Photo by Robbie Lawrence
In 2024, James Blake announced that he was independent after more than a decade in the major label system. He explains why he tore everything down to start afresh, what he’s learned from the process, and why he’s more excited than ever as he releases his new album 'Trying Times.'
March 18, 2026
BY Alex Gardner
So the other thing about the people that I've surrounded myself with now is that they want to share that information rather than gatekeep it. They work with me rather than isolate me.
On the cover art of Trying Times, James Blake’s seventh album, we see the British singer-songwriter-producer surrounded by plates that are precariously balanced on sticks. He’s leaning forward, hands raised, focused and alert in case anything spins out of control. There’s a lot going on.
When James hops on a video call from London, there’s still a lot going on. It’s the week before an album release, so it’s not surprising that he has his hands full, but as we speak he’s juggling his dogs, an armful of vinyl, and an overzealous taxi driver who's driving too fast and braking too hard. James handles it all with his dry British humor as he jokes about me watching him struggle. This is nothing compared to what he’s been dealing with over the past few years, but it’s almost too perfect a microcosm of James’ experience during this period; as on the nose as the artwork of him herding cats or wearing too many hats.
The spinning plates on the cover are a representation of the multitude of personal, professional, and creative challenges that were an integral part of this album’s two-and-a-half-year process. In 2024, James Blake announced that he was a newly independent artist after more than a decade in the major label system. He had released all his albums within that system and was discouraged by much of the landscape and mechanics of the music industry, not to mention the algorithmic lottery of trying to promote art on social media.
One of the most acclaimed artists of the last 15 years—beloved for his own music as well as his collaborations with artists like Beyoncé, Kendrick Lamar, Rosalía, Frank Ocean, André 3000, and Travis Scott—hit the reset button, hard.
He moved back to London after a decade of living in Los Angeles.
He tried managing himself for a while. “I was on the phone 24/7,” he says.
He used social media to discuss the challenges musicians can face and the solutions he was exploring, in a radically transparent manner for an artist at his level. “I was in the weeds in those comments, man,” he tells me.
He reached breaking point and pushed the record back by a year.
At the same time, James started to slot the right pieces into place. He used the platform Indify to build a team around him that is incentivized to work on the music rather than simply ticking a box. He found an independent label partner, Good Boy Records. He took control of his audience data and forged direct connections with his most loyal fans.
And he stayed busy, working closely with British rapper Dave on The Boy Who Played the Harp and contributing to the Sinners movie soundtrack while crafting his own album in the rural setting of Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios in the British countryside.
With all the noise around everything other than the music, James Blake looked inward to create the songs themselves, referencing the “special magic” of his own 2016 album, The Colour in Anything as a point of inspiration. He worked with longtime collaborators Rob McAndrews and Ben Assiter (staples of his live band setup over the years), Dom Maker, and his partner Jameela Jamil. The result is a free-flowing album that stands up with the best in his catalog.
“As a friend of mine put it, the greatest success would be a calm nervous system,” James tells me. “And if that's what I end this record cycle with, then I would have considered this year an amazing success.”
From the minute details of how he rebuilt his team and how he’s freeing himself from the algorithm, to what makes a perfect love song and his relationship with rap, James Blake is an open book in this new era.
‘Trying Times’ is out now and James Blake’s North America tour starts in May.
A lot has changed for you in the last few years. What has been the most challenging aspect of this phase of your career? And what has given you the most satisfaction?
I think the most challenging aspect has been building a team that makes sense, starting again basically from scratch and assembling a team of people who I feel very safe with and who've taken a mental load off me. I managed myself for a little bit and I spent most of my time on the phone. It was very educational and I'm glad I had that period, but yes, I'm glad it's over.
On the album cover you’re surrounded by all these spinning plates. Is there a rush you get from spinning all the plates yourself? Do you feel in control or do you feel more like the plates are on the edge of falling at all times?
It's positive and negative. There is a part of me that finds it exciting to feel capable enough to balance so many, but it puts me on a knife's edge as to when they're all going to fall about my ears. Honestly, as someone who for many years didn't really feel capable of spinning many at all, after restoring some of my executive function, it was then very difficult not to see how far I could push it. And I have found now how far I can push it and I don't think I need to do that again. As a friend of mine put it, the greatest success would be a calm nervous system. And if that's what I end this record cycle with, then I would have considered this year an amazing success.
How were you feeling while recording this album? Did you have a calm nervous system or was it a more stressful process?
I pushed the record back by a year, so that really took a lot of pressure off. But to get to that point where I pushed it back, I put myself under so much pressure. I think it allowed me to zoom out and then zoom back in and make something like the actual track “Trying Times.” That was made after I pushed the record back and then I felt relaxed enough to channel. It feels very rare that I can channel anything if I'm stressed.
Do you feel freer now with the setup you’ve built outside of the major label system?
I currently feel—and I'm lucky to have this—I currently feel prioritized. I feel creatively free. I feel supported and I feel engaged in a way that I haven't for many, many years. I feel like any success of this album would be a success for a team that I truly love and care for, rather than just a success for me. I feel in touch with every part of my business, and aware, and holding the information I need. That is something that hasn't really happened before. So the other thing about the people that I've surrounded myself with now is that they want to share that information rather than gatekeep it. They work with me rather than isolate me.
Can you tell us in more detail what the team looks like now and how you built it?
Firstly, I have a new manager called Amy Morgan. She also manages Glass Animals. She's been amazing and I think we've approached my music very similarly. She has a real belief in the live experience. She, like me, believes firmly in being a musician; the exciting part is the playing of the music. That’s the cool part!
The thing that I care about the most in terms of being an artist is performing. It's been important to highlight that with this album. We're not really doing narrative driven videos. It's all, let's just watch James do what he does with a great band. When I look back at all the artists I love, my favorite thing is watching them perform.
In terms of the nuts and bolts of it, I met John Zamora from Good Boy Records and we've partnered together in a few different ways. He is brilliant at dealing with sync, and I think sync is a very untapped way for artists to get paid. I think there's a lot of potential in sync for a lot of artists that they might not realize.
But the problem with sync is that when you sign a publishing deal, very often they just sit on your catalog and don't really do anything. Maybe they field some interactions, maybe they field some requests, but they're not really out there pitching, right? Well, John is out there pitching and I think that's a really big deal. He also runs Good Boy, which is the record label. So obviously he's incentivized to do that as well because signed the tunes. So he has been a very big person in my life to meet.
I met him through the Indify system and Shav [Garg] is who got me introduced to that. Indify was where I first understood the idea that equity in music can be how you incentivize [your team], instead of just payrolling people who are going to move on if it doesn't work out. People who are actually incentivized to work on this.
And the other people on the team: Jamie and Tom [collectively Harrison Adair] have been creative directing and have been amazing. Montana Murphy who is my day-to-day. And there's Fifi Holley who works on touring.
It's a balanced group, I feel like we communicate clearly. There's empathy, a good sense of humor about everything. Nobody takes themselves out seriously. I can't speak for them, but for me it's definitely the most momentum I've felt. I think that came from the fact that I was able to choose so carefully rather than really just being assigned to people.
In 2024 going into 2025 you showed people that you were trying new approaches and exploring different ways of reaching your audience. Do you feel like it has been a success and would you encourage other artists experiencing similar pain points to do the same?
Yes. One of the things that I talked about then was a mailing list being the way to take control of your data essentially. I told everyone to go and sign up to the mailing list, and I was also using Vault, which is a platform that actually helps you keep your data—they give you your data and you can just download it.
So when we put on this run of shows in England, they sold out in under a minute. When we put on the US tour, I believe we sold out New York, most of LA, and San Francisco in presale. We didn't even have to put it on the market because the people on the mailing list had already snapped 'em up. So it means that I don't have to rely on the algorithm to sell out shows, and that's the exact thing I was talking about.
So was it a success? Well, yeah, because I'm doing exactly what the system at the time—posting on Instagram and hoping for the best—was prohibiting me from doing, which is accessing people directly, talking to them, giving them updates. Not having to rely on an algorithm and fully giving people early access to everything has changed everything.
And then there's the fact that I have a real community, people I actually see and know. When I come to the shows, it's the same people. I know them by name and we speak after the show. We had a Vault listening party in LA and they’re all there. These are people that I speak to regularly. That's something that I had never had before.
I think we've not just proven that model, we've shown how much connection you can create and how much more meaningful it is when you engage with people in that way rather than through 50 middlemen.
A lot of people loved seeing you be so transparent, but others were also critiquing you and providing feedback and other ideas. What did you think of the conversation?
My critique was of the system itself rather than calling out people for not wanting to pay for music. I don't think it’s a great experience when you click on a new album on a streaming platform. It's not like buying vinyl and putting it on at home or going to a show. I understand the value of having access to all the music ever created, but I don’t know if it sets the music up for success.
Also I never positioned Vault as the solution to all of the music industry’s problems. What I said was that I think it's time that musicians had alternate revenue streams, especially one where they can actually talk to their audience at the same time as giving them music, in real time.
I know there's Patreon, I know there's Bandcamp, I know there's other places you can do independent stuff. But in terms of platforms that are streamlined just for music and for connecting with your audience and for keeping your data, the idea for Vault was the strongest I'd seen.
And I also bigged up Bandcamp. I bigged up Patreon as well. So in terms of criticism, I was in the weeds in those comments, man. I was talking to people, finding out what they felt about things. I was absolutely open to everything people were saying, and I still am.
As you keep building a system that works for you, do you want to take a more direct mentorship or guidance role for other artists? Would you ever start a record label, a new type of music company, or something like that
I'm working on something. It's not a record label, it's not a management company or anything like that, but I am working on something to help with the abject lack of transparency in our industry. And when I'm ready to show people what that is, then you'll know about it.
[James Blake gets out of the car with his dog leash in one hand, vinyl in the other, phone balanced somewhere. I enjoy the momentary view of the grey sky overhead and looming sides of apartment buildings, and offer to switch to audio only.]
That's all right. You can see me struggling! I'm just going to sit on this bench.
I'd love to hear about the lead single “Death of Love” and the Leonard Cohen sample or interpolation. Did you build the song around that and how did that song come to life?
So that song started with me making a beat for Dave, and it ended up being the basis for “Death of Love.” He was asleep as I was making it and I thought when he woke up, I'd play it to him and then he'll be inspired to rap on it. Then a bunch of other people turned up and we ended up just chatting. So the beat kind of just sat on the hard drive for a bit, and then I stole it! I believe there's a version floating around with Dave's vocals on it somewhere. I think he did do something, but I forgot to make sure he hadn't before I actually used it myself.
What was the timeline of working on the Dave album and working on your own record?
It was happening concurrently, really. It was one of the plates that I was spinning. Around that time we did “Doesn't Just Happen,” but I always felt like that was going to be on my album, and “History,” which I knew as soon as I'd done it was for Dave.
You've worked with Dave on multiple projects at this point. From your point of view, what makes him such a special, generational, incredible artist?
I think he has a pen that he manages to go so deep that lines hit you later, or they hit you as the next bar is coming in. They're so potent. It's very rare, I think, that somebody thinks as deeply as David thinks. He has the range of being able to rap on something that's just fun like “Thiago Silva” or “Sprinter.” He's got that side to him, but then he can also absolutely devastate you with his writing, songs like “Three Rivers.”
It’s also his beat selection, what he chooses to rap on too. He's very, very selective and he's very specific about what he wants. He's the overarching producer of everything he does. So even when I'm working with him, ultimately he knows what he wants and he makes the changes. Then when he makes his own beats, you're like, oh shit, the beats are crazy as well! He played me “175 Months,” that he made the beat on, and I was like, oh God, you should be doing this more often.
You've had a long history with working with rappers. Is that a world you're always staying up to date with and trying to stay plugged into?
I'm just a huge fan. Some major influences of mine, that I’ve gone into before, are rappers, like André [3000]. I think that connection has always formed through meeting people, having friendships that turned to collaboration, and people asking me to try something on a song. I love collaborating and I'm a lifetime rap fan. I've been lucky enough to work with some of the greatest, and I put Dave up there.
Reflecting on your album’s title track on Instagram, you wrote “love is ultimately the center of everything.” That also seems like a thesis for the album in whole. Is that something you have started to feel recently, or is that a long held conviction?
There are some songs that I go on stage and think I could sing this forever. Those are usually some kind of love song or rooted in a very pure expression. Something like “You’re Too Precious,” for example, which is really quite simple and just sounds so pure. There’s no overthinking.
I can tell when I've switched my brain off and I'm just kind of floating, and on Trying Times I'm just floating. There's no overthinking at all. I was in flow.
Off the top of your head, what are some of your favorite love songs and what makes a great love song?
“Try a Little Tenderness” by Otis Redding. I think love songs with a twist have always been my favorite. Not only expressions of “I love you.” Trying a little tenderness is such a beautiful idea for a song.
And then “You and I” by Stevie Wonder, that's very pure. That kind of is just, “I love you,” but it's that we're really going to take on the world together. A bit cheesy depending on who you play it to, but I think it's just stunning. The way he sings it, it's like Stevie could never, really never be cheesy to me.
You described The Colour in Anything as your favorite record in your catalog, because it’s “so very personal and true.” I think a lot of people connect with the emotion in your music and think that all your records feel like that. What is it about that record in particular that stands out to you?
I mean, they're all true. All my records are authentic to their time. It's just technicolor, that one. The Color in Anything has a special magic to it that I find hard to quantify really. “Choose Me” is just completely reckless as a song, which I love. “Waves Know Shores” has got a little bit of that sparkle to it that I find really hard to put into words, but it feels a bit magical to me. I love the sentiment of “Meet You in the Maze” and I love the message it sends, like music can't be everything.
I got to the end of that record and really had completely exhausted myself. But on the way I think I made some of my favorite music that I've ever made. Even “I Hope My Life,” which at the time I felt like might be a skip, now I actually play it in DJ sets. I feel like that tune was ahead of my own taste in a way. “Radio Silence” is a vibe I can't quantify and I wouldn't be able to recreate it.
To end on Trying Times, can you identify what it was that allowed you to get into that mindset or tap into that flow state for this record?
Well, partly it's the group of people I had around me. Partly it's because I was so intent on recording in places that felt spiritually profound. I didn't record in any locations that didn't feel like they had their own magic, so it felt like as soon as I was there, something was already flowing and it felt easy. The making of the music on this record was actually the easiest part.
Photo by Harrison & Adair