It is my understanding that the term “dubstep” means different things depending on what side of the Atlantic you’re on. Stateside, it means the sort of bro-friendly, attention deficient, robot-sex music that’s made its way into car commercials and cheap summer movie soundtracks. In Britian, however, dubstep is a little more subtle–shifting textures over time, setting grooves and resting in them, forming a subset of electronic music much more suited for a late night drive than a trailer for the new Transformers movie.

James Blake is one of the premiere soundsmiths playing for the Brits, and this, his debut record, is everything good dubstep should be: haunting, meticulously crafted, innovative, and above all, compelling. Of the thirteen songs here (the vinyl has bonus tracks, suckers–including the brilliant Tep and the Logic, which is an even better opener than Unluck), every one of them bring fresh textures, clever songcraft, and beautiful performances from Blake. I Never Learnt to Share features a looped vocal line adding vocoders and bass synths until reaching a nerve-bending climax. Lindesfarne I & II bring acoustic guitars into the ghostly keyboards and electronic drums. Later into the album, Blake leans heavily against a grand piano, proving his mastery of traditional R&B songwriting and performance as well. And when paired with his angular electronic work, magic happens. His cover of Feist’s Limit to your Love would be good enough as a stripped piano tune, but when the rapidfire bass pulse hits during the chorus, you realize that Blake isn’t satisfied with making pleasant music. His mastery of soundcraft and songcraft alike make his debut an album that stands on its own in a musical landscape of cuts and pastes.