Subtlety in music is a slippery slope. Artists often lose exciting qualities of their music. Panda Bear's Person Pitch is a fine example. It is a beautiful, beautiful album, visceral and effective in its textures, but there's no excitement, no direction. It is stagnant and stuck in time. However, every once in a while there is music that genuinely causes shivers in its shadow play. James Blake's first effort is thus.
Blake, son of guitarist James Litherland, proved himself a capable and innovative producer with a slew of inventive and minimal EP's, but the electronic musician and songwriter has never put out something like this. His voice, haunting in its subtle rasp and dark timbre even in his most falsetto efforts, sits in the center of this work, but feels of equal value of everything in the background. These 11 tracks, full of reverb, swelling synth, and eerie, creaking production, are as gorgeous as they are unnerving.
Starting with "Unluck", nothing seems right. Complex synth chords and drum squeaks build upon each other in not-quite perfect sync. When Blake begins singing "Treated walls care for me, when crossings call out one of three" over irregular rhythms and uncomfortable shifts, the song reaches the edge of chaos, but never crosses it.
The album is like this, Blake creates spiraling, swirling tracks where the words are textural and the atmosphere is silently chaotic. On "The Wilhelm Scream", Blake takes a song of his father's and leaves only 2 sentences, beginning a build up so subtle that it is only noticeable after a few listens. Blake takes something small and simple and turns it into something full of quiet fire. The melodies are pure and beautiful, and the creeping and building shadows behind them only improve this.
"I Never Learnt To Share" is a standout, Blake takes one sentence that is broken, tragic, and pathetic, and loops over himself so many times that he creates a wall of emotion, repeating the phrase until it has absorbed all the meaning that it can muster, with signature brink of chaos orchestration behind him. "Lindsfarne", in both of its parts, explores the choir effect of the last song but in an almost rolling, playful way.
The albums centerpiece, a cover of Feist's "Limit to Your Love." Is a powerful hybrid of raw acoustics and driving electronics, with Blake showing just how powerful his voice really is. Short piano balads "Give Me My Month" and "Why Don't You Call Me?" Showcase Blake's piano proficiency and flexible sense of time, while textural pieces like "I Mind" and "To Care (Like You)" Take a few words and shift them into electronic meditations on indescribable emotions.
"Measurements" is a stunning closer, Blake channels every great Gospel piece of music and every great minimalist piece of music at once in one joyous, final message to the world. The Justin Vernon parallels are obvious (They even worked together on a neat little track called Fall Creek Boys Choir) but Blake defines himself as a different kind of vocal genius with this track.
James Blake is a glorious album. A synthesis of every emotional achievement minimalism has achieved with something far more appealing and easy to listen to. These 11 shining tracks haven't left my brain since I discovered them, and in their glory, I hope they never do.