Loraine James exists on her own frequency, to such an extent that it can often take some time to properly attune oneself to herĀ sounds, which might seem amiable or even vaguely familiar but carry more than a trace of something deeper and tend to reward many repeated listens, over the crackle and sweep of seasons as days and months fade into years.
That is especially true of her ambient monicker Whatever The Weather, which at first glance might seem as passive as the name suggests. Partly the enigmatic or even radical and recusant nature of her work owes to her range of influences, which encompass everything from Drexciyan submersibles to the ecstatic minimalism of Julius Eastman, footwork staples like DJ Rashad, Jana Rush and Jlin, the intelligent dance music of Aphex Twin, Squarepusher and Telefon Tel Aviv, the cutting-edge pop reconstructions of SOPHIE or the more louche stylings of Erika de Casier and more primary instigators like Death Cab for Cutie or the calypso her mother would play on steelpans. More though it is a quality which seems to reside within her patient and somewhat tentative compositions, which often appear tranquil on the surface but unspool or unfold to carry a steeply propulsive force while remaining somehow elusive.
After introducing the glacial breaks and temperate moods of her alias on 2022’s self-titled album – preceding the Eastman homage Build Something Beautiful For Me, which offered muted meditations on black musicianship and identity as she vaporised pieces like ‘Stay On It’, ‘Femenine’ and ‘Crazy Nigger’ with its sweeping cascades and lapping shores, and Gentle Confrontation, her third album for Hyperdub which saw her embracing some of her favourites from adolescence, including Telefon Tel Aviv whose Josh Eustis masters this album plus the misty downtempo and glitch electronics of Dntel and Lusine – now James returns to Whatever The Weather searching for a warmer atmosphere while introducing more hardware as the Tasty Chips GR-1 granular synthesizer, the Korg SQ-64 poly sequencer and the Novation Peak get through much of the grunt work alongside Ableton, her digital audio workstation of choice.
‘Bit chilly innit. Proper chilly though. Can’t wait to be next summer’ James says in the opening moments of Whatever The Weather II.
Titling each of her tracks based on her own sense of their emotional temperature at the time of recording – while readily accepting that like a bright sun beaming through the windowpane on an otherwise frosty day or the burst of rain which inevitably follows a heatwave, this sense of warmth and cold might prove faulty and is liable to change – these words of comfort and anticipation plus some foreboding on the aptly-named ‘1Ā°C’ give way to a faint refrain of ‘He’s gone’ as the piece is engulfed in a bright, blaring and even balmy haze.
Whether it’s the real thing or an effusive attempt at SAD lamp therapy, already summer seems to be on the horizon as ‘3Ā°C’ is bathed in a gilded sheen despite its loping kicks and glitchy textures, while ’18Ā°C’ is more overcast as Whatever The Weather II proves by turns diaphanous or gauzy and mesh-like.
Wafting like a breeze, James has the ability to both tap into and suffuse the everyday. Whatever The Weather II features field recordings which she captured in two of her favourite cities, Tokyo and Paris. From convivial grown-up conversation to babulus playground chatter, ’20Ā°C’ introduces these recordings amid a few sublimated ice cream van ditties and car horns, its minor chords segueing into a skeletal or paper-thin juke offering as the sounds of children at play continue to tether the composition, her brittle rhythms against the warm vibrations and sustained tones of the synths like brisk footsteps on concrete, demarcating the surrounds.
Then ’23Ā°C (Intermittent Sunshine)’ shifts away from warm tones and syncopated rhythms as budding synthesizer clusters play a looping music box melody. ‘5Ā°C’ develops the association through an iterating pattern of gongs and chimes, opening out through a quizzical and hesitant motif which is redolent of the Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders and London Symphony Orchestra record Promises, a contemporary touchstone when it comes to ambient jazz, before busier passages call to mind the clangour of church bells or some of the standout tracks from Bjƶrk’s intimate classic Vespertine, from the plucked harp strings of ‘Pagan Poetry’ to the customised music box patter and microbeats or glitchtronics of ‘Aurora’, which commences with some crunching underfoot as Bjƶrk sings of ‘treading the glacier head’, to the E. E. Cummings setting ‘Sun In My Mouth’ with its more piquant and pinging celeste.
‘8Ā°C’ is more spacey, with its keys at times almost resembling vampy organ chords, while ’26Ā°C’ begins with a rush of sound as though James were reenacting the ‘Star Gate’ sequence from Stanley Kubrick’s science fiction epic 2001: A Space Odyssey and taking us along for the ride.
Then on ’11Ā°C (Intermittent Rain)’ the engine stalls yet James works through the scrambled signals to pull together trip hop rhythms which are punctuated by shrill baile funk tuin. ‘9Ā°C’ reintroduces those field recordings now with a more rancorous energy, making for a darker and even somewhat harrowing composition which reaches beyond the page, attuned perhaps to some of our political headwinds but at any rate capturing some of the fear and dissonance of our times. The track edges us towards a more somber and searching close to Whatever The Weather II, with ’12Ā°C’ tinged by the bustle of a Parisian train station and tripping witch house aesthetics before James flings open the escape hatch, and stumbles upon sandy beaches, bucolic pastures and more soothing climes, saying ‘It’s so hot, innit?’ over finger drums and the laid-back strums of a guitar.
