The Curious Case Of Existence sees the continuation of the project that James Baron began back in lockdown. Best known for his work with electronic legends Crazy P, who have been somewhat legendary on the festival circuit, JIM is Baron’s way of spreading his wings a little and exploring other musical avenues.

His debut as JIM, 2023’s Love Makes Magic, found him exploring a new direction, tapping into American singer-songwriters like Crosby, Stills & Nash for inspiration. The Curious Case Of Existence continues in that spirit, but having been written after the death of his Crazy P cohort Danielle Moore in 2024, it’s a more emotional and personal album than its predecessor. Not that it wallows in sadness and grief. Far from it. In fact, there is a distinct sense of celebration and positivity running alongside the reflective nature of the album.

The funk-laden disco of My Dreams Are Strange insists that you strut confidently, preferably alongside a sun-kissed beach. There’s a distinct West Coast flavour to the album that adds light to the darkness that informed it. The opening track, Keeps Me Warm, is a beautiful folk track, with a quite stunning but clearly emotional vocal from Baron. The gentle percussion, synth swells and choral backing vocals float across the track, providing a kind of calming emotional blanket. It feels like taking stock of life whilst gazing across a stunning desert vista, being cooled by a gentle wind and comforted by a stiff drink. The gentle tropical lilt of Love Over Gold continues in a similar vein, with James’ daughter Edie Baron providing some quite gorgeous vocals.

Chalet Café changes tack a little, with Sleaford Mods‘ Jason Williamson providing a vocal that can’t help but give things an aggressive edge, even when surrounded by West Coast sheen and confident funk. It’s like strolling on a Caribbean beach, all soft, powdery white sand, the warm turquoise water glistening, and then stopping to take a piss up a palm tree.

It doesn’t take too long for things to right themselves, and the gentle melancholy soul of Wires returns to quiet contemplation. Once again, Baron creates a calming space that manages to be both emotionally charged and comforting in equal measure. The piano-led ballad The First Last Dance initially sounds like something that could happily soundtrack the closing sequence of a 1980s American teen drama, but when the vocoder-laden vocals kick in, things spin off in a strange direction. Android teen drama, anyone?

It’s the closing track, Windmills, that really stands out. Written in tribute to Danielle Moore, Baron recalls a road trip he and Moore took together. The pair were driving along a seemingly endless road flanked by hundreds of windmills, with Mary Lattimore‘s version of Cinematic Orchestra‘s Wait For Now on the stereo. Under a blood-red sky, the moment moved them both to tears. That sense of connection really comes through as Windmills plays out. Baron’s emotion is palpable, and it’s a perfect end to the album and a stunning tribute to his friend.