King Krule is the project of Archy Marshall, a 17-year-old from Britain, slight in stature with orange hair, a Tilda Swinton-esque severity in facial lines, an adolescent androgyny in some ways, visually but not vocally.
In Marshall's debut EP under this moniker (Donkey Kong Country fans will get it), there exists that kind of distinctly British ennui, laced with melancholy, anxiety, resignation. Marshall's voice and guitar are at the centre of this music. (You could probably call him a singer-songwriter in that Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, blah blah blah kind of way and not be too far from the mark.) His vocals sound aged--his is a voice beyond his years and one that is bigger, deeper, stronger than his small frame seems capable of. The delivery and the introspective nature of these songs carry traces of the blues and hip hop. At the same time these five tracks recall the dreamy traipse of Felt or The Durutti Column. It's all quite sparse but there is warmth in there: in the untrained vocals, in the beautifully conceived, rising and lilting, guitar lines that never quite take you where you expect them too. The sublime guitar is cushioned in the brand of carefully finessed electronic music recently championed by James Blake, Nicolas Jaar, Jamie xx et al. Vocals often emerge from the background--there is something beneath the surface in this music and so it is at times harrowing, but also mostly harmless. There is pith in this EP. For all the talk of this guy's remarkable voice, the first thing we hear emerge from his chest is not a note but a cough, the guy clearing his throat... but, for whatever inexplicable reason, even this seems somehow important.

(Posted on 6/02/12)