Andy Zulu’s new album Eleven Eleven, released July 7, 2025, is more than a blend of Americana, roots rock, and classic rock—it’s a carefully carved narrative about legacy, struggle, and self-discovery. The heart of the project was sparked not in a studio, but in a museum. While visiting an exhibit, Zulu came across a pottery jar crafted by David Drake, an enslaved artist in 1800s South Carolina who defied anti-literacy laws by inscribing poetry into his work. “It felt like his voice was still speaking,” Zulu says. That encounter became the emotional foundation for The Jar, the album’s haunting lead track—and the beginning of an album deeply rooted in both historical reverence and musical experimentation.
Zulu’s transformation of Drake’s couplets into The Jar is both reverent and fearless. From that moment, Eleven Eleven unfolded into 11 tracks, each track a new lens on the human condition—grief, joy, rebellion, freedom. “It’s a range of emotions,” Zulu says. Sonically, the album channels the storytelling grit of Tom Petty with flashes of Lenny Kravitz’s swagger. You’ll find quiet moments like the vinyl crackle at the end of 1973, and sunlit textures in Floatin, which closes with the sound of waves kissing the shore. The album doesn’t just evoke emotion—it places you in it.
Zulu’s sonic signature is rooted in classic rock melody and the raw pulse of roots rock, but his execution feels refreshingly current. Think: The Black Keys if they’d grown up on Marvin Gaye. What makes Eleven Eleven shine isn’t just Zulu’s songwriting—it’s the detail in the production. Bassist Pablo Arruda brings a rich, rhythmic thread through the entire album, while Sergio da Silva’s percussion drives the energy without ever overpowering it. Add Pedro Silveira’s mandolin, Yuri Villar’s sax solo on January Girl, and engineer Yago Marques’ subtle polish, and the result is a record best heard loud—or alone, under headphones, where every nuance can breathe.
Despite the polish, this is still a fiercely independent record. Zulu has taken the long road—writing, arranging, and producing Eleven Eleven on his own terms. That independence gave space for collaboration, resulting in a sound that feels both personal and cinematic. Listeners are already connecting with its emotional reach, especially The Jar’s historical weight and Floatin’s serenity. “Close your eyes, and you’re at the beach,” Zulu says—more invitation than instruction.
You can stream Eleven Eleven on Spotify, Apple Music, and iHeartRadio, or follow Zulu’s latest updates at andyzulu.com. He’s planning to bring the album to the stage soon, with live performances in the works. Reflecting on the process, he shares, “I wish I’d known to trust the process earlier—to let the songs tell me where they wanted to go.” That trust, hard-won and heartfelt, is woven into the DNA of the album.
Looking forward, Zulu is already writing again, aiming to hit the studio once his next collection takes shape. He hopes to play a handful of shows and keep building a community that resonates with the spirit of Eleven Eleven—music that doesn’t just sound good but means something. From The Jar’s poetic defiance to January Girl’s playful charm, these tracks feel ready-made for road trips, record shelves, and reflective nights.
“Thank you to everyone vibing with us,” Zulu says, his gratitude extending to every collaborator, especially Pablo and Yago. Eleven Eleven isn’t just an album—it’s an echo of the past reimagined through Zulu’s own voice. Honest, textured, and defiantly human, it asks you to feel something—and you will.