Jalen Ngonda
4th May 2026 – Cheltenham Jazz Festival
Fitting, that we found ourselves in the Cheltenham Jazz Festival’s Big Top because the circus of emotions, produced by this unassuming artist, were worthy of anything Bertram Mills had to offer…
Without ceremony a skinny dude in shades and pencil-thin suit sidled out on to the stage and strapped his guitar nonchalantly over his shoulder, as if perfunctorily picking up a leaf-blower and then without any introduction Jalen Ngonda began to sing. Our eyes may have had to adjust to the darkness initially in the Big Top but our hearing certainly didn’t…
As a direct consequence all I could do was cry.
That soul-full voice soared around the cavernous tent to the quiet astonishment of those in attendance. His voice rose and filled every fold of the tent like emotion-filled helium. For over an hour a tacit cease-fire descended and we were content to forget all and get truly lost in the distraction of ballads of emotional longing and unreturned love.
Ngonda did not address the audience directly for the first two songs – he knew he didn’t have to – he knew why we were there. The third track was introduced pithily as…“For anyone who thinks they might be in love.” Knowing laughter from Ngonda and his audience was complicit.
The three-piece (sic) band’s well-rehearsed complicity ensured the drummer’s timely shuffles embraced the bassist’s rhythm and the keyboards accompaniment as Ngonda’s Jazzmaster held court: accordingly the bluesy-funky note runs and chords accentuated the harmonious infusion. The band’s collective sound as a whole – as distinctive as the Big Top’s outline – against Regency Cheltenham’s highly recognisable skyline.
The familiar opuses from the first album…”Come round and love me”…“Give me another day”… were greeted like old friends. Ngonda’s yet to be released sophomore album “Doctrine of Love” offered up “Hannah what’s the matter,” and was greeted like a new friend. “If you don’t want my love,” born out of heart-rending experience, no doubt, was greeted with involuntary arms in the air.
Our ringmaster Jalen Ngonda may have been born in Maryland and grown up in Washington DC and studied in Liverpool, however, his music is as universal as Motown and the notion of love. And as I made my way out of the Big Top into the afternoon sun, with a perfunctory hand over my eyes, listening to the animated praise for what we had just witnessed, all I could think was most around me knew they were in love with Jalen Ngonda just a little bit more.
By: The Swilgate Scuttler
Photography by Reg Richardson