Jamie T

Though Mike Skinner’s losing his touch with the Streets, there’s no denying he’s to credit for the rise of DIY bedroom projects in England over the last while. From Kate Nash to Tom Vek, the English seem to cultivate a new talent each week. Wimbledon’s Jamie T (surname Treays) is easily the best of these since Lily Allen’s emergence and arguably, is even better; his imagination for storytelling is only eclipsed by his skills to pull it off on his own. Only 21 years of age, his debut album, Panic Prevention, is currently up for the Mercury Prize. With the exception of three songs, Treays wrote and performed the entire album, which is no small feat considering how untrained the man apparently is. Like the mixtapes he busies himself making, Panic is an assorted bag, trying its hand at everything from smarmy ska and amateurish hip-hop to skuzzy Libertines pop and daft drum & bass, all packed to the gills with a cracked-voice charm. Jamie T’s best weapon, however, is his ability to portray a brash, but likeable, smartarse while delivering melody laced poetry. The hyperactive “Pacemaker” details the hedonistic homecoming of a soldier from Iraq, whereas “Sheila” wraps a tear-jerking tale about addiction into a wad of affable trip-pop. The product of thrift shop samplers, beaten up guitars and, most likely, plenty of Strongbow, Panic Prevention picks up nicely where Allen’s Alright, Still left off. Her fans can’t go wrong taking a chance on Jamie T, her superior and even saucier male counterpart.