I had owned Jamie Woon’s debut, 'Mirrowriting', a matter of hours and had listened to it only twice, when it became the ignition of an argument between a close friend and I. Not only did I passingly use the term ‘post-dub’ (which on refelection was slightly stupid, as it shows that The NME may actually have an effect on my life. And no one wants that do they?), I also compared Woon to namesake Blake. Apparently this was a most heinous of crimes. Sure, the comparison is an obvious one, but its apparentness does not make it void.
Both have been propelled along by a whirlwind of hype and anticipation. Both are minimalists in their approach to the instrumental aspects of their work. Both possess crooning vocal talents. And perhaps most weirdly of all, both are named James. With Blake’s first effort being released back in February, Woon’s debut effort has now arrived and it is he who has come out on top with his opening salvo. 'Mirrorwriting' is full of simple complexities, exposed vocals, a myriad of influences and an instant, mass audience appeal that perhaps Blake was slightly lacking.
Lead single 'Night Air' opens the album and has lost none of its charm over the five months since its original release. It’s tapping beat and clicking fingers perfectly backing up Woon’s soulfully perfect vocal track on which his lungs seem just that mouthful short of air. 'Street’s' intro is somehow reminiscent of the drums so often used by dubstep’s grandmaster, Burial. While 'Lady Luck', 'Morrorwriting'’s second single, feels like a male interpretation of the life and works of Destiny’s Child, with its hollow xylophone and scaled vocals. The Snoop Dogg tongue pop is also deftly used. 'Shoulda', builds brilliantly into something of nothing. The song never really moves anywhere while still feeling enveloping with its growing synth and its slap bass solo. 'Spirits' cleverly uses electric sequencing, more so than other tracks on the album, while giving off a huge pop R&b vibe akin to that of Justin Timberlake.
In its second half, the smoke and mirrors minimalism starts to wear thin. 'Spiral' takes a drop in pace which the album never fully recovers from. 'TMRW' never really decides on what it wants to be, part piano jazz, part choir chorus with a bass wobble thrown in for anything but good measure. There is one reprise of inspiration however; 'Gravity' sees Woon strumming his acoustic guitar amid haunting synthesized echoes. He’s at his most soulful vocally too, moving from the discreet to the powerfully moving effortlessly.
'Mirrorwriting' most certainly has the mainstream appeal that will garner Jamie Woon more chart success and radio play than his contemporary, Blake. But where Blake, on his debut, knew exactly what he was trying to achieve Woon’s music often seems the slightest bit conflicted. Clearly drawing heavily on some none mainstream influences while never pushing them too much to the forefront, perhaps in fear of losing his universal appeal.
If 'Mirrorwriting' took human form, it would often forget about its own claustrophobia before clumsily locking itself in a dark pantry and then begin convulsing and breaking into a profuse sweat at the imminent danger posed by the situation it had got itself into.
NOTE FROM THE EDITOR
We don't run any advertising! Our editorial content is solely funded by lovely people like yourself using Stereoboard's listings when buying tickets for live events. To keep supporting us, next time you're looking for concert, festival, sport or theatre tickets, please search for "Stereoboard". It costs you nothing, you may find a better price than the usual outlets, and save yourself from waiting in an endless queue on Friday mornings as we list ALL available sellers!