Musical wonderboy James Blake–one part magician, one part divinity-made-flesh–poked fun at the venue for his show last night at Terminal 5, referring to it as a “cavernous hole.” But as Blake pointed out, it’s a cavernous hole with acoustics uniquely suited to his trademark sound; never has our long-legged hero been heard so loud and clear. It’s always a special evening when Prince Blake is in the house, last night’s affair recreated gravity (like the actual act of gravity being created), the sort of gale-force-winded state of suspension concocted in our boy’s “Wilhelm Scream” vid. If I were to have stifled a few tears (which I wouldn’t), well, this moment of Blake caught on camera phone–transforming himself through technology into a spooky gospel choir to fill the towering Terminal–would have been the trigger. Sir James came through with an encore, but on the condition of total lack of participation from our WOOO!ing souls –for if the precisely looped rendition of “Measurements” were to reach its trance-inducing potential, it would require complete silence from the crowd. And thus NYC came to a complete hush on the high of a James Blake spell.