Album Review: James Blake - Overgrown

James Blake
Overgrown
Rating: Woof Daddy

James Blake almost lost me. Over the course of his initial EPs, Blake showed that he was a new voice in electronic music that needed to be listened to closely. His unique take on UK bass music, adding a more soulful and even folkier vibe, made him stand out from his contemporaries. When he dropped his amazing take on Fiest's song "Limit To Your Love," showing the world that in addition to his sublime production skills he was also an extremely talented singer, I knew I had to play close to attention to whatever Blake would subsequently do. When his debut James Blake was released I was crushingly disappointed with the finished product. Instead of using the EPs and his new found love of the singer-songwriter aesthetic as a jumping off point, Blake fell flat, releasing a record of almost barely formed sketches. It was like Blake was stuck between both of his muses, not knowing how to reconcile them. I tried over and over again to get my head around what he was doing, and just couldn't connect with it. His subsequent EPs did nothing to assure me that this was a mere misstep and that brilliance would be around the corner.

But damn you James Blake. You had to go and release "Retrograde," possibly the finest song of your career and quite frankly one of the best, if not the best song of the year. That gorgeous croon, the delicate, fragile humming over somber piano chords and muted drum programming, erupting into such a emotional whirlwind. For the first time I felt your presence in a track, inhabiting it like an ancient ghost. When the analog synths kick in like air raid sirens from the underworld, my heart drops, your voice in agony over an unrequited love. You drop back into almost silence, keeping me tightly in your grasp. The aching refrain of "and your friends are gone/and your friends won't come" the perfect encapsulation of feeling lost and lonely in this world.



Overgrown finally shows that Blake has the balls to do what he wants, and backs it up time and time again with songs that toy with your expectations and emotions. This is music that is expertly constructed, but never goes where you think it will go, making you work for a connection but always providing immense release when you do. Overgrown is a hauntingly sad record, full of regrets, missed opportunities, and deep melancholy; however, it is not a depressing record, the music is too alive and intricately plotted for it to be mired in cheap sentiment. His debut was similarly situated but the songs never felt concrete or purposeful, tending to deal with oblique, looping fragments, never coalescing into something meaningful. Here, almost every track feels like it is carrying the weight of the world, Blake shouldering intense emotion. On the exquisite "Life Round Here," Blake laments that "part time love is life round here," while the dense interplay of R&B keyboards and sub bass creates a storm of confusion.



"I Am Sold" seems fragmented but is honestly laid out. Blake repeating the phrase "and we lay nocturnal/speculate what we feel" over and over, coming at it from different angles, his mind trying to come to grips with a relationship that has seemingly been played out.



While Blake has reached an emotional maturity with his lyrics and vocal approach, his production work is still brilliantly nuanced. The one/two punch of "Digital Lion" and "Voyeur" show Blake at the height of his powers. "Digital Lion," a collaboration with Brian Eno, marries ambient drones with thudding drum programming, Blake's voice slipping in and out of the mix like ghosts and shadows, the coda to the track becoming a dense, dub-inflected club banger.



"Voyeur" begins as a fractured piano ballad before a house beat takes over, skittering cowbells, handclaps, and siren wail keyboards wash over everything, revealing Blake hasn't completely overlooked the dancefloor for inspiration.



And one of his most brilliant moments is saved for the end with the delicately structured "To The Last," featuring echoed, reggae touched keyboards, deep bass, and Blake's otherworldly croon, trying to save a relationship that seems doomed.



Even the oddball mistakes on Overgrown somehow find a way of ingratiating themselves with you. On paper and in execution, the collaboration with RZA on "Take A Fall For Me" seems like a disaster, RZA's odd verses incorporating British slang incongruously mashing up against Blake's fragmented voice. After several listens, however, it all becomes a glorious almost train wreck that stays on rails, and even becomes endearing.



Overgrown is so far ahead of his debut that it might as well be from a different artist. Where James Blake was hesitant, unsure, and quite frankly dull, Overgrown is assured, strong, and full of purpose and meaning. His sense of play and contrast with his pop sides and more experimental nature is expertly utilized here. Tracks can begin as tepid folk-based numbers then shift, almost imperceptibly, into dense electronic excursions. There was never a single moment on this record where I knew what Blake was going to do next. Overgrown is the most confoundingly brilliant record of the year, and finally shows the brilliance that was foretold in Blake's initial EPs. While some may say it is too soon to call it, I have to admit, Overgrown is the record of the year so far. All you other artists better step it up if you hope to come anywhere close to this brilliant album.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.