There are moments in music that feel like a secret whispered across a crowded room. A shared glance, a sudden understanding.
That’s the sensation at the heart of “Cinéma,” the solo debut from Mikhaïl Yaks.
You might remember him from his work with Iya Ko & the Guilty, a band that graced the stage at the Montreux Jazz Festival. But this is something different. This is personal.
“Cinéma” arrives as a single, a concentrated dose of a sound that’s hard to pin down. It’s a fusion, a concoction of RnB, Afro soul, and a sprinkle of electronic stardust.
The track opens with a synthetic texture that feels like the low hum of a city at night, a futuristic sound that gives way to a tropical melody. It’s a surprising turn, like finding a hidden garden in the middle of a metropolis. The beat is a slow, deliberate pulse, a heartbeat that draws you in.
Then comes the voice. Mikhaïl Yaks’ vocal delivery is hypnotic, a low, sensual murmur that tells a story of two people caught in a moment.
The lyrics paint a picture of a cinematic encounter, two gazes locking, each second savoured like a frame in a film. It’s a story that feels both intimate and grand, a personal movie playing out for an audience of two.
The song doesn’t just tell you about this feeling; it makes you feel it. The production is rich and layered, a sonic world to get lost in. It’s a sound that belongs to him, a signature that’s both bold and deeply personal.
This is a track that builds a bridge. A bridge between Afro-European musical traditions, between the past and the future, between the synthetic and the soulful.
It’s a testament to the power of a singular vision. Yaks isn’t just a singer; he’s a writer, a producer, a performer.
A multi-faceted artist who is creating a space for a new kind of expression. An expression that is at once sensitive and audacious.
Sometimes, a piece of music can feel like a memory you haven’t made yet. A premonition of a feeling, a place, a person. “Cinéma” has that quality.
It’s a song that lingers, a melody that stays with you long after the last note has faded.
It’s a reminder that the most profound stories are often the ones we tell ourselves, the ones that play out in the private cinema of our own minds.
What does it mean to see your own life as a movie? To watch your own encounters unfold as if they were scripted, directed, and lit for maximum effect?

“Cinéma” doesn’t answer these questions, but it poses them in a way that is both beautiful and unsettling. It’s a song that invites you to look closer, to pay attention to the small moments, the fleeting glances, the unspoken words.
It’s a song that reminds you that sometimes, the most epic love stories are the ones that happen in the spaces between the words, in the silence between the beats.
This is more than just a debut. It’s a statement. A declaration of a new voice, a new sound, a new way of seeing the world.
It’s a glimpse into the future of soul music, a future that is complex, personal, and deeply human. And it’s a future that sounds very, very good.