Who, exactly, is behind Faws? We all love a bit of mystery, like that silent kid sitting down the back of the class is always much more intriguing than the exhibitionist.

Last December, the ‘Antonym EP’ appeared as if from nowhere, gaining favourable hype and well deserved it was. The collection included rich textures of anything from creaking floorboards, snarling grates, and disorientating vocal samples with a sprinkle of ambient house in disguise. Faws doesn’t need a persona, to use a cliché—the music speaks for itself, even if the language is a little hard to decipher.

‘Blue Notes’ is absorbing and fun in a self-indulgent kind of way. It picks up the pace from Antonym, maintaining the rough edges but attempting to sand them down with more urgency. Beats are so intricate and arbitrary, it’s as if Faws walks around recording everything on a phone in order to eventually sample it—from the sound of the wind to something as minor as the rolling of a coin.

For example, opener Fuck It sounds suspiciously like a heavy-load truck pulling up, or the final hum you’d hear while playing in traffic. Street sounds, clinks and thuds create a wall of peaceful urban air, with the crackling of speakers shadowing lowly ambient Air-esque beats. Repetitive deep vocal samples roll out ‘OK’ and ‘fuck it’ in a one-sided conversation from a man we know little about. Delicate chimes and smashing glass bring a sinister characteristic to the man’s voice, as if he’s planning a hit or something equally as menacing.

The crackling percussion of To Look Inside blends perfectly into the preceding track. Feral wildlife beats run steady like a siren, while My Funny Valentine is meticulously sampled. It’s drained of all love, a drab and morose ambience lowering the upbeat r’n’b influences to transform a jazzy show-tune into a nocturnal cocktail of crafty dips and highs.

Samples are plentiful here, but they’re used sparingly enough to be an enhancement rather than a crutch. Whitney uses haunting vocals from It’s Not Right, But It’s OK, disguised with shallow synths and blunt, damp chimes. They’re more ‘bottle cap on pavement’ than bellowing clock tower, but the atmosphere is just as hitting. Like playing a dusty vinyl found in your Grandparent’s attic, Whitney is a crackling slow burner—sounding like it’s literally burning—as a rough piece of paper is engulfed by an orange flame. Faws genius lies in the atmosphere, the samples are just there to break things up. They’re up there with Burial, Balam Acab, or even James Blake minus the singing. Sure there are vocals, but they come in the form of Jessie Ware-esque tones, splayed in the echoes of For Those Who Try or Hummingbird.

Like finger-clicking while getting punched at the same time, Hummingbird’s poignant beats are overlaid with shuffles throughout. At first, a distant vocal haunts the background as if coming from down the hall, but later bursts into a full dub-centric ballad. The perfect accompaniment to the blue glow of a cold early morning—it’s a dreamlike requiem of that night you probably wish you weren’t awake for.

Blue Notes is a perfect electronic EP, textually facilitating, with each song creating a completely different circumstance and ambience to one another. Being otherworldly, it’s probably not for those who like their guitars heavy and lyrics pelting. Electronic music relies on the beat to conjure a mood or image, throwing lyrics by the wayside. Faws does a perfect job of streaming a whole vintage film reel in your head, shit sound-quality and all. It’s all part of the experience.

Whoever Faws may be, they might want to step out now that the lights are up and take a bow.