Like a police man might say, to keep a crowd from gathering in front of some sad incident, “move on, nothing to see here.” But morbid curiosity forces us to keep peering at James Blake. Indeed, there’s nothing new on this record, nothing we haven’t heard before: there’s only one track on it, “Limit To Your Love”, for which there even is a marvellous video. So why buy this item? Nobody has to, but if you’re thinking about it, there are several good reasons for it. First, its presentation is impeccable, as elegant as the song: on one side of the 10”, some kind of appendix to the “Klavierwerke” 12” –the same sleeve, only with a red filter–, and the same aesthetic use of the piano, electronica and voice. The difference between “Limit To Your Love” and Blake’s previous EPs lies in how that voice appears: presenting a masterly song with a baritone register, equivalent to a jazz standard in the present state of confusion in which dubstep is finding itself. James Blake hadn’t sung like this before: we only know his voice atomised on pieces like “The Bells Sketch” and “CMYK”, cut-up in syllables. Here we discover that he can sing like an angel, as the unexpected link between Burial and Tindertsicks. The other reason is also very simple and logical: this is more than a song. It’s a generational anthem. It’s a four-minute masterpiece. It’s an important record because it indicates where his 2011 album will be going and audiences are responding the way they should: the first pressing is almost sold out. Find it now or be sorry later.