Psychologist (aka Iain Woods) - Waves Of OK

This particular psychologist is, in fact, an almost unbelievably diminutive man called Iain Woods. The name has stayed with him while his music has changed almost beyond recognition. A couple of years ago he was releasing faux-dubstep demos on Myspace. Waves Of OK, meanwhile, is more chamber-soul, simple piano figures underpinning sparse percussion, and supporting Woods’ cracked voice.

Opener ‘Together Clinging’ could easily be seen as characteristic of a man in need of psychological attention. It is a strangely disturbing five minutes of rambling answersphone messages about Oxide & Neutrino and Stoke Newington venues. Who collects answerphone messages? The track gradually opens up, with glacial pads and Peter Gabriel-esque harmonies, before collapsing back in on itself.

As a rambling anecdote about UK garage tails off, the answerphone messages give way to stand-out ‘Comes In Waves’. This is the most melodic track here, the ‘Take me out of my depth / Make me tread water / Get out of breath / And ward off my death” refrain providing the record’s take-away moment. Truly, ‘Comes In Waves’ is as beautiful a song as you are likely to hear this year. It is simultaneously celebratory and eulogistic; a story of imminent birth and recent death. Woods’ voice, which elsewhere strays into a trying-too-hard warble, is here pared back, controlled, restrained. The rolling percussion is just enough to maintain momentum until, two thirds of the way in, a choir of Woods appears to insert a lump firmly into the back of your throat.

There is no subtlety on this record. It is not about nuance or detail; it is about pushing emotional buttons. But that button-pushing is executed with such skill and, above all, such conviction, that its relative one-dimensionality doesn’t matter. It is unabashed catharsis of the sort that should be embarrassing to listen to. Instead, it is gripping.

Live, however, psychologist is a different prospect altogether. A few days ago he filled the church in Stoke Newington in which Waves Of OK was recorded. An ensemble traipsed onstage, clad in black hooded capes; a small choir, three string players, a guitarist. And then Woods himself, positively balletic in a tunic-like outfit.

The tracks from Waves Of OK are, for the most part, rendered beautifully in this most reverent of settings. The howling ‘Untitled (A Possession)’ is startling, if only because of the sheer power of Woods’ voice, while ‘Comes In Waves’ takes on a new, impressive weight.

More than anything, though, the live show highlights the importance of quality control for psychologist. When Woods strays from the tracks that appear on the record, it has uncomfortable consequences. Solo songs are characterised by clumsy guitar work and the skipping-around-the-note, semi-Aguilera trilling that appears occasionally on Waves Of OK, completely undermining the beauty of some of the evening’s best moments.

Woods has been adept at fostering a sense of occasion, of excitement and novelty. Waves Of OK broadly lives up to this, its simplicity giving it a singular power that few artists achieve. My recommendation? If you want to maintain the illusion, buy this record, play it to death, and never see him live.