BRITTICISMS

Personal Notes on James Blake

At first, I thought it was about the lack of lyricism, the direct quality in the phrases and the instrumentation. But now, James Blake’s voice wraps around me, all smooth-like. There is an assuredness evident beyond his age. Or perhaps, the way he sings is exactly of his age - the soulfulness competing with the energy and exhaustion of the world around him. After having settled with the album for close to a month now, it’s multitudes have become more evident: the weight of a single idea, the minimalism among the occasional barrage of noise.

I listen to the CMYK EP, and then the Klavierwerke EP, and then his self-titled full-length everyday, sometimes transitioning from one song on one work to a different work. The driving element is the singular, the repetition of a line or two and using those elements to create a whole.

Everyone can’t love everything, at least not equally. This is what I have to remind myself in regards to Blake’s music, which to me makes more sense than most anything I’ve heard in a long time. The way I write about his music now is strained. I’m trying to find the words to describe both what I hear and the way it makes me feel. My feelings rise immediately, but what they are - pensive, fervor - is not entirely clear.

I have to remind myself that music is personal, and the way we respond to an album, or perhaps just a song, stems first from the self. My feelings are not universal. The way I feel about “The Wilhelm Scream” is closely tied to my present mood, the apprehension and confusion of being this age and watching life happen elsewhere. It was the first song I couldn’t stop playing, and the one I go back to again and again. Things are still the same.