Jacob Collier has built a reputation on dismantling what most people think music should sound like. The English multi-instrumentalist and producer doesn’t just master instruments, he reshapes how they interact, often within the same breath of a song. His reputation in the scene is part theory nerd, part studio wizard, and part live conductor who can turn a crowd into a living, breathing harmony machine with the rise of a hand.
At first glance, Collier might not look like the one shaking up contemporary music. He’s got the energy of someone who just walked out of a jazz conservatory, always in bright colors and talking through musical structures most people barely remember from school. But onstage, he brings the kind of controlled chaos that grabs even the most passive listener. He stacks rhythms, flips time signatures, drops ghost notes like breadcrumbs, and somehow makes the entire room feel like it’s been invited to participate in the experiment.
The Famous Audience Choir
One of the standout elements of his shows is what fans have come to call the “audience choir.” It starts without warning. It happens when Collier lifts his hands and signals to different parts of the crowd to sing specific pitches. What could easily fall into gimmick territory ends up being a genuine show of musical trust. The crowd leans in, listens, and responds. It’s a moment that says more about Collier’s connection to people than any solo could. He doesn’t just perform at the audience; he brings them into the structure of the song itself. And in doing so, he suggests that most people are more musically capable than they think.
The Moon River Harmonies
His rendition of “Moon River” brought that same mindset into the studio, but with even more complexity. The 1961 classic, originally written by Johnny Mercer, Henry Mancini, and performed by Hollywood actress Audrey Hepburn, is stripped of everything recognizable and rebuilt using only layered vocal harmonies. No instruments, no safe chords, just Collier’s voice multiplied into hundreds of intricate layers. It’s less about reimagining the song and more about challenging the idea of what a cover should do. Music theorists have taken to breaking down the track frame by frame, and even then, it only scratches the surface of what’s happening structurally. What’s clear is that it’s not about showing off, it’s about pushing the limits of what can be done with just one voice and a mountain of patience.
The Non-Existing Music Key
In Djesse Vol. 3, Collier took that curiosity further by writing in a key that doesn’t technically exist. The album includes passages that rely on microtonal intervals such as notes that live between the ones on a piano and quarter-tone shifts that fall outside the standard twelve-note system. It’s not new territory in global music traditions, but in Western pop and jazz, it’s still rare to hear it used with such intent. The result is music that feels slightly off-kilter but not in a distracting way. It stretches the ear without tearing it. You don’t need to understand the theory to feel the shift.
Using Everyday Sounds
That ability to find something musical in unlikely places is part of Collier’s core approach. He’s known to sample the mundane – a phone’s notification tone, an elevator handrail tap – and thread those sounds into full compositions. These choices aren’t for novelty; they reflect a larger idea he keeps returning to: that music is always happening. He’s just tuning into it more closely than most.
