The xx – ‘Shelter’

We need to talk about The xx. Like, properly talk about them. I sometimes feel that in between all of the hype, the remixes of Adele and Florence, the Essential mix gems, the Biggie mash-up, collaborations with the late Gil-Scott Heron and Drake and the ongoing success of the Young Turks label nobody is actually listening to The xx anymore. It’s symptomatic of when something becomes bigger than it is; a floating reference point back to a phenomenon that nobody can even remember because it seems like 5 life cycles ago. A quick search of our own history confirms it; we have three pages of results from entering this band’s name, but only one of them is their original song. And that’s a real shame, because Xx was an era-changing album. Florence’s wasn’t, and neither were either of Adele’s. So of all the acts who merit revisiting on our site, Jamie’s trio are certainly it.

A black disc with white writing, The xx’s debut arrived innocuously and certainly nothing in the press release accompanying it made me believe that it was going to be any more important than the rest of the stuff that fills our mailbox every day. I put it on for the short drive to my drum student’s house, one which typically took ten minutes. I arrived forty-five minutes late. That’s because I was sitting out there in the rain listening to the subsonic bass of ‘Islands’ and wondering what the hell had just happened to music and how I could tell as many people as I could about it in the shortest amount of time. It turns out, retrospectively, that short of their Australian label, I was one of the first people in the country to hear this group, and though their UK press had been onto it for a few months more than we had, it was all startlingly new. But my biggest jaw-drop was and remains reserved for ‘Shelter’, the anti-pop song, the opiod-induced swoon of the century, the devastatingly, utterly romantic piece of Brit Pop that still floors me as much today as it did nearly three years ago. Producer Jamie has been credited for bringing a lot of things back to music – sensitivity and musicality among them – but the real win that hasn’t been emphasised nearly enough in my opinion is how he reworked the concept of space. It might not be immediately apparent, but there are many, many layers to a song like ‘Shelter’. But if you play it, if feels like there’s nothing but yawning chasms between the first note and the next, the bass and the glass keyboards, the guitar and the vocals. I always liked to imagine, as I did on that rainy afternoon, that these songs were mixed by separating the sound sources out on a grid and inserting six tracks dead air between each one. It’s seriously special. And moreover, in an age when it’s the buzz word that equals marketing gold, it’s actually, undeniably unique.

It’s probably the very fact that Romy Croft doesn’t sound like a trained vocalist that makes ‘Shelters’ so convincing. Her voice, which sustains itself remarkably over long pauses and without any bells and whistles to hide behind, if fragile, broken and sumptuous. It complements that bass figure and the complete lack of drums, commanding attention. If ever there was a song for broken lovers, this is it. It doesn’t end with a gigantic burst of colour like we expect pop music to. Indeed, apart from switching to quavers on the bass, very little about this minimalist piece does shift, which forces you into a different state of listening altogether. When I was in London earlier this year I found out on the second day that I was living across the road from the XL studio where this song was recorded. For many of us, that little corner of Notting Hill may end up being our generation’s Abbey Road monument. But at the time, I just sat outside with my coffee and looked wistfully at the front door, wondering what Romy, Oli and Jamie were cooking up next. If it’s anything half as good as this, it’s going to be a great 2012.

The xx – ‘Shelter’

Bonus: Hercules & Love Affair – ‘Shelter’ (The xx Cover)