In Colour (Young Turks)
Dance is a diverse form of magic. Presented professionally, it is valorised as an art in its own right: a display of finesse and precision, immaculate and expressive. In its more accessible and common guise, on the other hand, ideas of craft are abandoned in lieu of a fundamental reach for escapism. Dancing leaves our brains on the backburner and releases our energy physically, clouding the regard for one’s own image (hence the risk of looking like a bit of a muppet). The feeling overrules the thinking, and – especially in concentrated environments – the rush of released endorphins unlocks a transcendental feeling of bliss: a sense of belonging and infinite potential, as anxieties melt away along with self-consciousness. The mechanics of the pleasure are incredibly basic, but a great dance record can make an instant, visceral connection such as this, where the compulsion is so swift and compelling that it utterly transports the listener.
He may be only several years into his career, but Jamie ‘xx’ Smith has already demonstrated an intuitive grasp of how dance music functions, applying his sonic Midas touch with an acuity which can be breathtaking. His reputation has steadily grown since his emergence in the late-noughties, operating as the thoughtful backbone of quiet champions The xx, remix artist par excellence, and producer-of-choice for a burgeoning legion of famous fans including Drake and Alicia Keys. With his CV so impressively stacked, Smith has become one of the leading lights in contemporary dance music, even if his persona is one which seems to be permanently shrouded at the back of the club. Surrounded by his more outspoken collaborators, he resembles a watcher in the shadows; a magpie whose curious mind is constantly alert to the sounds around him. As a result, even while heavily invested in his tentpole projects, Smith has amassed a broad collection of field notes and sonic morsels, which he decided to corral into his first solo album as late as autumn 2014.
It speaks dividends about Smith’s talent that in spite of its casual conception, In Colour is a phenomenal result. Smith takes the world chronicled in The xx’s work – lonely, delicate confessionals as intimate as whispers between friends – and floods it with light, filling the empty spaces with mesmeric beats, bright splashes of keyboards, and samples – of his own candid footage and homages to past greats alike. The xx’s music never sounds less than intensely personal, and Smith’s own sculptures can serve as insights into the tastes of an insatiable audiophile. Yet the auteur’s audience-savvy instincts elevate these tracks far beyond personal indulgence, as he taps into that transcendental escapism with a consistency that dazzles.
The irresistible tug of ‘Gosh’ dispenses such magic immediately. Its playful pirate radio samples and seismic, siren-like crescendos harness the wide-eyed excitement associated with the beginning of a journey – in most cases, a Journey to the Centre of the Rave. The effective, gleefully deliberate build-up is a sheer joy to return to, but as with much of In Colour, it’s a trick that never feels overthought. It’s polished, but not obsessively so, and likewise, Smith’s many influences are assimilated into the odyssey without sounding clunky or distracting. ‘Sleep Sound’ draws from the same twinkling ambience as Until the Quiet Comes-era Flying Lotus, braiding together dreamily cascading melodies and staccato vocal snippets into a pulsing shuffle. Elsewhere, one senses the warmth of Caribou, swirls of Orbital, and the starry fug of Floating Points, all brushed between the rave-ready beats which jump between ’90s house and modern breakbeat.
And then there’s the presence of The xx, whose signatures are never fully abandoned. While In Colour‘s trip is Smith’s own brainchild, these ‘narratives’ occasionally overlap with those of The xx, as Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim’s brief appearances come across like parallel events witnessed in the same space. It’s a balance perfected on ‘SeeSaw’, where Madley Croft’s voice floats in and out of the warm clatter like a solitary individual in a packed club. She makes a more direct return for ‘Loud Places’, though her yearning vocal is subverted and then glorified as Smith twists the melancholia into a neo-gospel plume, with the aid of Idris Muhammad’s ‘Could Heaven Ever Be Like This’. Sim’s own outing on ‘Stranger in a Room’ is the cut which cleaves most closely to The xx’s traditional template, but the burbling electronic melody keeps the line drawn without disrupting In Colour‘s headier flow.
But leaving aside all baggage and just looking into the manifest sounds, In Colour is distinctive and flavoursome enough to stand alone. Put simply, these are just great tunes, man. They don’t need overwrought analyses or lofty interpretations to work, because they sound terrific of their own accord; sleeky produced and seamlessly sequenced into a fantastic single listen. As with all nights out, there is a misstep or two along the way; most noticeably the cameo of Young Thug, whose incongruously X-rated verses almost derail the otherwise glorious ‘I Know There’s Gonna Be (Good Times)’. His crude wordplay chafes awkwardly with the album’s otherwise blissful tone, but if you can tune out Thug’s references to his squishy dick, there’s barely a blemish to be found on In Colour. From the giddy pulse of ‘Gosh’ through to the crystal-cool swagger of ‘Girl’, it’s a near-flawless showcase for Smith to loosen up and transport his audience to higher places, proving dance’s power as a catalyst for an extraordinary experience.
“OH MY GOSH.”