On the Rise
Kit Sebastian

Together, vocalist Merve Erdem and mutli-instrumentalist Kit Martin have founded Club L’internationale, a quarterly affair at Hackney’s Paper Dress Vintage, billed as “an evening of world dancefloor funk.” Fed up with only hearing world music in the context of electronic and techno nights, or hearing too much David Bowie in local pubs, they brought together their friends to make the kind of party they wanted to dance at. “We created a club night between ‘60s to ‘80s from all over the world, and you hear some Brazilian records but also some Turkish, some North African, and they can all blend together so well,” says Erdem.

It’s that spirit of discovery and sharing that will run through their upcoming DJ set this month, a stone's throw from Paper Dress, at Two Palms Hackney. Joining the line up for Spanish beer specialists SON Estrella Galicia as part of their last micro-festival of the year, Kit Sebastian will select tunes from across their wide record collection to accompany the brand’s approach to creating all-encompassing events.

Formed in London in 2018, Erdem and Martin both have very different backstories, but united in their shared passion for world music and cinema. Erdem was born and raised in Turkey, before moving to Rome to complete a masters in cinema. “Mostly I grew up with Turkish classical and folk music,” she says. “Then of course as you grow up, I discovered a lot of music through cinema as well. I was obsessed with Italian and French cinema and through there, lots of ‘60s and ‘70s pop.”

After a brief stint working at St Louis’ Contemporary Art Museum in Missouri, she landed in London, hopeful to start her career in film. But shortly after arriving, she answered a Facebook post looking for Turkish vocalists. “I was always singing and music was always a part of my life. I was writing lyrics and melodies and I was a part of some choirs and some little failed projects,” she says.

Martin grew up outside London in Surrey, but every holiday his family would travel to their house in the West of France, spending as much time as possible there. “I didn't have internet, so if I wanted to hear new music I'd have to go to junk stores and car boot sales,” he says. “I guess I was looking for British music, but there wasn't too much or it'd be too expensive, so I’d just buy the French equivalent. ”

He went on to study composition at London’s Guildhall School of Music, and after graduating, he took a job working in a school. But he was still driven to make music that reflected his formative soundtrack. After posting on Facebook in search of vocalists, he met Erdem in a South Kensington pub. The pair hit it off, their shared passions across music and film the perfect compliment.

They set to work straight away, writing and recording what would become their debut album, 2019’s Mantra Moderne. A dynamic collection of retrospective and wide-ranging pop, it found a home on the Mr Bongo label. Based in Brighton, the label is renowned for its releases in world music and art-house/world cinema, and their pairing was just as serendipitous. “I just popped them an email during Christmas time,” says Martin. “I sent it to the wrong email. It's an email address apparently they check once every couple of months, but it was just very fortunate they had checked it the day after, I think. It's very crazy. It was just an unsolicited email, there was no inside man.”

It was only after their debut album was complete and signed that they thought about playing shows, although their touring capabilities were also hindered by the 2020 pandemic. Instead, they used that time to work on their next album, 2021’s Melodi.

The process of isolating, writing while separate from each other, and not being able to play live, meant that when it came to working on third record New Internationale, the album’s creation was filled with a cathartic joy. “It was after playing so many live shows, which was something new to us. Then you really feel and absorb the energy of the audience and you also see what it provokes in us as well when we write a song,” says Erdem. “I think in that sense in this album there is way more energy and dynamism compared to the other albums, and it's a bit less introverted and introspective.”

Across the record they pull from art, cinema and literature to create stories and characters that come to life against a rich tapestry of dynamic multi-instrumentalism, playful composition and wide influence. “Even when the stories are a bit sorrowful, still there is an element that has the driving energy in the songs,” says Erdem. “Also, when we recorded we went to France and we just isolated ourselves for two weeks to just go there and film and record the vocals, and it was quite nice in that sense.”

The aesthetic world of Kit Sebastian is just as important as their music. Drawing from arthouse cinema with a highly stylised approach and abstract narratives, they balance the at times intimidating depth of their influence with bright and playful visuals. Their recent clip for “Bul Bul Bul” is a great example of this juxtaposition, kitsch and inviting, it highlights the accessibility of their creativity. “I think, because of our music and aesthetics, how people come to us, the questions are always so intellectual or always about our references and our backgrounds,” says Erdem. “So ‘Bul Bul Bul’ is, I guess, more fun. I'm happy it served that purpose because we were like, okay, we should just chill out and have a bit more fun.”

That sense of fun is something that’s highly present in the selections for their club night, and will likely ring through their upcoming set for SON Estrella Galicia this December. Drawing together touchpoints from so many genres and scenes throughout time, it makes both Kit Sebastian and their collective output almost impossible to pigeonhole, just don’t call them psychedelic. “Western journalists hear eastern scales and certain things like that and things that they're not used to, because let's say Turkish music from the ‘60s fuses its folk music with western pop, and they immediately put the term psychedelic on the music. It always feels rather lazy and it sort of ignores the complete context of the music,” says Martin.

“People can definitely be forgiven for occasionally calling us psychedelic, because of the instrumentation and things like that, but I think we are a pop band, or a jazz folk band. I don't know. That doesn't sound right either.”