With the spatial grandeur of his native Atlantic coast and the cinematic minimalism of a classic ECM recording, youthful London piano bard Douglas Dare delivers his striking debut LP, Whelm. Growing up in the coastal Dorset town of Bridport, Dare learned to play music from his piano teacher mother while absorbing the pastoral richness of the geography from his farmer father. Fed on classical music, but drawn to artists like Radiohead, Rufus Wainwright, and PJ Harvey, he has taken an interesting path with his music, blending a spare avant-garde aesthetic with dark but often melodic songwriting. The sounds he introduced with 2013's four-song EP Seven Hours were thoughtful and patient, taking their time to develop, yet ultimately engaging the listener. Released a mere eight months later, Whelm expands upon his themes of history, nature's severity, love, and loss, all sung in an intimate and richly tuneful voice. The arrangements are complex and smart, but not unapproachable, as his piano is joined by the distinctive abstract percussion parts of producer and collaborator Fabian Prynn. Occasionally, glitchy electronic elements are introduced, like on the bleak, difficult "Unrest" and the desperate "Swim," though even then, his piano remains focused in the mix. He is at his best on slightly more tuneful ballads like "Caroline" and the beautiful closer "London's Rose," but even the more challenging tracks will reward the patient listener with their clever structure and surprising moments of melodic clarity. It's a careful and moody album, but fortunately, Dare has the grace to pull off his sonic and lyrical meanderings without devolving too deeply into self-conscious philosophizing or experimentation for its own sake, showing that he has both content and mystique to spare.