2010 was apparently the year of dub-step. The year of what? The 'D' word is thrown around so much these days it's practically lost all meaning. Any new sound that comes along that cleverly uses bass tones seems to branded with the red hot, dub-step poker. Well here's hoping James Blake doesn't become the same fate. Yes, he's produced on behalf of artists from the genre and his own music clearly has strong influences originating from dub-step. But he's a further evolution of the sound, lets label him post-dub (not that any artist should be labeled in this day and age!). So James Blake finally delivers to us his debut, self-titled album. Coming after the critical acclaim of his CMYK and Klavierwerke EP's and after Blake was named one of the BBC's Sound of 2011 artists, anticipation for this album is almost unprecedented, while during all of this Blake has managed to keep himself quite elusive. It's actually quite difficult to describe this sound, as for the most part there just isn't a huge amount of it to talk about. The music is so stripped back, the vocals feel exposed and almost vulnerable with no sizeable amount of music to shield them. Each song builds agonisingly slowly and most don't even reach a point of climax, they just grow, beautifully exponential. Blake proves himself a master at so many musical aspects. Most notably are his vocal distortions, whether it be the crackling auto-tune of 'Lindesfarne I' or multi-layering on tracks like 'I Never Learnt To Share', it's all incredibly accomplished. But the centerpiece and masterstroke of the album makes you question why he hides behind these talents. 'Limit To Your Love', is an incredible reworking of Feist's original and you are immediately struck by the stunningly raw voice that Blake possess. If it wasn't for the vocal track the song would be almost non-existent, except for the occasional piano riff and subtle bass drone. This song is of the kind of perfection that warrants words like 'definitive' and 'seminal' being thrown at it. A few of the tracks on the record are just snippets of Blake's skill. At less than 2 minutes, 'Why Don't You Call Me' with its frail female vocal, is a perfectly crafted, faultlessly rounded 1:37 of haunting beauty. Whether this album is beautifully minimalist to feed its own pretentiousness or whether it is simply the work of a hugely gifted individual is hard to decide. But what is easy to decide is that this album may almost be too good. For the debut album of a 22 year old, it's reserved and minimalist while being visionary and complex. It is near perfection and bettering it could prove to be a sizable challenge for Blake.