I’ll always enjoy James Blake’s sound and voice. Perhaps that’s why I really enjoy nearly of all of his works, even though there’s not much change in substance. Even when his previous effort, Overgrown, dipped in its second half, I still deemed it a success from him. This album has its fair share of flaws too, but they’re mostly overshadowed by the amount of strong songs on here. The most glaring flaw on here is that it’s simply too long, with too many misses to justify its length. When I say too many, I mean about four or five out of the 17 tracks on here, so it’s not that big an issue. After all, these misses aren’t atrocious, so there’ll be at least a couple of people who will enjoy them more than I do. The piano-heavy ballads don’t quite cut it for me, but others seem to like them, so I’ll give them a pass. For all these problems, in association with some of the lackluster ones, it’s impossible to dismiss the irresistibility of the rest of these songs. But had it been shorter, it just could’ve been his defining opus. Sometimes I just don’t understand why artists go for grandiosity over cohesiveness.

The album also tends to drag in places. As usual, James Blake’s moping can get a little tiring after the first seven or eight tracks. The problem isn’t that they aren’t enjoyable, but the repetition of the same themes over and over again can be tedious, especially when you know you’re only halfway through the album. However, just when you feel like pausing the album, “I Need a Forest Fire” comes in and it immediately grabs your attention. What’s different here is that it’s not somber and full of despair for once. On the contrary, it’s quite beautiful, hopeful even, mainly because of Bon Iver’s ubiquitous presence throughout the song. It gives the album enough momentum to push onwards until the end, at least until “Meet You in the Maze” leaves the album on a rather flat note. If what you’re looking for is self-pity, gloominess, and desolation, you’ve found a cornucopia of it. But there’s still something so special about James Blake’s sorrow, and it isn’t about his voice for once: It’s his growth as a singer/songwriter.

If you know James Blake, you know that he started out as a producer. Then, on his debut, he revealed that there was more to him than just knowing how to craft a song; he could perform them just as well. His debut, a fine one, was chock-full of minimal tunes that barely qualified as “songs.” This was done on purpose of course, but only up until now, Blake has slowly been expanding his song-craft. What started out as minimal electronic blips revolving around a simple motif are now fully developed songs. I think “Modern Soul” represents his maturation best. Other songs on this album represent this growth just as well, but “Modern Soul” begins beautifully with a simple piano riff, and slowly builds upon it with added layered elements until it reaches its climax. Same goes for songs like “Timeless” and “Always.” Compare these compositions to earlier songs like “I Never Learned to Share” or “Lindisfarne” and the differences are stunning.

One reason I’m slow to criticize Blake’s sad-sack repetitiveness is because I’ve been eager to watch him master his sound before he attempts any major changes. Only after this album is when his trademark sound will begin to offer diminishing returns. Six years ago, he was a dubstep producer showing bleeping signs of life, and now he stands before us as a songwriting soul crooner full of emotions. I’ll be excited to see where he goes next as a produce, but it better be forward. I believe that he’s an original, but even originals have numbered days. If he’s as good an artist as he is a producer and singer, then he’ll throw us a curveball in sound on his next album. But for now, this is the culmination of all of his past and current sounds. It’s not necessarily his best, but it’s arguably his most essential and accessible release to date. A-

(Key Tracks: "Modern Soul," "I Need a Forest Fire," "Love Me in Whatever Way")