A sprawling multicultural masterwork, Octopus Fox is the third solo album from Shu Lee. Embracing the multi-faceted DIY music tradition, this ambitious project blends diverse sonic textures and twenty-seven languages, matching a range of instruments — from classical guitar to synths and bagpipes — and diverse vocal deliveries within a unifying message of global harmony. The artist also caught our ears last year with the full-length Fusion Of Colours.
Opening the album, “Al Ramad Wal Gaith” is an eclectic tour-de-force in a variety of ways. Musically, catchy rhythmic maneuvers and looming synth mystique drive into a lovely array of classical guitar, muted trumpet, and bagpipes. Vocally, the track represents the first documented example of a song intentionally infusing English, Arabic, Mandarin, and Cantonese into a single work crafted by one artist. The song also celebrates an unprecedented event: when the start of Lunar New Year also marked the eve of Ramadan in 2026. “Two ancient traditions, converge, collaboration,” the intense vocals ring out, referencing “two different frequencies” and “two different legacies” with a sense of unity in the “one great ancestor” follow-up.
The ensuing “Ashtuta Dreaming” struts another stylistic realm entirely, embracing a charismatic hip-hop vocal delivery amidst brass-laden funk vibrancy and piano-touched jazzy lushness. Accompanying lyricism captures the daily retail grind, where an ordinary worker transcends consumer frustrations by finding hope in the titular viral, Middle Eastern milk cake, embodying desire in general with artful energy. Shu Lee then embraces a pulsating electro-pop universe within “Shlama Peace,” reminding fondly of Gorillaz in its savvy production of soaring vocals, chilly synths, and infectious rhythms. The track takes inspiration from Shu Lee’s personal micro-interactions with Western Sydney’s Assyrian diaspora, transforming learned regional phrases into a unifying message of global harmony, apparent in the “peace to you” and “have a blessed evening” messaging.
Another standout track, “Jacaranda” delights in its nature-forward inspiration, drawing from the gorgeous blossoming of the Jacaranda tree, which enamors onlookers in Western Sydney during October and November. “Mimosifolia, hello my lavender / Blooming in October,” expressive vocals stir, enamoring across moments of both blissful electric guitar shoegaze-y trickling and glistening keys. “Malo” delights as well, opening with various greetings across the languages of Samoan, Maori, Fijian and Tongan. A riveting combo of steelpan, xylophone, and keys meld with steady rhythmic lushness and island-set lyricism: “Get buried in the beach / Enjoy some mango peach.” Imagery of getaway escapism combines with laments of loneliness, with the song’s protagonist being a man on holiday that still experiences loneliness amidst the beauty.
“Digital Spiritual” absorbs in its production, with whooshing rhythmic frequencies, bird-chirping, and wind chime resemblances making for a cross of blissfully hypnotic and futuristically unsettling, the latter especially as nocturnal synths arrive. Thematically it reflects socio-economic struggles facing modern global Chinese societies in crafting a hypothetical spiritual system where Tibetan, Uyghur, Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese linguistic traditions unite, evident in the multi-lyrical approach. The “tashi delek” vocal refrain grips especially alongside ominous keys and bass brass.
Album finale “Why Did You Leave?” caps it all off in memorable form, traversing Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, and English languages as horror-film piano prancing and deeply resonant vocal layers intertwine. A sense of unity shows once again, aligning the three Asian languages as those that once employed Hanzi (Chinese characters), while Shu Lee notes it “can be reinterpreted as a song about the age-old emotional disappointment of unrequited love.” Another success of an album from Shu Lee, Octopus Fox enthralls in its cultural and historical reach, compelling alongside melodically dynamic productions.
