“I’m going to make a loop now…predictably.” After three LPs and a slew of headline tours, James Blake knows what he’s about. His three-piece lineup cruised confidently through a post-Splendour trip to Margaret Court Arena with a set heavy on stormy material from his recent The Colour In Anything.
Pritchard’s generally low-key set had its biggest fan at the back of the arena floor, where hero of the night White Pants Guy cut shapes among a more sedate crowd waiting mostly motionless for the main event. By the time Pritchard waved politely and walked off stage, White Pants had won a few fans, and was high-fived by a few other punters on the floor.
Blake himself emerged to applause that he described as surprisingly enthusiastic for a “minor artist” like himself. Such determinedly self-effacing banter was in sharp contrast to an initial run of songs blasting thicker synths and more tumult than fans of his previous two albums might’ve expected.
This is the main shift evident in James Blake 2016 vs. Blake of years gone by- the sheer muscle of his new tracks. The stop-start piano melodies and choirboy whispers are still present, but the bass kicks are more slamming than merely metronomic and the bulk of the show had an atmosphere of a fuzzed electro panic attack. This may reflect Blake’s stated desire to move away from operating mainly as a bedroom artist and his taking on more outside contributors (Justin Vernon, Frank Ocean, almost Kanye) for recent recording sessions.
However Blake himself remains the centerpiece of the show, and after the storm and stress sensory overload of material from The Colour In Anything some old favourites were aired. Feist’s Limit to Your Love got the biggest cheer of the night, followed closely by the one-two of Retrograde (that humming intro, goddamn) and a gorgeous rendition of Joni Mitchell’s A Case of You. White Pants Guy could be seen at that point leaning against a friend and presumably, like most of those present, feeling some feelings.
The encore saw Ben Assiter (drums) and Rob McAndrews (guitar and samples) cheered off before one last ‘predictable’ loop. Blake may be pulling his style in a more abrasive direction lately but there aren’t many artists around who can match him for caress in largely negative space.
Measurements soothed and Blake left the stage with his gently orbiting layered croon fading out until the house lights came on.
BY MICHAEL BIRD
Liked: Good manners from all involved.
Hated: Walking home in arctic weather.
Drank: Shiraz from a plastic cup.
