Having been one of the most talked about new names in the music biz, showing up on numerous new year "ones to watch" lists, the expectation on James Blake's debut has been heightened more and more over the last few months. Though often a challenging and perplexing listen, the young Londoner succeeds in innovatively blending stark soul, dubstep and experimental electronica into something startlingly unique.
Though quietly making waves with a number of small underground releases for some time previously, for most, it was Blake's unusual and striking cover of Feist's 'Limit To Your Love' that brought him out of obscurity. In many ways, this curious and radical take on an already elegant and understated soul-flavoured song gives a reasonably good indication of what to expect from 'James Blake' - eccentric beats, reverberating basslines, and quivering, almost elusive vocals. Yet, this classically trained pianist has much more simmering just below the surface.
Considering the affecting nature of Blake's voice left au natural, it's almost a shame he's chosen to pitch shift it constantly as a stylistic statement, a successful one if perhaps used overzealously. The a capella sound created by harmoniser on 'Lindesfarne I' is reminiscent of Imogen Heap's 'Hide & Seek' and almost as poignant, before it gives way to the more musical synths of 'Lindesfarne II'. But so much more moving is the vulnerability palpable in Blake's fearful tones on 'The Wilhelm Scream' or during the unaccompanied opening of 'I Never Learnt To Share'.
While the uneasy electronics of 'To Care (Like You)', the jarring skips on 'Why Don't You Call Me', or the repetitive bending vocals on 'I Mind' might seem straight out weird at first, they are grounded within the context of the more accessible tracks that surround them. So, though he occasionally seems to be purposely and sometimes unnecessarily challenging his listeners, Blake's flair for invention is always admirable and oddly endearing.