Artist: Jamie T.
Album: Panic Prevention
Hell yes, he’s got a thick accent. Jamie T. is a snot-nosed 22-year old South London punk that sings with an accent thicker than that asshole judge from The Wall. Plus he’s got that damned initial thing with his name. Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.
Granted, he’s all that but Jamie T. has also has managed to cobble together an eccentric – at times brilliant – pop record called Panic Prevention that is one of the best albums of the past year. O.k. so it officially was released in 2007; what can I say? I just got it a couple of months ago. Grampa’s a little behind the curve these days.
Jamie T. the type of character that seems as comfortable playing groove-laden pop as he does yelping out drunken what-the-fuck-did-he-just-say London-isms. But it’s all extremely listenable stuff. In fact, songs like the infectious roller “Sheila” and the pulsing Casio-driven “So Lonely Was The Ballad” are downright unforgettable. They feel like instant pop standards the moment they pour out of the speakers. The slow burner “Salvador” is a bass driven, howling rock-disco hybrid that should have its own car commercial if there is any justice in the world. “From here to Salvador, the ladies dance / to fill us reckless sons with the passions of the heart.”
The way this kid sings, though…I can’t do it justice in print. You absolutely have to experience it. Think Elvis Costello at his snottiest, and you’re still only halfway there. I hope they had some extra windsocks on hand at the recording studio, because I guarantee Jamie T. was slinging spit like a goddamned thoroughbred on the home stretch. This is a good thing; the kid is giving it everything he’s got. ‘Immediate’ is a good adjective for it. He’s wildly unschooled in the best ways imaginable. He can also reign it in and suddenly be quite poignant at turns. It’s not unlike hearing early Bob Dylan for the first time; someone who technically sounds too strange to be a conventional “pop singer,” but clearly has some sort of tiger by the tail, and is letting it all hang out.
Panic Prevention hopscotches styles and genres effortlessly. “Calm Down Dearest” starts off with a stumbling drunken rap about stumbling around the city wasted, and somehow manages to weave itself into a beautiful ballad…and then back to the drunken rap, now sounding more like a drunken lament. The album itself is wildly diverse, and with a few rare exceptions, it never feels too experimental or weird. The wheels never come of the wagon, but the wagon has a fuckload of places to go. I recommend the trip.
I’m interested to see what Jamie T. does next, though I doubt it will rival Panic Prevention for sheer youthful audacity. Don’t let his age or his accent fool you, though. He brings the goods on just about every track. He’s a great songwriter, an energetic performer, and –most importantly - one hell of a fun listen.
Scott Gordon, January 3, 2009
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