When Jamie xx played Coachella, people danced. Maybe that shouldn't be surprising; Jamie xx is, at least on the face of it, a famous dance music producer who made a Drake/Rihanna hit once. But Jamie xx makes wallflower music, and a festival like Coachella is not traditionally kind to people who make wallflower music. The dancing wasn't the exuberant hands-in-the-air stuff that was happening a couple of tents over, where DJs like David Guetta spent the weekend entertaining party people who had presumably just come to hang out at that tent all weekend. But Jamie still had an aircraft-hanger-sized tent packed full of people, something virtually none of the guitar-rock bands playing the festival that weekend could claim. And those people were moving. Considering that Jamie xx's whole live show was a DJ set of blinking, impressionistic, not-exactly-beat-driven electronic music, that's a feat. Other dance-music types who played the festival had famous guests, or crazy light shows, or actual dancers up onstage. Jamie just had himself, standing behind some electronic widgets and playing these thoughtful, murmuring instrumental tracks, and it was still enough to get a few thousand people moving. If you've ever seen, say, Four Tet play a festival, you know that this is not a given. There's a whole universe of people who make splintered, cerebral dance music and who do live shows staring at laptops while people sit around trying to appreciate it. And on the face of it, Jamie xx should fit very much into that world. But there's something friendly and inviting about the music that he makes, something that allows quiet and insular music to translate on a wider scale. And now he's made an album of spectral electronic minimalism that's going to end up soundtracking a whole lot of people's summers, almost entirely because of how fucking good it is. He's a special talent, and this is a special record.