Arthur Ashin, AKA Autre Ne Veut, emerged in 2010 with a self-titled instant classic of underground pop: think Prince had he lived alone in a dank tenement block, ranting to himself into the night. Blessed with a truly individual voice – heartfelt crooning with an edge of nasal NYC – Ashin professionalised his sound on two follow-ups, then disappeared for nearly a decade. This return sounds bruised and careful, narrower in its production scope as if mindful of not venturing too far towards the light, or dark.
It’s an album about protecting one’s heart while understanding another’s, full of minor piano chords and soft-edged contemporary R&B – like all the power ballads and moody mid-tempo numbers on a noughties Usher or Omarion album with none of the perky club tracks. Ashin has certainly sacrificed a little of what made his debut so startlingly odd, and his lyrics are fairly prosaic in their telling of love’s discord and harmony. But his sure-footed melodies keep these songs rooted, and sell the feeling of him steadily mining for emotional wisdom.
That melodic strength and simplicity ensures the album reaches peak Magic FM at times. The brilliant World War Pt 3 cries out for a half-shirtless music video in a desert, and Ways I’m Like My Mother for a crowd of gently waving phone-lights. There is fine detailing, too, such as the far-off guitars on Heaven’s for the Living. And closer About to Lose is Ashin’s best song yet, closing with a spectacular massed chorale who utter a brutal paradox of grief: “I don’t want to feel better without you.”