One of the most striking characteristics of James Blake’s self-titled debut album was how patient the young singer-songwriter-producer was. On “James Blake,” quietude became an instrument. At times, listening to the album felt like listening to audible silence. But Blake didn’t match this placidity in his EPs. He didn’t even try to, toying instead with more traditional, noisier electronic productions. So there was some mystery surrounding Blake’s newest album, “Overgrown.” It wasn’t clear if he would, or even could, return to the ground he explored in his debut.

Despite the obvious temptation, comparing the two albums isn’t really fair. Sure, both albums dance around the same ill-defined intersection of electronic music, dubstep (not fratty, Skrillex-y dubstep — nuanced, subtle dubstep like that produced by Mount Kimbie) and R&B. But they exist in two totally different contexts. “James Blake” was a bedroom album, crafted with a laptop and little else. “Overgrown” comes after international acclaim and a world tour and was recorded with more live instruments, giving the music a much richer sound.

From the first track, it’s clear that Blake is ambivalent with regard to this new context. On the eponymous opener, he warbles, “I don’t want to be a star/ But a stone on the shore.” The album isn’t a rebellion against his new context, though. It sounds more like halcyon resignation. 

The songs rarely accelerate past a crawl. Even when the drums speed up to a frantic pace on “Digital Lion,” a droning synth and Blake’s airy voice rein the track in.

There are some brief departures from Blake’s normal style. RZA raps on “Take A Fall For Me,” and even though Blake counters RZA’s (comparatively) up-tempo delivery with ever-sparser production, the track seems more energetic than the rest of the album. But, again, that’s the exception. A better microcosm of “Overgrown” is the final track, “Our Love Comes Back”: The song starts with Blake’s crooning but soon drifts into two minutes of piano and humming. The operative sound, though, is silence. And that’s what distinguishes James Blake from the legion electronic producers with laptops: his ability to make emotive music from the absence of music. (7/10)