Most people don't give electronic musicians enough credit: Eking vibrant, expressive sounds out of a panel of knobs and sliders takes a unique skill set. James Blake proves he has those skills — over and over — on his self−titled debut, "James Blake." In an eclectic mix of dubstep, minimalist techno and soul music, Blake has carved himself a unique niche in an overcrowded scene.
Every track on his new album feels vibrant and alive, which is incredibly impressive considering how understated his production is. Blake has a knack for making the most out of the simplest synth sounds. A chord or loop that may sound sterile at the beginning of the song quickly comes to life under his skillful direction. The spare, bare−bones opener "Unluck," for example, will pleasantly surprise anyone who listens for longer than 30 seconds.
Strange chugging rhythms, clicking noises and hissing synth−work soon seep into the song, giving it a rich and varied sound. The track approaches a climax of dramatic major chords before it lapses into another unexpected movement. Blake's soulful voice sounds as good without processing as it does through his vocoder, paving the way for some interesting duets on later tracks.
The next track, "The Willhelm Scream," takes a simple, alternating verse and chorus and throws it through Blake's inventive electronic process. The lyrics, which repeat, "I'm falling, falling, falling…" would get tiresome if it weren't for Blake's impassioned delivery and unique production. The sound of the track quickly deepens as Blake brings in percussion with heavy reverb — a sound reminiscent of Plastikman's ominous "Consumed" (1998).
"I Never Learnt to Share" is a showcase for Blake's voice, one of the undeniable strengths of the album. Vocoders have provided many singers in contemporary music with the opportunity to front a band without much vocal talent. Thankfully, Blake's voice is strong enough to make the vocoder more supplemental than essential. As the track begins, Blake laments failed familial relations in a weepy delivery. Before you know it, his vocoded counterpart comes in for an interesting duet that blurs the line between human and electronic performance.
One of the most interesting tracks of the album is "Limit to Your Love," a gospel−tinged song with a haughty chord progression and more interesting vocal work from Blake. The song begins conventionally with Blake singing and playing the piano, but percussion and delay effects are quickly introduced, solidifying the genre−bending trend with which Blake is so occupied.
Considering how disparate Blake's influences seem to be — everything from James Brown to The XX — the songs remain extremely cohesive. At times, Blake consciously pushes the boundaries of sonic compatibility with his production choices, only to resolve them in unexpected ways. The undulating, industrial bass synth on "Limit to Your Love" is just one example. The oddly distorted acoustic guitar on another track, "Lindesfarne II," maintains the clarity of the instrument while adding a new layer of fuzzy, distorted bass. The result is jarring before it becomes one of the most compelling elements of the song.
Like any great album, "James Blake" reveals new elements on every listen. Blake's tasteful production and interesting musical choices keep the album from feeling derivative, even as it borrows certain aesthetics from different genres of music.
Sometimes you could swear "James Blake" is a dubstep album and at other times, a soul album. Depending on your mood, either would be apt. The only thing that remains the same after each listen is a certainty of Blake's multifaceted talent as a producer, a singer and a composer. His debut offers a small hint of a growing talent that will surely influence today's electronic music culture.
