Jamie Woon - Mirrorwriting

From the very first bar of understated drums in 'Night Air' there's an immediate sense that you've stepped into a world where there's more to be said of what isn't than what is. Such is the modern potency of minimalism in music that draws inspiration from the pioneers (John Cale, the Velvet Underground) to the contemporaries (The XX, Aphex Twin), that each echo in Jamie Woon's opening track to his debut Mirrorwriting feels almost spiritual in its neglect and suggestion.

Critics at the beginning of the year were eager to pin Woon into the shadow of James Blake. At first the comparisons are fair: both experimental solo males with a penchant for quiet, soulful music. But those of you who follow this site regularly will remember a pretty scathing review for Blake's self-titled LP: it lacked in every sense of the word. Where Blake relied on his (to be fair, pretty nice) voice to carry along each drop of emotion, Woon elaborates musically. In 'Street' a repeated percussion hook that sounds like clattering metal is guided along with a pretty standard rhythm to significantly catchy effect. This kind of repeat-for-hook approach introduces 'Lady Luck'; also dabbling in Woon's signature vocal trickery to keep things fresh, at times sounding like Justin Timberlake with a soul (or Daniel Merriweather, to namedrop someone better and slightly less known, innit).


That voice is exploited to a more conventional and haunting effect in 'Shoulda', a mournful little reflection ("I walked when I shoulda ran, and I ran when I shoulda walked") executed perfectly with a subtle echoed shoegazing background. 'Middle' sounds comparatively crazy, a much more conventional soul rhythm that sounds like the skeleton of a Quincy Jones production. This approach continues with 'Spirits', an apt title for its ghostliness and uncertainty, but a little too hesitant and pensive to really stick out.

'Echoes' includes some string arrangements that really add to the ominosity of the record, where Woon sounds at his most vulnerable and confused. There's then an almost poppy feel to 'Spiral'; playing on chirpy tunes and sweeping acoustic guitar that pitches Woon somewhere between Portishead and Paolo Nutini. It's quite evident that supporting Amy Winehouse has had some impact on the record - 'TMRW' is so Mark Ronson that the Daniel Merriweather comparison stands to gain some weight. The track is a pretty bouncy one, perhaps the noisiest too with its layers of orchestration.

There's a little intermission in 'Second Breath', a 50-second spot to tap your feet that's a little bit kitsch to serve any real purpose, before 'Gravity' arrives in an intro of heavy, gloomy synths. Perhaps one of the most beautiful tracks on offer, it's the sonic equivalent of a long shower, and it almost feels guilty to draw such bliss from lyrics of jealousy and longing. 'Waterfront' is a pretty bizarre choice to close the record with, sounding more fit for promotional purposes (I smell Live Lounge) but it's again just too good to squabble over tracklisting.



Every beat, every snap, every breeze feels alive. Its as if at every time during this record a cog is in motion to keep alive not only the music, but life itself; Mirrorwriting is both intrinsically minimalist and breathtakingly visionary. Pharmacists should prescribe this record for those suffering from high blood pressure.

Rating: 9/10
Highlights: Gravity, Echoes, Shoulda, TMRW, Night Air
Avoid: Second Breath (not offensively awful, just not particularly necessary)