Yamê: A Voice Between Worlds
Words by Maud Kloninger | Photography by Byron Spencer
Yamê is a singular voice within the contemporary French music scene, weaving together hip-hop, soul and jazz with a lyrical intensity that reflects deep personal and cultural introspection. In an era where virality can crown an artist overnight, he stands out not just for his meteoric rise but for the sincerity and depth underpinning his work.
Catapulted into the public eye by the unexpected TikTok success of his track ‘Bécane’, the French-Cameroonian artist hasn’t merely arrived – he’s arrived with intention. In early 2024, Yamê’s rising star was officially recognised with two major accolades: he received the prestigious Grand Jury Prize at the Music Moves Europe Awards, spotlighting him as one of Europe’s most promising new artists. Later in the year, he was named ‘Male Revelation’ (Best New Artist) at the Victoires de la Musique – France’s premier music awards – confirming his growing influence across the continent.
Released in June by Believe Recordi, Yamê’s debut album – ÉBĒM – introduced by the introspective single ‘Shoot’, represents more than just a milestone. It’s a distillation of his mixed heritage, his artistic vision, and his commitment to crafting a sound that is simultaneously modern and ancestral. Through rich lyrics, layered instrumentation and emotional candour, Yamê is building a bridge – between continents, generations and inner selves.
For Yamê, whose given name is Emmanuel Sow, the journey starts with his chosen moniker. “It has multiple interpretations,” he says of his stage name, which comes from the Mbo language spoken by his father in Cameroon. “At first, it felt like an intuition, a little voice guiding me. But it’s more spiritual than that. It means what’s universal in us, what we all carry inside.” The translation, loosely rendered as ‘the verb’, speaks volumes. A verb is action, transformation and existence in motion. This choice – both aesthetically striking and rich in familial memory – came naturally, even before he fully grasped its semantic depth.
His music mirrors this complexity. Born to a Cameroonian father and French mother, Yamê was raised in Douala (the largest city in Cameroon), where disparate soundscapes coexisted – African melodies drifted alongside French chansons. From that foundation, his musical palette expanded to include American rap, British pop, and the vibrant Parisian underground scene. “Lately, I’ve been listening to Zaho de Sagazan, Solann, Black Odyssey, Hiatus Kaiyote... This morning, it was Tuerie’s latest project, and also Vald, Hamza, DOC OVG. A lot of Francophone artists,” he shares.
These diverse influences shine through in his music – a blend of French-style lyricism, intricate melodies and bold sonic choices. “What I’m really into right now is French-style interpretation,” he adds. “There’s something in how French is sung that I haven’t mastered yet, but I’m getting closer to what I like. I love mixing things up, especially if it’s weird or sounds unlike anything else.”
That spirit of experimentation is palpable in his music – a fusion of lyrical elegance, emotional vulnerability and sonic daring. Yamê doesn’t just make tracks, he builds emotional environments. Nowhere is this more evident than in ‘Shoot’. Written on the road while touring, the track marries an addictive, kinetic rhythm with lyrics that cut deep. “It’s a kind of frenzy with Pandrezz, made between two shows,” he says of the collaboration. But under the groove lies a meditation on addiction – specifically, Yamê’s own relationship with marijuana.
“It ended up being about my relationship with weed – an addiction, really,” he admits. He doesn’t moralise but instead reveals the inner contradictions that come with dependency. In one haunting moment, he references his father’s illness and how he rationalises his behaviour as a way of coping, of providing: “It’s that typical addict logic – telling yourself you need to quit, while still making excuses.”
The video for ‘Shoot’, directed by the Brooklyn-based King She creative and directing collective, mirrors this psychological tension. A single, confined space gradually builds toward liberation, symbolising both emotional entrapment and the possibility of release. It’s a bold visual statement, one that doesn’t shy away from complexity or discomfort. Like the track itself, the video prioritises artistic integrity over algorithmic appeal. “I’m just focused on enjoying the process,” Yamê says. For him, success isn’t about chasing viral moments – it’s about resonance.
And if ‘Shoot’ is an emotional dispatch, ÉBĒM is the larger map. The album takes its title from another Mbo word, meaning a gathering place – traditionally where villagers come together in the evening to share stories, wisdom and reflection. “It’s where young people sit down at night to hear the elders’ tales, often with morals,” Yamê explains. For him, ÉBĒM is a digital echo of that space: a sonic circle for communal storytelling, for passing down both joy and struggle. The album journeys through love, disillusionment, memory and emotional growth. Tracks such as ‘Comme on vit à deux’ explore the human need for connection, while others tackle the silent weight of time.
Yet despite its thematic gravity, ÉBĒM is no sombre document. “Even with the heavier themes, I found joy in making it,” Yamê insists. The album is a celebration – not of perfection, but of the emotional messiness that defines us. It’s an acknowledgment that beauty lies in the tension between fragility and strength.
Yamê’s creative method is as fluid as his sound. He thrives on instinct, crafting songs in bursts of inspiration, be it during residencies, jam sessions or spontaneous studio nights with longtime collaborator Pandrezz.
“I don’t have a fixed routine, but I try to stay as instinctive as possible. That’s what I love most – especially when playing live,” he says. Those unstructured moments, full of trial, error and discovery, have been crucial to his development. “There are all these little subtleties,” he notes. “And that’s what makes our sound – me and Pandrezz – unique. It’s hip-hop, but there’s warmth in the arrangements, the samples, the sound design.”
The piano plays a central role in this process. Originally just a hobby, it evolved into his primary tool for composition and performance. Influenced by musicians such as Cory Henry of Snarky Puppy, Muse’s Matt Bellamy, jazz pianist Hiromi and Brazilian funk icon Ed Motta, Yamê’s approach to the instrument is intuitive rather than academic. “It’s all about feeling,” he says. Whether he’s layering chords in the studio or improvising live, the piano helps him translate internal emotion into external form.
But music isn’t his only source of inspiration. Yamê pulls from a wide range of cultural touchpoints – video games, manga, television and contemporary art among them. “We don’t always realise it, but everything we consume has an influence,” he says. Friends in the visual arts offer him fresh lenses through which to see and reinterpret his own work. This cross-disciplinary openness is central to his ethos: art isn’t a silo, it’s a conversation.
With the release of ÉBĒM, Yamê is looking ahead – not with pressure but with curiosity. Touring is a priority, and sharing his music live remains his deepest passion. The idea of connecting with global audiences excites him. And Australia? It's high on the list: “I’m curious about how music – rap, rock, everything – plays out there. I want to meet local artists and see how they create,” he explains. It’s not just a logistical goal, it’s a genuine desire to understand, learn and grow.
Yamê is a rare artist – anchored in his heritage yet unafraid of the unknown. He honours tradition while pushing boundaries, telling deeply personal stories that echo with universal truth. With ÉBĒM, he offers listeners a space to feel, reflect and connect. His journey, much like his name, is a verb: ever-moving, ever-becoming; where the traditional meets the contemporary, and where the personal becomes universal. Whether in Paris or Douala, Yamê’s voice is one that resonates far beyond the confines of categorisation.