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I
t’s tempting to lazily tag Jamie
Smith (AKA Jamie xx) as the
latest wunderkind. But both
his production track record (Radiohead
and Florence remixes, the honour of
re-working Gil Scott-Heron’s final album)
and the thrilling nature of new solo
album
In Colour
mean the epithet fits.
One third of UK band The xx, Jamie
spent three years completing this love
letter, of sorts, to the better elements
of England’s dance scene of the last 25
years. By no means simply a disparate
collection of strong ideas,
In Colour
is
best experienced from start to finish
– because it’s an energised, assured
and compelling rush that should
beguile, engage and exhilarate anybody
with a genuinely curious ear and an eye
on new directions in music. It’s also a
quintessentially, and quite deliberately,
British
record. Jamie bathes proudly in
fragmented strands of UK dance
culture, dipping into everything from
post-jungle dissonance to urban soul,
scattering disembodied samples of
English street and club life throughout.
But what makes
In Colour
really
captivating is the ease with which
it skates around clichés; it’s a skillfully-
danced tightrope between the
soulful and the melodic that avoids
overloading the empty spaces, and
talks to those who live the experiences
of the culture it comes from. It’s a real
music lovers record, about being who
you want, if only for a night. Opener
Gosh
is all clamouring, scattershot,
rhythmic clatters and threatening bass
before a tide of over-arching keys
(that may, gently, remind you of The
Clash’s
Straight to Hell)
give way to
Sleep Sound,
a vaguely bucolic step
and shuffle best heard on headphones.
See Saw
ups the rhythm and the ante
with a tasteful house feel, as The
xx’s Romy Madley-Croft makes her
first of two guest vocal turns.
Just
Saying
is a perfect mid-point: it’s the
drift in the ears at dawn after that
big night – when next you wander
deserted streets at sunrise, here’s a
soundtrack. The dank bass textures
and sirens of
Hold Tight
summon
classic UK electro (a touch of
Orbital), while
Loud Places
will be
an anthem (Romy’s other guest
spot is a star turn; the refrain is
a rush, and an earworm). But it’s
Oliver Sim’s beautiful vocal turn on
Stranger in a Room
that sums up
In
Colour,
his voice hanging in the song’s
delicate space:“You want to disappear
in a crowd/ just a stranger in a room/
change your colour/ just for the night.”
It’s got a digital heart and an analogue
soul: a dance record few will move to,
but a captivating journey through pure
music to be enjoyed.
Jonathan Alley
091
MUSIC
RPM
R
EVOLUTIONS
P
ER
M
ONTH
Belters, Must-Hears,
Assorted Musical Wonders
and Other Curiosities
Jamie xx
In Colour
Nutshell Verdict
Love letter to last 25 years
of dance music, still sounds
like now
STACK
Picks
Stranger in a Room,
Loud Places
(Remote Control/Inertia)
If the Harry Highpants slacks, patent leather
loafers and non-ironic cardigan don’t tell you
where Leon Bridges lives, check out the song
titles. Yep, they’re on the
front
cover, which
means we’re heading
back
to the classics. Percy
Sledge and Sam Cooke are obvious touchstones
within the first 30 seconds of
Coming Home
, an
unapologetically vintage-styled immersion in the
sweet spot where gospel dips its hip to soul. The
kid from Fort Worth has all it takes, sliding his fine-
grit tenor around soulful pleas to this lady or that
while his band – skinny black ties and Ray-Bans
almost visible though the reverb – echoe against
the naked bricks. In
Lisa Sawyer
, the grandson of
a preacher man bolsters conviction with a potted
family tree harking back to ‘63 (mmmm, ‘63).
The clincher is
River
, an almost acapella hymn
clearly recorded around a single microphone.
Kid can dance, too, they say. Watch out.
(Sony) Michael Dwyer
Leon Bridges
Coming Home
Bootleg bores have
doubtless been
smugly aware that
the wrong version of
Brown Sugar
kicked
off the Stones’
nastiest album in
1971. The live ‘Keef’s birthday’ studio
take with Eric Clapton and Al Kooper
tearing it up is one of the priceless
nuggets unearthed in this third,
non-chronological, Deluxe Stones
reissue series (see recent doorstop
editions of
Some Girls
and
Exile
…).
A more ramshackle leer at
Can’t
You Hear Me Knocking
is similarly
electrifying and a ringing acoustic
take of
Wild Horses
highlights Mick
Taylor’s plucky harmonics and Jagger’s
unembellished vocal. Much of the rest
is live: two strung-out and filthy gigs
from Camden and Leeds just ahead
of the Stones’ legendary French exile
catastrophe. As for the re-masterpiece
itself, well, somewhere between the
sinewy snarl of
Bitch
and the opiated
drift of
Moonlight Mile
is an argument
for their Best Ever Album that will
probably rage over spilled drinks and
blown amps for all time.
(Universal) Michael Dwyer
Rolling Stones
Sticky Fingers
(Deluxe)
New York has been a historically pivotal city
for music, from jazz to folk, punk rock, hip hop, house and electro.
The town’s sharp edges come from its taut urban geography
and long-running cultural diversity. In 1995, London label Soul
Jazz released this compilation of Latin-influenced music that
had erupted in NY in the ’70s from the large communities of
Cuban, Puerto Rican and Dominican musicians whose irresistable
cross-cultural blend took inspiration from Africa, Brazil and the
Caribbean. Criminally out of print for a decade, this must-own
collection is an explosive look at genuine cultural phenomenon,
and comes with a re-mastered audio and 35-page booklet of in-
depth liner notes.
(Soul Jazz/Inertia) Jonathan Alley
Nu Yorica
Culture Clash in
New York City (reissue)
Best Coast
California Nights
They’ve got close in the past, but on album three, this Cali duo
have finally struck the perfect balance between the lo-fi jingle jangle
of Brit popsters like The Primitives and Lush, and the glossier
girl pop of compatriots such as The Bangles and The Go-Go’s.
As with their previous
Crazy For You
(2010) and
The Only Place
(2012),
California Nights
is awash in ridiculous, catchy melodies
and sun-kissed harmonies, but there is a joyous new confidence to
Bethany Consentino’s vocals, and a gleam and swagger to multi-
instrumentalist Bobb Bruno’s buzzsaw riffing. However their love of
the original C86 bands still shines through, particularly on the bratty
thrash of
Heaven Sent
and the bittersweet grandeur of the closing
ballad
Wasted Time.
Some long time indie fans may cry ‘sell out’,
but with pop hooks this good, who’s complaining? A most welcome
ray of sunshine for winter months.
(EMI/Universal) John Ferguson