In 2010, Jamie Lidell found a new direction. And it was appropriately called Compass. Representing a perfect blend of all the styles he’d employed in his career to date, the album paints a thick, gritty picture from the outset. Opener “Completely Exposed” begins with Lidell singing over a heavily affected beat-box before the grimey, lurching track drops in, featuring some kind ofIn 2010, Jamie Lidell found a new direction. And it was appropriately called Compass. Representing a perfect blend of all the styles he’d employed in his career to date, the album paints a thick, gritty picture from the outset. Opener “Completely Exposed” begins with Lidell singing over a heavily affected beat-box before the grimey, lurching track drops in, featuring some kind of sampled riff that sounds like a saw-player picked up a two-by-four on accident. Lidell intones “I don’t wanna be closed, but opening up has left me completely exposed”. Whether the lyric references his new-found fame, or his production collaborations on the record (including Beck, Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor, Lindsey Rome, Robbie Lackritz), the vulnerability seems to be doing him some good. “Your Sweet Boom” follows, an exceptional song in concept and execution, even managing to employ a pitched-down verse vocal and still maintain emotional substance (that is some kind of feat, let me tell you). As Lidell sings “We don’t need no armor for protection”, the recurring theme of vulnerability is overtaken by a rallying of the troops, swept up in a swell of shimmering synths and ascending vocals.
The pacing on the album is diplomatic, spreading the highs and lows evenly throughout, and while it makes for a distributed listening experience, I feel like some of the tracks could have been repositioned. “She Needs Me”, while a compelling slow jam in its own right, totally wastes the momentum built by “Your Sweet Boom”. Fortunately “I Wanna Be Your Telephone” rebounds quickly with a blip-bloopy boogie and sampled scenery, followed by “Enough Is Enough”, a gem of a tune that sounds like a young Stevie Wonder revving up the Sesame Street block party. The stomp-clap heave of “The Ring” features another unrecognizable sound (vocal? guitar?) squeezing out a squirmy, dusty riff. It’s one of many examples of the truly unique and captivating textures Lidell creates on Compass, often allowing him to prop up potentially bland melodic moments with sonic intrigue.
Another album highlight arrives with the twelfth track, “Coma Chameleon”, which serves as an example of everything Lidell does best. The huge, Zeppelin-esque drum intro gives way to Rhythm Nation-style churchbell hits. The understated chorus creeps along an eighth-note bounce with horn chops and a devious earworm hook: “Coma chameleon If you ever wake up you will see what you have done”. The song is a stylistic achievement, simultaneously showcasing Lidell’s studio creativity, vocal panache, and songwriting ability elements that are present all throughout Compass, but don’t consistently enjoy perfect alignment like they do here.
Ultimately, Compass isn’t a perfect record, but it is a bold statement. Having tried his hand at genre-homage, Lidell seems to have found the blueprint for an effective marriage of his electro-producer past and blue-eyed soul frontman present. The results are compelling and boast gobs of potential. Here’s to hoping Lidell shares my view of Compass as a singular success, and moreover, continues down this trail that he is truly blazing all on his soulful lonesome.… Expand