You might have heard a fair bit about the new kid on the dubstep block. His name is James Blake and he’s the one with that really blurry album cover that makes you feel a bit like you’re drunk. But on to the important facts: 22-year-old Blake landed second place on the BBC’s Sound of 2011 list and this week sees the release of his eponymous debut album.

Using dubstep as a guideline, Blake flirts with a number of musical genres throughout, making his overall sound a very difficult thing to define - always a good indicator.

Wilhelm Scream, named after that Hollywood effect, doesn’t start off as ominously as you might expect and is an early treat. From the outset, Blake admits to uncertainty: ‘I don’t know about my dreaming anymore / all that I know is I’m falin’, fallin’, fallin’, fallin’,’ he sings, to a minimal backing that exposes a quite beautiful voice, reflecting the vulnerability suggested in his powerful vocal. A heavy, more frequent base-line is later introduced as the track veers into electronic territory - a common theme in the album - and simultaneously becomes much deeper sounding.

And we don’t even mean that on a metaphorical level. As soon as an organ joins the arrangement, it feels as though Blake is pressing down on all of the keys together like an impatient child, while it sinks further and further underwater. All while someone bangs a drum in some faraway cave. Really.

I Never Learnt To Share, however, fares a little worse on the Studentbeans.com Good-O-Meter. If only Blake didn’t sing the same 14 words approximately 100 BILLION times and if only he penned just one other line to pad out those lovely harmonies. The lyrical repetition is enough to drive you mad and unfortunately enough this is also the longest track on the album, at almost five painstaking minutes. We only reached the final note once out of pure curiosity, wondering whether or not Blake breaks into an amazing new verse but alas, he doesn’t. Lesson learnt.

The album picks up again during a cover of Feist’s Limit To Your Love. It’s a more pared back take on the original and the pulsing bass which starts at about a minute in works as an unexpected complement to the simple piano chords that shape the song.

By mixing dubstep with hints of gospel influences (Measurements); funky, Caribbean-style rhythms (I Mind); and pure balladry (Give Me My Month), Blake manages to create a new and futuristic sound which - like Mercury Prize winners  The XX - aims to benefit from the gaps in the music as much as the music itself.

To a certain extent, this works, with pauses between verses building up tension, amplified by the thumping bass that normally follows. On occasions however, Blake risks losing the unpredictable sense of atmosphere and loneliness that these silences create, giving tracks an overriding feeling of just, well, emptiness.

James Blake is by no means an easy listen but it is certainly an album that deserves persistence. Thoughtful and moody, this one is best suited to a 3am chill-out session. But all you Minimalism haters might want to steer clear...