Every year we have these silly awards ceremonies, of which the headline-seeking, self-satisfying, industry piss-up that is the Nationwide Mercury Music Prize is regarded as the most respectable. There is always speculation by the mass media on who are the most deserving on the list, e.g. Fionn Regan in 2007.

It is fair to say that the shortlist never actually represents the best albums of the year, but rather three or four good records padded out by the obligatory jazz, dance, hip hop and so on. It appears to me that Maps (aka James Chapman) sits somewhat uncomfortably in the middle, not being the sell-out that the Klaxons are; the media monster that Amy Winehouse is; or the honest and raw beauty that is Mr Regan. Now the big question is whether or not Maps is filla or killa.

I admit it took me a good few listens to find what it was I liked about this album, and I do like it. It has a feeling of grandness about it, and from the first few chords of opener ‘So Low, So High’ it’s apparent that this is going to be an epic journey. Vocally the album is not as accomplished as it is musically and the songs deserve to be delivered with more natural passion and oomph than Chapman seems able to deliver. It is hidden beneath layers of echo and effects to give the vocals a very Ian Brown styling without ever quite hitting the engaging arrogance that Brown can produce. The music, which is the undoubted star of the show does a great job of creating a seamless blend of Britpop guitars, trance keyboards and eighties synths. The result is like a Vangelis soundtrack being assaulted by the Stone Roses. This is a bedroom solo album, but with a little co-production from Valgeir Sigurdsson which embraces the styles of other one-man music factories such as the ambience of Aphex Twin, the energy of Squarepusher, and the immediacy of Aqualung. Stand-out tracks are ‘Eloise’ and the excellent ‘It Will Find You’, of which the latter very nearly overtakes itself towards the end as it comes to its climax, but just restrains the ensemble enough to maintain clarity. I think the key to this record is that it sounds like a lot of other things, but still manages to stand on its own as a distinctive piece of work.

In conclusion, it probably deserves nomination, although it’s not in the same league as Regan or Winehouse, but certainly a hell of a lot more deserving of the award than the Klaxons atrocious winning effort.

3.5/5