One of British music’s brightest new talents, Scottish singer-songwriter Jacob Alon cultivates their acclaim with a stunning new debut album. Wonderland gets the inside scope.
Once a while, a new star enters the cosmos. What makes them special? All matter of adjectives could try to distinguish. But it’s more an indescribable sensation, an effervescence, a deeply unknowable yet searing recognisable energy.
An immediate buzz soared from the press stratosphere as soon as Jacob Alon shared their debut single, “Fairy in a Bottle”, late last year. Fife-raised, the singer-songwriter had been sharpening their Nick Drake-to-Big Thief with a Scottish queer twist sound beneath the looking glass, bursting into life from the opening pluck of their folkish guitar work and breathtaking vocality.
After a run of emotionally deft and musically resonance singles — including watershed moment “Confessions” — hinted at a generation talent, news came of Alon’s debut album. Entitled In Limerence, the body of work is due for release next week, 30th May.
It appears deep within the orifice of Alon’s artistry to be stingingly honest and blackly funny, as the record wraps its listener within a web of vivid, often heart-rendering narratives. Musically, the work is superb throughout; with leading producer Dan Carey at the helm, the stripped-back, melodious folk backdrops are intricate and rewarding, bustling with ear-worm cadence and quiet moments of tenderness.
If you hear anything on Friday 30th May — make it this album. Dropping by on their way to epoch-defining, Alon tells Wonderland about finding themselves within their music, artistic heroes, and the making and meaning of their inaugural masterpiece.
Listen to the album singles…
Read the exclusive interview…
Hi Jacob! How are you? How has 2025 been so far?
It has been a wild ride so far. It’s been a bit dark and overwhelming, human-wise, politically… It’s been difficult to stay optimistic and strong sometimes. But there’s also been a lot of beautiful things that have happened for me. I’ve discovered a lot of new music and art, I’ve had the opportunity to meet a lot of lovely new people. Having this coincide with these darker things in the world, it has been a bit difficult to process. But I’m trying to cherish all the little bits that I can.
Talk us through the genesis of your musical project. Was music always the clearest path for you?
It wasn’t always the clearest path. It was actually something I rejected initially, but more so, it’s been a companion for a long time. I never thought it was possible for someone like me to make music and live from it. It still doesn’t feel right; it feels like I’m getting away with something naughty. So, for a long time, I rejected it and tried to do other things. I wanted to be a surgeon and spent quite a few years studying towards that, but I became really miserable and dissatisfied with my life. I tried a few other things, then the pandemic hit, which was a big time of reflection for a lot of people, and it made me realise that the only way I could see myself getting through life was to not pretend to be something that I’m not. Creating is essential to being me, and to find fulfilment in life. And being able to connect with people through that is an essential by-product for me. It’s also nice to prove whatever forces made me feel like I wasn’t capable of doing this, or that someone like me shouldn’t think about it, wrong. It keeps me alive. I hope that I might inspire someone else like me, from a small town in Fife, that they can do what they want, and that they’re not too big for their boots.
How was growing up in Fife? What was the music like that you were surrounded by?
I’ve got mixed feelings about growing up in Fife. On the one hand, there was such a whimsical nature to it. There’s some magic to be found, there’s so much green space and lots of coastal towns.. However, you also have to lift off the ground in a sense, to escape the groundedness of it all. We were always causing mischief when we were young and being silly, to escape a bit of the mundanity.
There’s also a deep closed mindedness and homogenous quality to the place that didn’t welcome a lot of diversity. I feel like I really struggled with a feeling of suffocation growing up in that environment. I guess that’s one of the main reasons why I believed that someone like me couldn’t even exist, in a general sense – let alone make art. It didn’t feel in reach, and I really resent that. I’m tired of feeling like I have to apologise for shining. Others should feel illuminated by someone else’s light, rather than feeling in a shadow of it. Hopefully, I can help bring some magic to places like Inverkeithing and Dunfermline, where I’m from.
In terms of music, we weren’t really surrounded by that much of it growing up in Fife, which is what I guess inspired me and my pals to go off and make our own things. I’ve discovered more local music as I’ve gotten older, but at the time, we’d just play our own tunes because there was nobody else there to play theirs for us.
Who are some of your main musical and personal inspirations?
There’s quite a lot… I’d say some of the biggest are the pals that I grew up with back home. We have a very special relationship that channels that cheekiness of growing up in Fife, that I mentioned earlier. The playfulness of it all really inspires me so much. I owe them so much for showing me a lot of the people I listen to now, like Nick Drake, Elliott Smith, Adrianne Lenker, Stevie Wonder, so many people that influence the way I write and play now. I did also grow up listening to others like Lauryn Hill, Mika and Beyonce. But there’s also the music of a lot of the Edinburgh folk scene which I find really inspiring. The oral traditions of it all and how they were an ancient vehicle for telling stories of the land has really made a big impression on me.
In what ways is musical and lyrical creation a significant process for you for expressing your individuality and inner emotions?
I’ve been out on some tour dates this past week, and I can already feel a build-up in my chest because I’ve not had the chance to fully process all of the emotions that come with creating and performing music. So yes, it’s so significant for me. I discover so much about myself through creating. Sometimes I’m able to look back and go ‘wow’, because I never would’ve otherwise been able to articulate whatever it was I was feeling any other way. It’s essential for me. It helps me be honest and connected to the most human and fundamental parts of me – as well as the child within me. It’s a state I’m always chasing; that inner child, that naivety and curiosity with myself and the world around me. Being in that state, to me, is what it means to be alive.
You broke out with your early singles “Fairy in a Bottle” and “Confession”. Were you expecting such a significant reaction? What is it about your music that you think listeners resonate with?
I really wasn’t expecting anything, so it’s all been so nice. It still surprises me so much when people turn up to the shows. Each of them have their own stories and ways that they’ve connected to the music. It’s a totally new and incredible feeling for me. To have this whole new dimension to my music shared by a wider group of people is just amazing. I’m so grateful for the places that it’s taking me, who it’s helped me meet, and I’m just excited for people to hear the rest of that world.
You’re sharing your debut album on May 30th, congratulations! How are you feeling about the release?
A mix of everything! A big sense of pride and gratitude, for sure. Making my debut album is one of the things I’m most proud of in my life. I’m terrified, which I think comes from that insecurity of not being accepted or not being good enough. But I’m trying to stay focussed on how I felt making it, because that was what it was about for me. Everything else is just a bonus.
What has the process of creating the work been? What was the initial concept and how did you grow it into a fully-fledged body of music?
It’s interesting, because when I make music, I don’t go into it with the intention of it being a product. But obviously within the music business, it is treated like that. I struggle with that the most, and it pulls me furthest away from the real reason why we make music in the first place. I hope that when it comes into the world, it will let go of those notions and become something that everyone can share.
I wish I could say it was a well-planned, thought-out concept album. But there are links, ideas and themes which come together across the album, which is why I chose to put these songs together on the record. Mainly, they’re linked together by my life at that time, and the way my heart yearned.
The legendary Dan Carey took on the production for the record. How was it working with him? What did he bring to the project that might have otherwise been missing?
When I brought in all the songs that I wanted to work on with Dan, we really just set about building a world for them to sit in. I think that’s what we’ve done with this album. It’s a journey, and we followed the threads of the songs’ stories through the music. It’s not necessarily an analytical type of thread, it’s more of a feeling that moves through this dream, journey or passageway between the feelings I was exploring and unpacking. It feels cohesive, to me. I think there’s a beauty in sometimes not knowing why something felt right. Sometimes we can really underestimate our own intuitions.
What’s the story behind the name In Limerence?
Limerence is what connects the songs on the album. I never explicitly say it on the album, but it’s nice to have one word that anchors that feeling across the album in a conceptual way, amongst all the metaphors and imagery within the lyrics. For so long in my life, when I hadn’t discovered the term, I didn’t have that anchor of understanding what it was that I was feeling. It just summed up what I thought was love, but turned out not to be…
The reason it’s called In Limerence is because ‘limerence’ is parallel to being in love. I thought I was in love. But in reality, I was obsessively drawn into a false reality. To me, limerence is this obsessive, compulsive addiction to a fantasy centred around an attraction, or the idea of someone. So much so, you don’t really know who that person really is, or allow them to grow, due to that projection you’ve put on them. It comes from trauma, abandonment, and a deep wounded desire to escape from pain. It’s probably our heart’s way to protect us from ‘real’ pain. It’s a tragic state that’s so hard to pull away from.
To finally have this distinction and realising it’s not love that I was feeling, but limerence, was really profound. This is what the album feels like to me – a journey of the stages through limerence. It gives me hope, in that unpacking this can allow me to take a first step towards the possibility of real love, which I think is possible for all of us.
What do you want listeners to take away from it?
I would love for listeners to feel like they’re not alone in their feelings. Limerence is such a numbing state to be in; it can feel like you’re in an alternative reality. Which is why a lot of what I explore on the album is about this thin veil of not quite knowing what’s real and what’s fantasy. I’d also like for people to feel hopeful, in that it’s possible to wake up from that state. Mainly, I’d just like for people to feel whatever it is that they feel, in their own heart. Whatever you get from a piece of art is enough.
What else is to come this year?
Lots of cool things… I’m going on tour with one of my heroes, Kae Tempest, very soon. I’m so excited. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to support on tour. We played a couple of shows together before and watching Kae perform was one of the best shows that I’ve ever seen. Also, lots of cool festivals this summer… I’m also excited to get back into the studio and get writing again.
Also, not in a way of looking forward to it, but importantly, I think this year is a time for all of us to be aware of collective action opportunities that we can be involved in. More so than ever for me, it’s so important to use our voices to help direct change. Even if it’s just in my own small way, I want to do what I can, make my voice as big as it can, and fight back against disruptive forces that are so prevalent across the world right now. This is what keeps me going.
Words – Ben Tibbits
