Album Review: The Theory of Whatever by Jamie T

Unpretentious has always been the way to characterise Jamie T reays as an artist and as a performer, but The Theory of Whatever does a stellar job of reminding us that as no-fuss as he is, he's still an artist and at the absolute core of it all, a storyteller. And the Theory of Whatever feels like one of the first times he's really told his own story rather than turning the pen to abstract narratives. In seven years of no new Jamie T - but numerous nights spent in grubby indie bars and clubs - it's been very easy to forget that "Sheila" is a strikingly written series of painstaking vignettes and not just five minutes of time you spend trying not to get groped or have a pint spilled down you.

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Back after a six year gap, much of the Wimbledon singer songwriter’s fifth album is on a par with his best work The heady days of the late 2000s seem like a long time ago now – a world of snakebite and black, Arctic Monkeys songs about pub fights and taxis home, and gigs seemingly frequented by lads disposing of their tops and throwing their beer in the air. For a while, it seemed as if Jamie Treays had joined the rest of his contemporaries from that particular era. There aren’t too many survivors from that era, with bands like Klaxons and The Rakes disappearing and others like The Libertines or The Streets hopping on the festival nostalgia circuit.

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Jamie T retains a gravitas that few of his peers can match. Forget social media driven nostalgia trends like 'indie sleaze' , this Wimbledon bard's wonky teeth speak only the truth – and that gives his discography, slim though it may be, an added edge. His first new album in six years, 'The Theory Of Whatever' is burdened by memories of the past, by the formative experiences of those searing gigs, and vital concerts.

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