Music

It can be hard for bright young things to live up to their long-term hype. Elements that sound endearingly ramshackle in an underground act can come across as overly mannered or plain unprofessional in a big-name band. Thankfully, as this album shows, Jamie T’s uniquely engineered charms have survived the transition from worst-kept secret of London’s indie scene to genuine unit-shifting chart star.

His music has struck a particular chord with today’s yout’ thanks to its carefree combination of genres, including (but not limited to) punk, dub, hip hop, electro and his kitchen sink. Nor are these subtly blended with the reverence of the musical historian, but rather rudely cut-and-shut ready for a joyride. The freaky likes of ‘Dry off Your Cheeks’ could be PiL’s bid at the Eurovision title.

The most charismatic element of the music is, of course, T’s thick, slurring voice, alternately yelping and swooping, falling behind or skidding in front of the beat. But this singularly messy singing style brings his compositional skills into sharp relief; he just couldn’t get away with it without the rhythmic steel which underpins every track. Listen to ‘Ike And Tina’, for example, its fits of atonal computer noise held in check by a relentlessly danceable bassline. It means that even if your ears can’t quite work out what’s going on with ‘Panic Prevention’, your arse is in total control of the situation.