The XX – I See You (Young Turks)

We all know that 2016 got Black Mirror levels of topsy-turvy, but perhaps one of the (rightly) less analysed stories of the year was the bizarre influence of The XX’s self titled debut released 11 years earlier had on mainstream pop charts in 2016. Their fingerprints are all over last year’s top 40- from Drake and Rihanna’s duet Take Care to The Chainsmokers’ Don’t Let Me Down.

Characterised by cold arrangements and lyrics that read like text messages, within their debut The XX crafted unassuming hushed inward looking songs intertwined with muted echoing guitars. It was music that avoided catching your eye because it was locked in a deep conversation that it did not wish to be disturbed from. They were a band that were comprised of two song writers conversant in the primal language of heartbreak and loss, whose anguished sparse vocals were complemented with spidery guitar lines that created a depth of feeling with delicate grace.

For all their minimalism, and zen like restraint they packed a punch of drama and emotion into their debut. XX was an album that was expected and did gain critical acclaim, a Mercury Award, and a following among elegantly black clad bands. However its aesthetic was so singular it cast a shadow over manufactured pop music as well as themselves.

The fact that they produced such a fully formed debut was problematic when creating their second album, Coexist. The result was too close to their debut without the memorable song writing. Their latest effort, I See You, has finally pushed them to the next level. It is not a betrayal of their core sound, but rather a natural growth from within it, and they finally sound comfortable in their own sound. They continue to work with their limitations and prescribed set of sounds, incorporating everyone’s talents but this latest offering is richer and more varied.

For a band that normally communicates in sighs and whispers, there are some surprisingly danceable moments on I See You. Opening track Dangerous begins with a horn crescendo that underpins the entire song, while I Dare You has a sky scraping hook that is as close as The XX have got to being anthemic to date. Joint vocalists Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim retain their idiosyncratically understated and unshowy vocals. What they lack in range and depth they make up for in clever and resourceful inflection and subtle shifts in phrasing. This is lusciously illustrated on A Violent Noise and closing track Test Me.

Production-wise Jamie Smith has opened the band up to the wealth of influences that were evident on his stunning debut In Colour. The result is clearer, with delicate EDM and Tropicana references, drum fills, and samples. The tension on each track is slowly built but never truly resolved, but therein lies The XX’s charm. Jamie has a disturbing ability to fit rhythms perfectly with each emotion being conveyed, therefore giving each song the perfect beat. This newfound confidence gives the album a different energy; it vibrates with a bright synth tone and optimistic strength that lacked in their previous records. Rather than shyly slinking around corners they have stepped into the light yet remain as haunting as ever.

Kate Powell