James Yuill This Sweet Love

This is a one-man attempt at electronica, and he's nailed it. James Yuill has been on my playlist for months, but, as a sign that he's not a one-week wonder for me, I've taken my time to listen, become accustomed to, and grow to love the sounds of folk and electronica melting into one. There are acoustic guitar sounds layered over computer-made synth sounds, with catchy beats and lyrics reflecting on moments of love [lost]. And you wonder why I'm sold on this artist.

James Yuill's album has an 80s electro pop sound with a grown up GenX reflection to it. At times, the lyrics are solemn, a touch of loneliness echoing in his vocals. But rarely does the song stay mellow for too long. Almost as soon as he slows it down, there are foot-tapping beats rising again. Even though I can listen to this at any season, I think it might fit best in winter, for the days where we need music to keep us going through the darkness.

London's James Yuill is one to watch. There's room in the music world for his kind of tunes, and I bet that slowly but surely, the blogosphere will warm up to his catchy folktronica tunes.

Yuill's music is right up my alley with electroacoustic digs and a distinct folk vocal tone; he presents an indelible combination of acoustic pop with heavier electronica. From his bio: Like many music lovers of his generation, James Yuill has a passion for both the emotional songwriting and atmospheres of artists such as Nick Drake, Radiohead and Sufjan Stevens and the visceral beats and dynamic rhythms of Justice, Chemical Brothers and Aphex Twin. The music is meandering and forceful at the same time, and I expect Yuill to break out from his UK stardom to greater international popularity in no time "“ Knox Road

Turning Down Water for Air is constructed of gently-plinking guitar, cello, laptop and sensitive-busker vocals, and the result melts in the mouth. With a rich vein of rejection as inspiration, Yuill errs on the side of bedsit neediness ("I know you want me to hurt myself" is his riposte to an ex on Somehow) that somehow never palls - probably because his words are underscored by dancefloor-ready beats. The Chemical Brothers and New Order are obvious touchstones, but on the standout No Pins Allowed, which switches from ballad to hissing digital monster, Yuill is promisingly individual "“ the Guardian