ARRIVING seemingly from nowhere earlier this month, the latest album of James Blake is a thing of ethereal, electronic beauty, but not without its flaws.

Just as you can always identify the artwork of Sir Quentin Blake, who has crafted a beautiful cover for the new album, it's easy to identify the music of James Blake.

Blake's fragile voice and minimalist electronica remains, as with his previous albums, a nice change from more mainstream acts, and when it succeeds, it creates a fragment of sound which will stay in your mind and reappear at the oddest moment.

Throughout, slight elements make greater impact than whole tracks. Whether pitch-shifted background vocals or mechanical wheezing and pinging, there's something that will last; opening track Radio Silence has two or three alone.

Melancholic lyrics and Blake's sombre tones ensure a mood is created and maintained, with clicks and whistles and lonely pianos creating a vast soundscape that almost sounds foggy, especially on Points and Love Me In Whatever Way. In that way, the album is practically a ready-made soundtrack for an artsy black-and-white silent avant-garde film.

Where it may struggle is with repeat listening; there's little here that jumps out as a standout and would draw the listener to return for pleasure, regardless of how beautifully crafted the music is.

In 2013, Blake's album Overgrown beat David Bowie's The Next Day to the Mercury Prize, but while Bowie's work continually shifted and experimented, Blake's work has remained frustratingly similar. It's beautiful, yes, but in need of a jolt of creativity to step out of his comfort zone and try something new.