Canon Blue Colonies by: Steve Scully Mon:17-Sep-07 Label: Rumraket Year: 2007 WB rating 85 out of 100

Daniel James, the only member of Canon Blue, is alone. It is not for us to judge, merely from his music, whether he is loved by friends and relatives or not; that is for James himself to determine, as any claim on the listener’s behalf is but an assumption. Nonetheless, from the music available to us on Colonies, Canon Blue’s debut album, one can fall on either side of the line: is Daniel James alone in this world, or does he feel the complete opposite?

Colonies is an album of enormous sonic ambit. Basing his songs in the traditional music world – writing the majority of tracks on piano – James broadens his vision, embracing electronica to build on basic, accessible roots. Amid the electro tumult of his own creation sits a single voice: a clean, relatively unadulterated sprig of humanity in a world of artifice. This voice has a gorgeous, heart-rending effect. Bearing similarities to artists as polarised as Rufus Wainwright and Scott Weiland (the Weiland we glimpsed on his solo, 12 Bar Blues record, before his Velvet Revolver misadventure), James’ exhibits shades of Jeff Buckley in his vibrato, even Thom Yorke in his falsetto. Canon Blue may be reminiscent of many acts bridging the electro and rock gap with smooth vocal chords, but it is among the most successful in the recent line – Hamish Cowan’s Hamish was abominable, Yorke’s Eraser patchy, Like Drawing Blood by Gotye (Wally De Backer) nothing short of brilliant.

James has created a vicious, bone-rattling world of machines; computer-driven mayhem underlies almost every track on Colonies, and those spared the turmoil are noticeable purely for such a lack. ‘Sea Monsters’ is a wonderful, balladic track, driven by piano, strings, and a strong, guiding voice; even in this, Colonies’ most organic track, there is the threat of an invasion lurking in the form of a subtle, electronic hum.

Subverting music’s accessible nature, James is in turn questioning the actual fabric of the music itself. As with many electro artists before him, he uses the new to replicate, and make comment on, the old. Chopping-up, sampling and layering the piano in ‘Baptesme’, he is confronting technological advances by embracing them. By juxtaposing the natural talent of voice with electronic chaos, the effect of James’ work reveals the merits of the natural by placing it in contrast. He may have taken electronic music in his stride, and used it exceedingly well, but you can’t escape the sensation that the melodies are what drive this record and make it unique. In a way James is using electronica to prove that the method of music is inconsequential when compared to natural, basic songwriting.

It is Daniel James’ sole vocal presence that begs the interpretation of his work as one of criticism, or at least of deeper meaning than merely a work of whim. In ‘Pilguin Pop’ the smooth vocals are offset, and almost overwhelmed by the heavy beats, and in ‘Rum Diary’ the excessive clatter almost hides the vocals completely. Too often only the melody breaks through, any lyrics left hovering in and out of comprehensibility.

However, when heard we are often treated to snippets of dark imagery, as in ‘Rum Diary’, where James sings, “You took the world with you into the darkness/But didn’t bring it back,” and in ‘Odds & Ends’, “Nothing ever feels right/When you got a knife in the back of your head.” The album is full of such allusions to betrayal and despair, resulting in the inevitable conclusion that this is a work born of the artist’s own depressive state. Unlike Beck’s Seachange, in which the stripped-back nature echoed perfectly his psychology, Colonies represents loneliness amidst clamour – James’ vocals and quiet pessimism, a voice almost lost, which we strain to fully appreciate. Nonetheless, such loneliness is transcended through melodic beauty.

Canon Blue’s Colonies is what you wished for – conscious that such a wish was in vain – when you heard Thom Yorke was doing a solo alt/electro album. The melodies are reminiscent of folk/country acoustic acts, while the electronica is a mishmash of heavy beats and out-there effects similar to current avante garde electro act World’s End Girlfriend. You may not agree that James is alone, and may see this as an ultimately optimistic work with regard to the power of simplicity to communicate amidst modernised chaos; it’s your eye, you are the beholder. Notwithstanding your interpretation, Colonies is as aesthetically beautiful a record as 2007 has seen.