Leifur James comes of age on the magnificent Magic Seeds

That first album was a fine, outward-facing release, much of it guitar-based, assertive yet never dogmatic. The second was, unfairly, criticised in some quarters for its more introspective character, the synths creating a brooding atmosphere with some of the shadings of an imminent thunderstorm. However, there were some wonderful shimmers of light in the dark, many from the glittering piano sequences, alongside jazz-inflected vocals and dub echoes of Burial, and the disc’s effectiveness was all the greater for these carefully thought-through contrasts.

On Magic Seeds, James handles certain elements of electronica, neo-classical and nocturnal urban sonics with greater confidence than ever, resisting the temptation to over-produce the overall sound. Some tracks, such as “Lay” have a paradoxically chilling yet simultaneously enveloping quality, while others, for example “Measure of Mind”, demand appropriately-focused attention to appreciate the intelligently-incorporated details.

In an 2108 interview, James stressed that time was perhaps the most essential ingredient for him, and on this album it’s clear how carefully considered these recent compositions are. The vocal variety is more extended than previously, and individual track construction is stronger than ever, as on opener “Smoke in the Air” and the following title track with their skilful integrating of slow vocal, precisely-timed rhythms and swirling electronics demonstrating fine control over the components that might, with less expertise, have drifted into diffused vapours.

This is an album, on the Night Time Stories label (sister of Late Night Tales), of adventurous and ambitious range, rewarding in so many respects. Often cerebral, but never over-intellectualised, it succeeds through James’s compositional talent and his commendable sense of production balance and discipline.