Joy Crookes

About Joy Crookes

Joy Crookes writes songs that sound like late-night conversations you're not supposed to be overhearing. The South London artist has been turning personal history into understated R&B since her teens, drawing from her Irish-Bangladeshi background without making a whole thing about it. She just lets it seep into the music naturally—references to her heritage sit alongside observations about bus routes and bad relationships.

She started releasing music in 2017 while still figuring out what her sound was. Early singles like "New Manhattan" showed someone comfortable with minimalist production and emotionally precise lyrics. By 2019, she'd found her stride with tracks like "Don't Let Me Down," which sampled her own grandmother's voice. That became a pattern—Crookes treats family stories and neighborhood details with the same weight as romantic drama.

Her breakthrough came gradually rather than all at once. "Feet Don't Fail Me Now" got attention in 2019, a song about her mother's experiences with racism that manages to feel intimate despite tackling something heavy. Then "Skin" arrived with its Nina Simone sample and became the thing people posted when they were in their feelings. Radio followed, but she'd already built an audience that actually listened to full projects rather than just playlist adds.

The debut album "Skin" landed in 2021 and confirmed what the singles suggested—Crookes had absorbed decades of soul music without sounding like she was doing homework. She references specific streets in Elephant and Castle, specific relatives, specific moments that could only come from her life. The production stays warm and organic, heavy on live instrumentation when a lot of contemporary R&B leans harder on digital textures.

What makes her writing work is the specificity. She'll mention her mother's suitcase or the view from a particular window, little details that make songs feel like memories rather than writing exercises. "19th Floor" captures economic anxiety and family pressure without turning into a think piece. "When You Were Mine" does the classic breakup song thing but grounds it in such particular imagery that it doesn't blur into the pile of every other song about missing someone.

Since the album, she's been touring steadily and working on whatever comes next. She's done the festival circuit, the television appearances, the playlist placements. But she hasn't changed her approach much—still writing from the same emotional territory, still keeping the production tasteful, still sounding like someone who'd rather tell you a story than sell you a brand. She's in that zone where she's established enough to have a proper career but hasn't been around so long that people take her for granted. Second album will probably tell us which direction that goes.

Crookes keeps things intimate even in bigger rooms. Crowds lean in rather than jump around. She's got a habit of talking between songs—not in a rambling way, but genuinely conversational, which sets the tone. The songs hit harder live, especially the slower ones where you can hear every word clearly.

Known for Skin, Power, Anyone But You, Night Shift, Trouble

See Joy Crookes Live