JAMES BLAKE レコード& CD

Review: Remember when James Blake first popped into the common conscience? Or slid, subtly, gently, barely-existing, like a thought without a mind, lost in the vast expanse of silence, trying to be heard? The originality of those early outings will always stand out as defining a moment in UK electronica where things began to change; post dubstep, haunted by the ghosts of garage, pre-techno takeover, genres starting to collapse back in on each other, paving the way today's label-less stuff.

In comparison, Friends That Break Your Heart is a far, far more traditional episode in the story of Blake. Those old fragments of tracks haven't just been glued back together, new parts have been added to create incredibly detailed and - dare it be said - busy collages. It's R&B infused, synth topped, pop balladry influenced electronic future soul. And we're really quite (very) into it.

Review: Since releasing his second album in 2013, James Blake has become one of the most in-demand artists and producers on the planet, recently appearing on Beyonce's much-hyped "visual album", Lemonade. On The Colour In Anything, it's very much business as usual, with Blake only occasionally veering away from his drowsy, atmospheric, piano-and-vocal template. These variations on a theme - the subtle, 4/4 techno-pop of opener "Radio Silence", the autotune-sporting R&B pop of "I Need A Forest Fire", tactile warmth of "Always", and frankly quite odd accapella throw-down "Meet You In The Maze" - add interest, though Blake remains at his best when concentrating on his most emotion-rich and heart-aching songs.

Review: James Blake's debut album is undoubtedly one of 2011's most keenly awaited releases, and its arrival via his own (major label funded) Atlas imprint ensures their is no lull in momentum for a producer who enjoyed a watershed 2010 with releases on Hessle Audio and R&S. The results here differ wildly from his previous sonic excursions - gone are the shimmering R&B soaked melodies of "CMYK" and the sheer experimentalism of the Klavierwerke EP, which saw the young Londoner depart from the confines of the dancefloor and enter a realm where there was only a passing reference to rhythm-based music. Instead we are treated to Blake's own yearning, raw voice, delicate pianos and an underlying sense of melancholy. Ubiquitous single "Limit To Your love" and the crackly sonic terrain evoked on "The Wilhelm Scream" are among the most immediately pleasing moments, but there is much to explore here. It's a fascinating opus and surely the catalyst to a long and fruitful career at the top.