief in an industry that constantly tests it?
This is something I'm still learning, or still trying to come to terms with: having an absurd sense of self-belief. I feel like that's the only thing that gets you through this industry. Unfortunately, it isn't a giving industry. Even with a team, you're in this alone a lot of the time. Finding a way to ground yourself is extremely important. Having the right people around you and keeping that circle small is important too. I try not to speak about opportunities until they're fully embedded, because you don't know everyone's intentions. The main thing I have to keep reminding myself is why I do this and who I do it for. To stop externalising it. Yes, this is going to be put out, but it's not for the world. It's an expression of me. It's an invitation. If you resonate, then we're part of the umbrella. I'm constantly reminding myself to trust the process, even if it looks murky or I can't see the destination right now. Pausing is fine. I pause a lot. But don't stop.
Your album artwork is always on point - who’s the artist behind them?
softconstrct, he’s my best friend. We first met in 2016 when he came to one of my gigs with a mutual friend. We didn’t really speak after the show, but about two weeks later he came to work at the Breakfast Club in London Bridge, where I was working. I recognised him from the gig, and we hit it off from there. He also sings. He’s a really good singer, he just hasn’t put anything out yet. He’s always been an artist, though. At that point, I think I’d only released one project, Conversations, and while he’d been making art, I don’t think he’d put any pieces out either. I believe mine was the first artwork he’d done. I initially asked him to do a couple of single covers, then the covers for 1989. From that point on, any cover that featured artwork rather than my face was his.
How much direction do you give him?
I don't really give him much direction. I give him the music, and he creates from that. He understands the vision without me even having to say anything. It feels like he's my second pair of eyes when it comes to artwork. Because we sit and talk a lot, he gets me and I get him. He knows my taste. I can't even think of a time he's brought me artwork and I've been like, “I'm not really feeling that.” He always gets it.
What do you make when you’re not making music?
I do beading and upholstery in my off time. It's something creative to do that isn't singing. I'll go charity shopping and find beads and cut them up, or get stuff on eBay. I make necklaces and things. Some pieces take weeks.
Does it get you out of your head?
Yeah. I actually started doing it when I was going through a breakup, for that exact reason. I couldn't keep thinking about the same thing. I needed something to keep my mind off it. It helps because you need to concentrate.
Is there anything you've wanted to explore in your music but haven't quite figured out how to express yet?
I haven't written about politics or what's going on in the world. Part of that is conscious. Obviously, I have a strong stance, but I don't necessarily want to make my music about it. There's already so much going on, and music is supposed to be an escape. I don't want it to seem like I don't care, because obviously I do, but I don't want to bring you down, babe. It's already down. It's something I've been toying with because I feel like I need to write about it, but I don't want to just put something out for the sake of it. The timing has to feel right. I think about Marvin Gaye's What's Going On. It spoke to what was happening at the time, but there was still a sense of optimism. I think it's about finding that balance.
Is there anything in particular that’s been weighing on you?
The stuff going on in Congo, for sure. And the fact that we're living through genocide. It's heavy. I feel like collectively we feel this every day. We wake up and everyone's wearing it on them. Not knowing what this world's going to look like for my future children is scary. I'm scared to even have children, if I'm honest. I almost feel like everything else I'm doing is trivial, because this world is on fire and I'm here worrying about when my next single's coming out. But this can also be my way of contributing, in a small way. I can't save the world, but I can create music, and that might save someone.
With Absence, were you writing about one person, or feelings from different points in your life?
It's a bit of both. Absence is definitely about a specific person, a relationship I was in. But the feelings towards that relationship are completely gone. I've used that scenario, then taken the feeling from more current partners. It was a long-distance relationship for the majority of the time. It could be seen as a scene from a chapter in my life. But when I was emoting the song, I was thinking of somebody else. I relate that sentiment of longing for a person to somebody else.
Who have you grown up alongside creatively, and who are you listening to within that community?
GRAMN., for sure. She's crazy talented. Shae Universe as well. Me, GRAMN. and a couple of other people used to go to Nomadic Gardens. They've closed it down now, but we'd chill, smoke and go to the jams they used to have. That's where we met Shae. I remember hearing her sing for the first time and thinking, her voice is insane. Seeing the success she's having now, it just goes to show. I actually have a song with her, but it's not out yet. Jamilah Barry too, and Bailey, Albert Gold, Lizzie Berchie and a girl called Morgan who hasn't released any music yet. I've got so many friends who sing but haven't put anything out. That's the main circle I'd say I've grown up with. And although I didn't necessarily grow up with him, I can't not mention Omar. If we're talking about UK soul and R&B, he's definitely a staple.
Where in the world have you felt most free to express yourself?
One is Grenada. I'm part Grenadian, and it was the first country I went to that felt like home. I've been to Jamaica, my other homeland, and I'm from here. But going to Grenada felt like, “Oh, I've come home.” Then LA. I went in 2023 and met some great people. It showed me what trusting yourself can do. It gave me hope and optimism and broadened my horizons. Being in the UK doing R&B can feel daunting sometimes. Going outside that and seeing how you're received opens your eyes to how much you can actually do.
Did you perform in LA, or was it a writing trip?
I didn't perform, but I wrote a lot. I was inspired in real time. I had access to a studio and I was out there for a month. I was in the studio every day, seeing music friends, going out to eat. I was living the life I'd envisioned for myself. It gave me a sense of hope. I did go back, but I got ill, so that was a different experience. I need to go again and see it through properly this time.
Where do you find that feeling closer to home?
My studio at my mum's place. It's literally just me in the booth. I feel most free to fuck up, make as many mistakes and sing as many off notes as I like. Everything I've released, bar maybe four or five songs, has been done in my old bedroom at my mum's house in Dalston.
And where do you feel that same freedom outside the studio?
Carnival. It's the event of the year for me. Carnival is when I'm most free. I think when people are outside their country, they feel like they have more licence to be their most authentic selves because no one knows them. I feel most free when travelling anyway. I care less about judgement from people I don't know. It's more your peers where it hits for me. People who know your name, but you don't really know each other. For the stranger I've never met? You can think what you want.
Where’s your go-to spot around Dalston?
Dalston's changed. I'm not really an inside chiller. If I'm going to chill inside, it's going to be in my house. But Clissold Park in the summer, you'll find me there. I'm going there after this. Parks in general, but Clissold Park is a good one for me.
Is there anywhere else in the world you'd like to spend more time, creatively?
I'd like to do something in France. I love the energy of Paris. It feels like angry London, basically. I've been about four times now. Barcelona too. I love it there. Sun, beach and weed, that's all I really need.
Who are you spotlighting next?
Jamilah Barry. Her voice is everything. I've been following her since the SoundCloud days. She's got such a unique voice, and her pen is amazing. Her approach, her choices, she's a formidable sound.
And softconstrct, who does my artwork. He's an amazing artist, period. He sings, he paints. He's a genius.
Interview by Cherelle Chambers