The buzz is real. London’s Testaments aren’t just playing jazz; they’re re-writing the rulebook. Already hailed as “the kinds of artists who’ll shape the future of jazz” (Gabriel Rivera, Indie Boulevard), this London-based quintet is making waves with a sound that’s both innovative and deeply, soulfully romantic. Led by bassist Mark McQuillan and featuring the captivating vocals of Rebecka Edlund, Testaments blend masterful improvisation, poetic lyricism, and dramatic composition—it’s controlled chaos and ethereal beauty rolled into one.  On November 21st, they made their daring, four-track statement with the release of the “Never Run Dry” EP.  This isn’t your grandfather’s jazz; this is a bold, chaotic, and beautiful new vision. Ready to dive into the intricate compositions and deeply human storytelling of this groundbreaking EP? Let’s talk tracks!

Song number one is “ Mountain Stream (Take 1)”. I hear this as intimate and fragile — like a small chamber piece after an orchestral opening. Perhaps there’s soft acoustic guitar, minimal bass and practically no drums whispered or quietly delivered, with room for silence and breathing. The production  leaves space: you can hear the ambient calm, imperfections, even “small accidental noises” — keys, a breath, a quiet click, reinforcing the rawness of the moment.  This feels like a moment of introspection, of solitude. The imagery suggested by the title — a “mountain stream” — evokes quiet flow, gentle movement, water trickling over stones: slow, constant, enduring. Symbolically, perhaps this represents emotional healing, reflection, or re-alignment. The “Take 1” label hints at an initial, perhaps more faithful version — raw, honest, unembellished. I think this track offers the listener a pause — a chance to breathe, to reflect alone.

At number two is “Contemplation”. This song makes the energy shifts again and this is where the EP seems to open up into a more expansive, even chaotic, expression. I hear drums and rhythm coming to the fore. The percussion (drums) and bass likely drive a more intense rhythmic backbone. Guitar, winds or euphonium (or similar horn/woodwind) perhaps weave more aggressive or expressive lines. The song uses Instrumental solos, improvisations and takes center stage. There was an  abrupt shift in dynamics: quiet to loud, calm to dissonant, smooth to jagged. The track likely feels alive, unpredictable and a labyrinth. Contemplation” suggests introspection, but the musical energy seems to push outward. It feels like a mental/emotional storm — a confrontation of inner tension. Maybe the contemplation here isn’t peaceful reflection, but a wrestling: with memory, identity, emotion, dissonance. This track could represent emotional turmoil, restlessness — the necessary disruption after calm and reflection. It’s cathartic, perhaps unsettling, but transformative.

“Mountain Stream (Take 2)”This third song is  a second take on the earlier “Mountain Stream,” interestingly longer (11:15) than the first (4:02). In this version, the group leans fully into free improvisation, using the original melody only as a faint reference. this closing piece as abstract, sweeping — maybe ambient at times, chaotic at others. The instruments stretch, bend, explore textures: guitar turning into noise or drones, wind/euphonium warbling or soaring unpredictably, rhythm loosening or dissolving. Vocals might be ethereal — wordless, layered, or fragmented; a voice as instrument rather than narrator. The sense was of drift, of a mind or spirit untethered — not necessarily disoriented, but expansive. If Take 1 was a grounded stream — representing memory or reflection — Take 2 feels like a transformation of that memory into something more fluid, more spiritual. It’s not just recall, it’s transcendence: memory deconstructed, emotion reassembled. It could symbolize letting go — of structure, expectations, even identity — allowing something new, flowing, open to emerge.

The EP ends with “Ae Fond Kiss (Never run dry)”. this 13-minute piece is  a bold choice. It doesn’t treat the listener gently: right away, there’s a sense of ceremony, of something weighty unfolding. According to commentary, this track fuses a traditional Scottish song (the original “Ae Fond Kiss”), 19th-century romanticism, jazz improvisation, and even spoken word.   That mix already signals that Testaments aren’t playing “safe” jazz — they’re re-imagining context, bringing influences together. the start feeling like dusk settling: maybe soft, hushed instrumentation — gentle bass, maybe subtle guitar or keys, a sparse foundation. Then slowly, voices and instruments begin to layer: perhaps a vulnerable vocal entry — tentative, intimate — that draws you in. As the piece moves on, there’s an unfolding: tension builds, instruments speak to each other, the track evolves across sections. By the time you reach the second half, a more intense, almost hypnotic energy seems to settle in — turning the folk source into something contemporary, emotional, and uncanny. Musically, Using a song like “Ae Fond Kiss” (which traditionally carries love, longing, memory) as a starting point feels deliberate. But by reworking it, Testaments seem to use it less as nostalgia than as a launching pad for renewal — for interrogating memory and emotion in a modern context. The “Never Run Dry” subtitle (and EP title) suggests endurance — love, longing, memory, emotional depth that doesn’t fade. I sense a kind of elegiac beauty: honoring the past, but transforming it. The vocal delivery is described as “raw, poetic, captivating and emotionally sincere” and suggests that this isn’t a romanticized folk revival, but a re-contextualized meditation.  This ending track is slow-burning, haunting, meditative — a kind of invitation to surrender emotionally, to reflect, to feel longing and renewal at once. Ending the EP with this free-form improvisation suggests Testaments wants listeners to leave not with closure, but with openness: ambiguity, unresolved emotions, space. It’s brave: they don’t tie a neat bow. They leave you with after-images, echoes — something you’ll carry forward.

This isn’t just a debut EP; it’s a mission statement. Never Run Dry perfectly encapsulates the Testaments experience, showcasing both the band’s boldly experimental sound and the distinctive, powerful voice of Mark McQuillan as both a songwriter and lyricist. Here’s the twist: every track on the EP is a radical reworking of previously existing music. But in the hands of this quintet, these foundational pieces are utterly transformed, unified by the constant threads of McQuillan’s poetic lyrical style and the band’s instantly recognizable sonic fingerprint. The core of Testaments’ recorded sound is live interaction, and you can feel it thrumming beneath the surface. Even with the meticulous layers of vocal arrangements and the lush texture of the euphonium, Never Run Dry maintains an unmistakably raw, breathing energy—a dynamic sound that captures the brilliance of their on-stage chemistry. I cannot wait to hear more of their music!

Stream the “Never Run Dry” EP on Spotify 

Follow Testaments here and their socials: Instagram, TikTok, Bandcamp, YouTube