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In the deepest darkest depths of pretentiously anonymous 'hype' acts and precocious inexperienced 15-year-olds with identikits, Paul White emerges as a cleansing antidote. The man behind the purest moments of Danny Brown's 'Old' was, until recently, a library music producer for Channel 4 and the BBC. Since then, Diplo has become his 'biggest fan', he's formed bezzy mates with Madlib and has now signed to the uber-hip former home of James Blake, R&S Records.

A self-confessed pathological record collector and almost impossibly prolific producer, Paul has been hiding behind the mixing desk on a plethora of obscure hip-hop releases since 2008 (just check Bandcamp for a taste). He's been happy to take a back seat and revel in remarkable production credits, perhaps out of humility or shyness - but enter Shaker Notes and a new era of Mr. White has dawned.

Undoubtedly his most honest, naked and diverse release to date, the fact that it's taken until his fourth solo LP to get his face on the cover speaks volumes of how personal it is. Recording almost every individual instrument on Shaker Notes himself, it also uses his own voice and lyrics. 'Honey Cats' for example feels like a reimagined Cramps number over which a desperate, repeated mantra is ominously chanted.

You can feel this proximity to his diverse personality in every idiosyncratic corner. The extrovert playfulness in 'Fighting To Dance' is where the Mighty Boosh meets Fela Kuti - but the detail in recording every sharp, prominent intake of breath while fluting on the exquisite 'All We Are' demonstrates his artistic neuroticism. No longer overshadowed by rappers or esoteric vinyl cuts, you're allowed side by side the puppet master who's able to visit musical pastures new instead of being constrained by the boundaries of 'alt. hip-hop'.

Whether it's the R&B tinged lead single 'Where You Gonna Go', the not-so-cursory nod to Aphex Twin on 'Numbers Of Change' or the forlorn longing in 'Is It Up To Us' - there's a certain emotional edge that resonates through the collection. Some would have you believe it's something to do with his relation to Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, which though remarkable, is unlikely important. It's just something refreshing from a man previously making music which "owes as much to guitarists dressed as wizards...as it does to turntables" according to The Fader.

Of course there are times when incessant loops and irregular song structures can become tiresome and it sometimes struggles to overcome that trap. Certainly some tracks could use grounding and a smidgeon of common substance to prevent a stupefying hypnosis - but in many ways that's the appeal. It's the level of autonomy achieved from dropping the samples and dropping the features which ultimately drops the trousers on the real Paul White - and that's what makes Shaker Notes so enjoyable.

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