James Vincent McMorrow - Post Tropical

The last time I took a crack at reviewing someone whose debut LP was but the folky, quiet preamble to a stunning, electronica-infused sophomore it went and got my second ever 10/10 rating (and also contained a stand-out track called Glacier), so it's looking at least a little tough for Mr. McMorrow to compare. His 2011 effort Early in the Morning was a real slow-burner with British fans, but he managed to make an impression on the singles chart with a charming cover of Steve Winwood's Higher Love (possibly because it was doing the rounds on The Voice at the time). Chunks of tracks have also been popping up on BBC trailers out of nowhere, so despite that #68 album chart slot he's not really been forgotten. Hopping up forty places three years later only proves that.

It's an unnerving challenge though, going up against the likes of Passenger, Ed Sheeran, Bon Iver and James Arthur and all of those other chart-dominating gentlemen. What, exactly, raises him above the competition?

Well, the higher notes on opening track 'Cavalier' should help. A haunting, pensive little beauty even without the vocals, McMorrow seems at first standard and pleasant but by the end of the first chorus the effect is almost religious. This delightful surprise keeps happening over the course of the record - the rich harmonies layering on 'The Lakes' make it particularly reminiscent of Bon Iver's self-titled 2011 opus, whilst on 'Gold' he's fighting with the brass to make the most striking impression. It's all very breathtaking but if there's anything Bastille and Woodkid proved with their misguided debuts it's that pomp and ceremony are meaningless, and a little bit irritating, if there's nothing behind it all.

The constant 808s and sampling of his own vocal hooks makes the record at times distinctly Blakey but I think we can all agree that's generally a good thing; 'Red Dust' might have the hollow, stark imagery of Woodkid tracks ("that once was my vision of birth/ now is my vessel and curse", just reminds me of the parody Twitter account attributed to Tilda Swinton), but he's willing to explain it to us mere mortals ("Sometimes my hands; they don't feel like my own/ I need someone to love, I need someone to hold"). The hooks are minimal but not nonexistent: 'All Points' has a chirpy little percussion loop that's built on with quirkier choices (give that clarinetist a hug from me).

My only complaint is that some tracks have a tendency to hit the ground running without much fuel: the title track in particular does repeat itself without much fascination and there are times on 'Repeating' where you're sat there wondering if it's going to get as good as the opening few tracks again. Thankfully, it does: 'Glacier' takes us under its wing and nurtures into something marvellous, whilst the closer 'Outside, Digging' is only more uplifting (in a totally morose way: "there is so little warmth left in the sun" is its main message, after all).

It's the kind of record that makes you want to send text messages to friends you haven't spoken to in a while - well it might just be me, really, because it's something I just did - and ultimately you're going to love it if you love Bon Iver. I don't like to cheapen McMorrow's individuality but here the comparison is so clear and so flattering that I don't mind.

Rating: 7.5/10
Highlights: Cavalier; Outside, Digging; The Lakes; Look Out; Red Dust
Avoid: Post Tropical

Artwork Watch: Actively seeking out the font as we speak.
Up next: Sophie Ellis-Bextor