Tag: Neo-Soul

Silk Sonic – An Evening With Silk Sonic: Review

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What starts as the ambition to make the people groove on two feet as the production’s glossy rhythm infectiously manipulates the neurons in their brain became a little more profound, fun, and nuanced for Silk Sonic: the new super duo, consisting of Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars. The two have been known for the electrifying R&B-Soul infusions that expand its limits by balancing it out with a modern flair – Anderson did so with Malibu and Ventura, and Bruno Mars for most of his career. And uniting for An Evening with Silk Sonic, they deliver just that. This collaboration offers a quick, whirlwind experience that paces itself swiftly for a predominantly up-tempo album.

Riding the coattails of the summer smash and bed rocking, “Leave the Door Open,” the expectations were high for the duo, to only be boosted by the inclusion of Bootsy Collins MCing the album/performances. The song heightens the strengths of both artists, and if most of what we were to get mirrored that, then it would be a great album. And most songs do, like the eloquent and swagger-filled “Fly As Me,” which sees Anderson back to his smooth and smile-inducing rhythm and flows that sometimes feel like a fever-dream when he delivers. Parallel to it comes many, like “Smoking Out The Window,” which cements Bruno Mar’s effervescent presence as he leads another song.

For Anderson .Paak and his adlibs – they don’t hit the landing as frequently as his rapping and drum playing on An Evening with Silk Sonic. But his presence is pivotal in blending in a nuanced cool vibe – a kind that has you rocking the flashiest bell-bottoms with a loose and colorful button-down. Most of the time, it is the Bruno Mars show, and his presence has an elegance, especially in the backing vocals – in contrast to Paak and his. It’s subtle, barely making a dent in the quality of the song, which goes to show the skill of these artists, who can keep the fluidity despite hiccups.

The chemistry between the two is seamless – each song has the kind of synergy that gets you feeling lifted and one with your body, but it focuses on a heavy-set mood that can’t play at any given moment. It embodies more than just your standard, hyper-set, and linear models where themes align to tell a big picture; it personifies the locomotive engine in your legs that moves without proper nerve functions. You can attribute it to the dynamic palette like a shimmy-two step, slow dance grooves, and swaggalicious percussion rhythms that you can’t help but get lost within the 32-minute album. Unfortunately, it doesn’t feel like 32 minutes. Once it ends, it may send you trekking into older music or keeping An Evening With Silk Sonic on repeat. 

However, An Evening With Silk Sonic flying by swiftly made me feel like I didn’t truly hear the songs in-between “After Last Night” and “777.” It took continuous listens for the unique productions to shine and differentiate themselves amongst the rest. Though a part of me feels the awe-inducing production, lyrics, and vocal performances on “After Last Night” left a heavy impression. It’s the only song to contain credited features – Bassist Thundercat and the Mack Daddy of Bassists, Bootsy Collins – to perform backing vocals. Thundercat’s inclusion is subtle, but it adds to the beautiful reverb in the chorus, while Bootsy continues to MC on this journey – mixing that with the funkadelic and bass-heavy production is what kept that delightful ring in the ear.

But it’s more than just his captivating voice that brought about a constant return for me to these songs in between the previously mentioned. “Smoking Out The Window” is a powerhouse performance that sees Mars carrying, as Paak delivers a forgettable verse. “Put On A Smile” is crooning at its finest, with the contrasting pitches shining over the more subdued production, but if I were to select a weak link, it is this song, as it doesn’t hold steady weight, compared to the others that keep a specific groove stuck in my mind – simply it feels like a stoppage gap where the music slows back down a little.

For “Smoking Out The Window,” it’s easy to gloss over Anderson Paak’s verse, considering Paak shines almost everywhere else like on “Silk Sonic Intro” as he establishes the riotous energy that will slowly peak after “Leave The Door Open.” The grooves come like a rollercoaster – a prominently effective one – it’s fun with individual highlights, but some moments keep you on heavily focused, especially the final song. “Blast Off” sends off the album on a high note with soulful and spacey sonic symmetry that you feel like it is sending you into space. And it’s a feeling that becomes more and more resonant with countless listens. From these listens, you start to marvel at the craftsmanship between both artists, especially when they are hitting a peak in greatness.

An Evening With Silk Sonic reaches its goal, despite being less than perfect. It is hypnotic and transfixing as your body sways to the rhythm, unaware that the two-step and gyration is just part of feeling the effervescent vibe throughout. But as you connect to it closer, the more it becomes part of your mood-dancing mix – this includes you cool cats out there, sippin’ bourbon neat, and smoking cigarettes before the dance floor utters the first letter of your name. If only An Evening With Silk Sonic was longer, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Rating: 8 out of 10.

Joy Crookes – Skin: Review

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Making comparisons can wane any influence someone can have on an artist before exploring their music. To put it mildly — a comparison hit me when I first played Joy Crookes. It was the feeling from listening to the Amy Winehouse album Frank for the first time. And as little as this comparison weighs, on her artistry, I couldn’t help but become enamored with Joy’s vocal performances, as it beautifully layers over elegant soul-centric production — sprinkling a touch of Jazz and R&B undertones. Joy Crookes’ vocal range and delivery carry a simple nuance to Amy’s traditionalist style while standing firmly on two feet. Listening to her debut, Skin, Joy Crookes steps up to the mount, pitching change-ups in between a few curveballs, giving us a wide range of music that made me feel like I was listening to Frank (2003) for the first time, again.

When I listened to Skin for the first time, I had to stop before returning due to the chills that ran down my spine from the vocal nuances. It takes me back to the late 2000s where I first listened to Frank, and the reverb on the backing vocals gave it new dimensions we’ve yet to see in modern traditionalist vocal pop-jazz. You felt Amy Winehouse’s pain, desires, hope, and at times, fun promiscuity with her vocal inflections. With Joy Crookes, it is the same as Skin takes you through various turns in her life, singing about themes about family and identity as she lets loose emotions reflective of the context. However, one specific performance took me back; on “Feet Don’t Fail Me Now,” her melody switches between the pop, soul, and jazz aspects. It’s similar to “Take the Box” off Frank. 

Skin opens with two songs rooted in identity, flipping in style from the somber “I Don’t Mind” to the unrestrained “19th Floor.” The former focuses on an ex-relationship — predominantly on the sex — Joy Crookes delivers her vocal performance with a reflexive and uplifting manner that contains some nuances of empowerment. It deals with her controlling her body and the situation by constantly reminding the lad that she will leave if he garners any feelings. With the kind of dynamics looming over society, like having the nuclear family or stability, Joy is trailblazing. She makes it okay to have more ownership and to have this different dynamic without feeling external pressure. 

“19th Floor” tackles identity through visceral metaphors and allusions to her life growing up in South London and reflecting the differences between her and her mother and grandmother’s life before immigrating to London. In the song, she revisits her hometown, where she was born, reflecting on far she has gone since — making allusions to immigrants who yearn and achieve success, only to reminisce about memories of the past, good and bad. As she sings: “Nothing same but nothing different/Hear the people cry concrete lullabies/I never thought I’d say I miss it” — you’re nostalgia inducers are hit. You miss the consistencies. And for Joy, she starts to feel more rooted in her mother’s side, using histrionics to put herself in her grandmother’s shoes — noting in the bridge: “Bopping down Walworth Road, bubblegum blow/Sliders and Sunday clothes/Doing like my Nani, 70s steez”: she is feeling herself and more connected. She may have doubts, but taking her mind back to and summoning their energy adds positive brevity. 

Joy Crookes has a vocal range that plateaus most singers these days, allowing ease when switching between neo-soul/jazz style vocalizations/production and more traditionally produced/performed songs. She establishes a fine line between the two, leaving room to explore with modern tweaks from producer Blue May, whose fingers predominately touch and mix keynotes of the production. And as evident with the first two songs, it feels more natural. 

Blue May, amongst others, sprinkles elegant touches of operatic and choral strings that vibrate and give off effervescent sounds that keep you engaged as Joy Crookes bares her soul into some of the themes of Skin. It makes Skin akin to albums like To Pimp A Butterfly by Kendrick Lamar or What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye, where the focus was to ride powerful themes instead of focusing on whether or not the next record will do gangbusters. Few songs on Skin make me feel like the aesthetic focused on finding its way onto radio, with “Trouble” being something similar to “Alright,” where the song’s rooted in being anti-pop in sound. Similarly, it’s reflective with “Wild Jasmine,” as she speaks to her alter-ego and steers her from other trouble in the form of a manipulative male who is with you for the skin and not what comes with it. It has a poppy-soul and fluid production that shifts to melancholy and back. Though the subtleties allow for an easier transition — from the flourished and catchy chorus performances to the intricate songwriting of the verses — Joy can transfix you on every front. 

It isn’t the only time she teeters around these kinds of soundscapes, giving the same treatment to “Kingdom” that she did with “Trouble.” It’s catchy and filled to the brim with vibrant jazz percussion that makes you want to find your groove within the pack of songs that elevates her vocal performance to a different level than the piano ballads. The title song, “Skin,” centers on mental health and keying in on ideas like suicide and depression. Joy asks herself a simple question, What if you decide that you don’t wanna wake up, too? It comes over an eloquent piano-centric production that keys in at tugging the core of your emotions — Skin has me against the ropes, delivering jabs of unique songs — jabs that repeat, something new about it hits me, specifically, “Feet Don’t Fail Me Now.” 

Skin is unreal. It left me juggling many emotions while leaving me in awe of the varying performances and styles by Joy Crookes and her producers. However, any minor problems with the album come from “Skin” having a wrought (song-type) but effective delivery and “Power” being a little bit forgettable at first. But that doesn’t stop me from finding pure joy and admiration from her talent and focus in her phenomenal debut, as I know you might when listening to Skins.

Rating: 9 out of 10.

Yebba – Dawn: Review

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It may not be apparent, but Yebba has been around — quietly delivering elegant performances through different genres of music; however, many know her as the female vocalist on “Same Drugs” by Chance the Rapper — when he performed on Saturday Night Live. I’ve gotten to know her work by burrowing through a landscape decorated with a history of appearing in songs in Hip-Hop, Pop, Funk, Soul, Folk, Rock, and more. Having worked with artists like A Tribe Called Quest, Mark Ronson, and Mumford & Sons since 2016 has given her a clearer slate to draw on as she finds her sound and individualizes herself from contemporaries. Her debut, Dawn, speaks to that as Yebba delivers sweet flavorings to the songs, which range in style — most of which are unique to Yebba, except for few moments that get lost when going grandiose.

Unlike some or many, you find yourself coming into Dawn blind. But like many, I’ve been aware of Yebba’s guest appearances and features; however, what comes to light in Dawn is sometimes unlike what we’ve heard before. Whether Yebba is delivering softened background vocals that compliment the lead artist or as a vibrant lead on Mark Ronson’s Late Night Feelings, Yebba finds ways to distinguish herself from others — further asking the light to center on her presence in front of, and behind, the microphone. She makes it apparent on Dawn as she paints her slate with the influence of sounds from the vast array of genres of her past; she hits the nail more often than not.

Yebba heightens her emotions to give each song brevity — this allows the music to stay direct for better playback. She lets the influence guide the pen, letting loose unique themes like emotional growth. In 2017, a week after Yebba released her first single, her mother, unfortunately, passed after struggling with depression. It’s been a driving force behind Yebba’s fearlessness in her vocal performances, but it has been a hindrance as it seems like she is always performing in front of a silhouette of her mother. 

Yebba opens Dawn with a plea to herself — how many more years? She is continuously distraught that she hasn’t been able to keep happy memories without leading toward tears of sadness that constantly blinds her future. It could come from some hesitancy that guides any hiccups from grasping your emotions tightly, which shows on each song. But on “How Many More Years,” it is something else. Listening to Yebba’s soft and broken vocals gives us a sense that she grasps her emotions firmly, delivering them in doses to keep us invested. She does so without draining us to our core, though “October Sky” came close. 

As one of the most beautifully captivating and tragic songs on Dawn, “October Sky” takes us through a recurring and happy memory she has of her mom. As it is with most of the album, Yebba adopts lingering feelings and notions about her heartbreak, despite knowing this is the start of something great. She embraces her moment and finds ways to show us her vulnerable side.

Yebba lets her voice guide us through her emotions, providing a deep meaning beneath, a sometimes thin, surface. Usually, it starts to be the case on Dawn, as some of the production weaves thin simplicities within the percussion. It initially feels off-putting since Yebba received help from producers like Kaytranada, the Picard Brothers, and Mark Ronson, but the small details make up for it. Despite being known for their electric percussion, it’s one of the weaker components in the album; however, it never gets to a point where it makes the whole production yawn-inducing.

Fortunately, Yebba and her co-producers start world-building on top of the songs, which deliver some glamorous standouts like “Boomerang.” It takes influence from the roots of old-country and folk — breaking apart styles derivative of cowboy-western country dinghies, roots rock, and an effervescently soulful vocal performance, “Boomerang” elevates into it. Similar to “Boomerang,” Yebba brings a similar cadence on “Louie Bag” featuring Smino.

Subtly, “Louie Bag” is like many songs on Dawn, wherein the influence comes from subsections of the musical south, from Hip-Hop to Folk-Country. “Louie Bag” has string and piano key arrangements focusing on Yebba’s verses, while the percussion emboldens a simple hip-hop beat, allowing for a smooth blend in this ode to their youths in their respective cities. It creates a smooth unification of the two, as we hear them performing while in their A-Game. In the song, They burn bridges that have been vandalized on each journey to succeed in their work. Smino’s verse contains more gravitas, as opposed to A$AP Rocky — the other featured rapper. His presence on “Far Away” is from someone standing afar from the living room window.

Fortunately, through captivating performances, Yebba is placing us in her shoes. Most times, you’re taken through the wringer as she lays out what passes her subconscious in these times. And intermittently, with songs like “Louie Bag” and “Far Away,” Yebba distinguishes herself in pop, barely straying from the overall construct of the sound. It’s reflective of Yebba’s trajectory as an artist, with Dawn acting as a stepping stone in showing us her true self. She assimilates into these different types of production that I’m wondering what’s in store as she continues to explore and grow as an artist. If you’re into an enjoyably emotional listen, you’ll leave this album wanting more of Yebba soon.

Rating: 7.5 out of 10.

Lion Babe – Rainbow Child: Review

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Imagine the most trivial roller coaster you have ever ridden, and now imagine having to ride it consistently, knowing that the few bright spots aren’t always everlasting. That has been the ride Lion Babe fans have been on since their major-label debut, Begin. The songs that stood out were ones that have been released prior, like “Jump Hi” featuring Childish Gambino. On their follow-up, Cosmic Wind, we received an eclectic array of soul/R&B and funk hybrids that felt authentic to their artistry. Unfortunately, we’re back at the dull moments of that roller coaster ride as their new album, Rainbow Child, has pacing that can beat a hare in a race. 

Cosmic Wind is the epitome of the phrase: breath of fresh air. Begin is forgettable and clunky and lacking balance in appeal. They were limited by the label to make the album marketable, as the closest thing to marketability, on the surface, is the fact that Jillian Hervey is Vanessa Williams’ daughter. Set that aside. She didn’t rely on nepotism to make a name for herself, as she hustled with her producer, Lucas Goodman, to grow organically. Her vocal range and performances speak for themselves, as it allows her to experiment with various sounds. Rainbow Child takes a step back from this, as the production dwindles into the realm of simplicity – this is where they focus on more detail and less extensive. 

Lion Babe is known for keeping features to a minimum, and this has let them find perfect pairings that translate over. On the opening song, “Rainbows,” Jillian Hervey’s performance carries expressive range, from the high pitch chorus to the smooth melody of the verses, the steady drop mirrors perfectly. It benefits from solid verse by Ghostface Killah, as he brings validation to Lion Babe’s way of finding the perfect pairing for a song.

Along with Trinidad James, other features on the album stand out individually, “Signs” with rapper, Siimbiie Lakew. “Signs” is a high point Rainbow Child, as rapper Siimbiie Lakew brings a cadence and intimacy in his performance. It’s saddening to see them almost lose control of their individualized freedom as the featured artists are more memorable than Jillian Hervey. They focus on weaving the songs with beautiful visuals. This creates some fluidity, but most people won’t be listening and watching in tangent unless you’re a superfan.

Due to this, the album teeters on and off, catching you by surprise by these featured performers who outperform Hervey; Lucas Goodman’s production, not as much. Goodman’s eclectic production contains ever-changing spotlights as he toys with psychedelic and acoustic sounds. He allows for the simplicity to mold into an effervescent array of moods, between togetherness and spirited. On the vocal end, we see Hervey finding a happy medium, matched with the underwhelming songwriting. “Going Through It” has a smooth-twinkly percussion, which emboldens Hervey’s slow tempo, despite boring lyricism that breaches a level of preachiness.

Neither member of Lion Babe has been consistently great; however, you’ll know when the music lands. You’ll become mesmerized as they pick you up from the corner seat and onto the dance floor. There aren’t many instances where this is the case on Rainbow Child, except for “Get Up,” which elevates the smooth slow-dancing grooves that aren’t prevalent in classical styles. Jillian Hervey and Trinidad James make the most of lavish-80s nostalgia influences within production. The brass horns create a bridge toward the soft percussion, as the piano keys and bass round out their colors. Trinidad adds that beautiful fusion with his effortless flow, which has grown throughout the years.

Unfortunately, in between the few highlights, Rainbow Child can be very forgettable. The intangibles of the album’s production allow it to breathe from beneath the rubble of mediocrity. It feels lost and not the trippy fun created by stringy performances and elegant sound layering. Lucas Goodman’s production has a natural way of transitioning from one to another, and as much as Hervey tries, she doesn’t command focus. Unless you hear the featured artist, it’s hard to distinguish which song is playing.

Rainbow Child leaves me feeling bewildered as the talent doesn’t mirror what is expected, especially with the simplicity of the songwriting. It doesn’t fit the character mold well, thus leaving less to the imagination and adding pressure toward the featured artist. It does leave you with one thing, a want to return to Cosmic Wind on a warm summer day. 

Rating: 5.5 out of 10.

Prince – Welcome 2 America: Review

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When word spread of a non-collection of demos and records from Prince’s vault, the world felt a sigh of relief to receive new music without fearing for a producer’s intervention. We heard that this album, Welcome 2 America, was one that Prince had shelved after its recording. And after some rough years with tragic releases that undercut artists’ legacies, like Michael Jackson and Pop Smoke, there were worries that this new album could potentially deliver something similar. However, that isn’t the case. Welcome 2 America is this groovy-funkadelic soul journey that takes through histrionics of culture’s control in society.

Most of Welcome 2 America reminds us of what we’ve been missing over the last half-decade. Prince has had a presence everywhere, despite minimal hiccups within some of the instrumentations. There isn’t a moment where the music feels fully dated. He speaks on the influence social media and the internet have on creating biased opinions. But it isn’t like Prince is equating to the meme – The Simpsons Predicting Things. Instead, Prince has a keen eye on the stimulation consistent backslaps from the judicial system, and more can create amongst a crowd. 2020 was a testament to that momentous uproar amongst the community.

Before the start of Prince’s Welcome 2 America tour, his band accompanied him in the studio to record some music, particularly about the social-political climate in America and more. He distinguishes the rights of one and the view imparted on them based on blind societal construction. In the opening song, Prince delivers in spoken-word / singing hybrid delivers this wide range of ideas that flowed through his head as he saw the world progress. It continues to elevate throughout the album, taking away aspects of the dance movements for electrifying emphasis on the songwriting.

This is effervescent on the songs “Same Page, Different Book” and “Running Game (Son Of A Slave Master),” which breaths onto life’s recurring redundancies. It speaks on the changes needed as these redundancies become a more glaring issue. It finds ways to fix a community presence to keep the attention of the listener through the instrumentations.

Prince has had a consistent procession with rockabilly sensibilities behind his various eras, from disco to funkadelic power-rock and others. It isn’t missing here as Prince takes us back to a moment where this sound rang supreme for him. So there will be an urge to groove to the rhythm, despite the deep meaning in the songwriting. For example, In the song “Born 2 Die,” Prince creates a parallel to living-free as he speaks about the dangers that could kill a character, like external temptations. Prince approaches these subjects carefully to create the right atmosphere amongst the collection of tracks. It makes the transition between songs that bring out a two-step and ones that bring out your inner beret-wearing-coffee-drinker sensibilities (musically). 

The songs that follow a similar path to “Born 2 Die” come across with beautiful bravado. “Yes” and “Hot Summer,” in particular, are these breaths of fresh air with commanding gospels that create unison from those who dance around with glee. It stems from a looser sensibility that comes from an elongated sunset and calming weather of the summer. “Yes” gets you up on two feet as you rejoice with the band in this unified mix of glee and happiness that stem from trying and seeing new pastures.

Unlike “Yes,” “Hot Summer” is a delicate summer fling that doesn’t boast the tracks around it. Others feel part of a bigger collective, while this feels too focused on being a summer anthem. From the infectious percussion and harmonies by Prince and his band, this small stoppage gap delivers behind Prince’s strengths. It’s a highlight from the album that isn’t fully there. To its merit, one could easily find themselves grooving to this on any given day or whenever your focus isn’t to play this from start to finish.

These transfer over to other songs like “1000 Light Years From Here.” This song contrasts themes with the instrumentations. It blends lively sounds with serious songwriting that speak about the prototypical American Dream. For some, it is a true dream that becomes a reach, while others create their own far from the gravitational center of society. 

The songs that fluctuate instrumentally around similar sentiments are usually the best. One of my favorites songs on the album, “Stand Up And B Strong,” delivers on all cylinders. It builds momentum by fueling the internal desire to feel heard and capitalize on unified strengths. Like on “Yes,” there is an overwhelming sense of wanting happiness and determination that brings us closer together. 

There aren’t many songs that feel minimally off. But there is a reason Welcome 2 America got shelved in 2011. It isn’t perfect, and the humility it adds to Prince as a musician leaves you feeling comfortable and warm about its perception later down the road. Welcome 2 America takes itself seriously and is vibrant enough that most will enjoy the many songs on this, while others may feel lukewarm – understandably so. This album is fun and a nice relic of the past; however, it would have been understandable if it remained shelved.

Rating: 8 out of 10.

Leon Bridges – Gold-Diggers Sound: Review

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Leon Bridges’ old soul is rooted in the back of his vocal cords. He delivers transcendent – driving with the top down of your convertible – type of music. We’ve heard Leon Bridges deliver various sweet and tingling performances over loose and melodic string orchestration, sometimes reminding you of Otis Redding. We swayed with the rhythm of R&B, resonant of smooth-soft billowing from singers who presided with dominance. His attention to detail is awe-inspiring, which rarely gets underwritten by poor transition execution. He takes you on the backseat of his motorbike as he swoons you to smooth grooves, particularly from his softening-melodic vocals, on his new album Gold-Diggers Sound. 

Throughout Gold-Diggers Sound, Leon Bridges shifts the location from the dim-lit music club to the bedsheets. “Steam” takes that approach by creating a sleek and vibrant track about winning over our date, who had you head over heels from her hotness. With these unique inflections, he brings self-assurance to the people who need to swoon a little more. Instead of playing classic Trey Songz or Jodeci to get in the mood, Leon’s music makes you work for it by allowing the females he sings about to have a dynamic perception of the situations at hand. Leon Bridges transfixes these ideas with grace and beauty that they become individualized highlights all their own.

Two tracks come to mind when reflecting on these intentional directions of love and intimacy: “Motorbike” and “Magnolias.” Each track is a whirlwind adventure through the nightly bustle as you marvel at the beautiful lights illuminating your way. It’s a two-pronged song that doesn’t billow in a puddle of basic conventions and delivers a worthwhile free-living experience. Being non-conventional is the definition of the album, bringing unique strengths from Leon Bridges’ remarkable vocal range.

“Magnolias” is a bit different. Leon Bridges finds himself inspired by magnolia trees and the music Sade within the construct of the song. It tells a beautiful tale about love juxtaposed with elevated moods. Leon is in a state of pure happiness and whimsy that his state of mind is loose with the thought of smelling magnolia trees, opposed to flowers. It’s like the fragrance offers a more poignant aroma that brings them this elevated/happy mood.

As he puts it in an interview with Apple Music: “I immediately was pigeonholed after my first album, and the more I continue to create, I want to be honest about the music that inspires me. I love the juxtaposition of that beautiful acoustic guitar with the more trap, modern R&B thing. My mother always used to encourage me to write a song about this magnolia tree that was in her backyard. And so I kind of took that and shaped the lyrics around it. In my head, as far as the chorus, it felt like this is how Sade would sing it in terms of that melody. That probably doesn’t make sense, but it made sense in my head at the time.”

The melodies and harmonies are reminiscent of a young Sade record. Leon Bridges doesn’t hide from what influences him, finding new ways to deliver with impact on the production. His producers, Ricky Reed, and Nate Mercereau, amongst others, add extra layers of textures of instruments that developed further in our modern era (1990 – Present) of music. The production is crisp and tight without feeling like another rendition of a song we heard previously. To Leon Bridges’ testament, his vocal performances have kept him afloat as he breathes new life to these songs. On Coming Home, he delivered “Smooth Sailin’,” which allowed you to feel the soft summer wind breezing every time the chorus came on. And on Gold-Diggers Sound, it becomes a recurring attraction.

Unfortunately, Gold-Diggers Sound doesn’t have pristine execution; transitioning from song to song you start to notice which songs pop, opposed to not. Amongst the aforementioned “Motorbike” and “Magnolias” is the song “Gold-Diggers,” which gets lost amongst the trove of spectacular songs surrounding it. This situation mirrors as the album comes to a close. 

Preceding the last two tracks is the astounding “Sweeter,” with Terrace Martin, which details a story told through the perspective of a protagonist in the shoes of someone who has been slain due to unnecessary force by police officers. His sentiments explore a deep section of the subconscious that fears any pivot could trigger a radical response in any given situation.

Gold-Diggers Sound is a beautiful detour from his traditional work of the past. It packs songs that flow with the wind and the top down as you’re cruising down the coast. His fans will continue to enjoy his harmless and tender vocals, and new fans will discover the breath of fresh air he delivers amongst others in his genre.

Rating: 8 out of 10.

H.E.R – Back of My Mind: Review

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Continuing her monstrous year, winning both Song of The Year at the Grammys and the Academy Award for Best Original Song, H.E.R. delivers her debut studio album, Back of My Mind. It’s crazy to think that after three years of critical acclaim and mainstream success, she has been going about, on a consistent basis, releasing EPs after EPs that would later be repurposed as compilation albums. But her originality and talent always shined, giving us these unique creations that showed her range; specifically proving she has the makings of a rock star. Back of My Mind has luscious production, fantastic vocal performances, albeit clocking in at 21 songs and 80 minutes of material that sometimes feel more like filler or non complacent within the bigger picture.

Back of My Mind comes as H.E.R’s first true foray into creating a concept album that delves deep into her subconscious and brings out these beautiful performances about her life. However they come in a sporadic mess with few inconsistencies. There are moments where the track has you hooked from the melodies and the production – at times sensing smart songwriting – and yet the choruses that are supposed to be the icing on the cake, start to slightly teeter on mediocrity at random instances. H.E.R. either keeps your attention or you start to lose it as some tracks don’t have the depth her vocals can provide; other times the writing from her, with a collection of others, carry a lot of dead weight as it’s hard to distinguish who wrote who.

But these random factions on Back of My Mind are filled with some filler and thematic redundancy. That it will have you – at times – tapping next slightly quicker than usual, like on “Find A Way,” with Lil Baby, which comes across as broad and redundant. It feels like it was orchestrated to add slight commercial appeal; the same could also be said about the addition of “Slide,” with YG, and one of the weaker tracks, “I Can Have It All,” that she made with Bryson Tiller, Meek Mill, and DJ Khaled for his most recent album, Khaled Khaled. But for some of these tracks, hitting the skip button is a blessing as some of H.E.R’s best work comes from it, like “Bloody Waters,” with Thundercat, co-produced by Kaytranada and Gitelman (producer of the 2016 Mac Miller single “Cinderella”) and “Don’t.”

But these great follow-ups are just crumbs off the cake, as other slices come with blandness like the track “Paradise,” with southern trap rapper, Yung Bleu. It feels off as they try to incorporate and feel invigorated by the low-tempo island R&B and Hip-Hop ballad, which gets worse as it progresses; specifically because of the evolution of sound that starts to steer off a cliff. It is one of the many tracks that evoke themes about relationships and love, a few of which came off redundant, despite unique sounds. But when she steers in a more personable direction that doesn’t feel completely tried, as her career seemed to have a weird trajectory. When those songs have more focus on her person and the effect fame has had on her artistry, opposed to the more tedious themes in R&B/Soul, is where H.E.R. shines as a vocalist, allowing herself to break down more barriers and have us forget about the one true deterrent into pop in the song, “Slide.”

The emotional performances from H.E.R captivate you whether it’s melodically soulful or spiritually bleak, and continuing to show that her dominance in the industry is no fluke with her amazing voice and range. This continuation shows more when she is trading verses and duets with other artists, like the nuanced “Come Through,” featuring Chris Brown channeling a version of himself we rarely see. This is similarly heard on “Trauma,” featuring Cordae. The smooth, somber, and depth filled production by Hit-Boy feels isolated and it shines as its own thing that fits within the grander scheme of the concept as she picks apart pieces of her mind. It’s a breath of fresh air to hear these two artists mesh into a H.E.R. like tracks that don’t come across as what you’d expect when seeing their name on a feature list.

There are plentiful examples to highlight how H.E.R creates a path to let collaborators flourish with her. It provides insight to the construction of the song/production notes, and how some meld themselves into a genre they barely touch. On “Cheat Code,” Asa Taccone (Electric Guest) and Julia Michaels co-wrote and co-produced the highlight “Cheat Code,” which felt seminally out of the former’s comfort zone. Asa brings unique touches with co-producer DJ Camper, like the vibrant and distinguishing percussion patterns. 

This cohesion and understanding allows for new perspective on the delivery of the performance over the production, amongst the in between writing like New Jersey producer Cardiak and R&B/Soul songwriters from various eras of the genre, but especially this new era with writers like the duo Nova Wav (written for DJ Khaled and Teyanna Taylor) and Gamal Lewis, who has written for Ciara, Meghan Trainor, and Lil Wayne, to name a few. Unfortunately not everyone can make a track work, as Gamal Lewis and the other credited writers couldn’t really make that track feel fully rounded.

Back of My Mind’s quality strives in the middle where many tracks hit, some of which have distinct details that make slightly lesser tracks more repeatable, like the melody and production of “Lucky,” and “My Own,” or the lyricism of “Process.” H.E.R. comes about this album with a need to distinguish and express that she is capable of range, which she has previously tried to show on the slightly fun “We Goin’ Crazy” from Khaled Khaled.

H.E.R. has never shied away from speaking her truth, but she seems to feel misguided when it came to constructing her debut album. It’s bloated, running at 21 tracks and 80 minutes in length, you could tell what could have been shaved off and it would have made a tighter album. However, H.E.R. delivers enough to have you returning to this, especially with unique outputs like “Come Through;” however you’ll probably return to her earlier work more frequently.

Rating: 6.5 out of 10.

St. Vincent – Daddy’s Home: Review

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St. Vincent has never shied away from exuberating a lust and love for the music she creates; a lot of which have centered around a pop-like subtext, ranging from the noise and art pop of Actress to the glam rock and synth pop rock of Masseducation. She has always been an ever-growing force in music that doesn’t let universal appeal become a drawback into her artistry, and the bold choices she makes on weaving her vocal performances to fit the nuanced funk/soul sounds of her new album, Daddy’s Home, feel like a breath of fresh air. In a way these sounds have allowed her vocal performances to envelop a new stratosphere, where a lot of the key-sonic undertones of early 70s funk, sways her in this nostalgic direction, which shows the visceral strength behind the talent of both St. Vincent (Annie Clark) and Co-Producer Jack Antanoff. 

Daddy’s Home is very personal for St. Vincent, diving deep into the crevices of her life and allowing it to integrate different narrative styles. Whether she is implementing herself in a party to establish a social misery that she masks amongst friends and family or being referential to detail the stress the media induces with certain standards on, she keeps it emotionally resonating with the melodic and melancholic nuances in her vocal performance and its pace. It brings more to the atmospheric and soulful texture over many funk-inspired tracks and the more broken down instrumental like “…At The Holiday Party.” 

One of the few cruxes of Daddy’s Home goes beyond the dimensions of sonic direction. As this is her first foray into these beautiful nostalgic – era defining sounds, it comes across naturalistic and her pain, her determination, and the way life around her interacts, brings about a new sense of clarity musically. Along with Jack Antanoff, she brings a plethora of grooves and melodies that drive home the deepening realism in her themes and performances. The title song brings variant indications that the album will balance its tonal inflections with the production. 

The kind of funk that emboldens various aspects of the production on Daddy’s Home doesn’t always take a renowned approach to the pacing and instead develops a leaner and softer-melodic texture more attune to her strengths. Midway through, St. Vincent takes that unique turn by bringing forth an uptempo with an elevation in the notes of the wurlitzer and the groovy-loud bass patterns, which guides the direction laid out by the opening track, “Pay Your Way.” The funkadelic sounds don’t always get an uptick from the vibrant bass grooves and infectious sequences in the production that comes from the masterful mixing of layers by Chris Gehringer, who has mixed Loud by Rihanna and most recently Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa. His work in creating the final mix has given St. Vincent’s vocals a very open and focused limelight.

Her vocal performances contain ranges in pace, which in most cases takes the emotional gravitas that embodies soul music and gives it character, in this melodic way. But the unique approach to using modulation and effects gives the vocals an elevation that the backing vocals do a little better. The modulation on “Pay Your Way,” gives it that extra level of authenticity to the kind of modulation usage in funk music from artists of yester. However, the effects on “Down,” are subtle; it gives the song and her performance a naturalistic rock approach in the vigorously strong electric guitars and thumping percussion. 

Most times St. Vincent takes the slower and melodic soul vocals and she delivers some buried emotions from the kind of relationship she has had with her father, whose release from prison was the light bulb for this sonically conceptual album. It’s a loose inspiration as she takes it to tell a bigger story that seems to be misplaced for the time. Daddy’s Home is at point literal and abstract in the music, using these stories to tell the bigger picture. But without the nuanced sound, the album’s nostalgia trip is lost within a newspaper from years ago when a white-collar crime got equal notoriety as opposed to others. It ignites the range in emotions hidden beneath. You can hear the anger, the disappointment, and the aspiration to get through the hurdles that encompass the overall being of one.

Daddy’s Home brings an influx of new sounds that make it different from what we are used to from St. Vincent, but she makes it her own and develops a beautiful array of soulful vocal performances. It elevates the emotional grip she has on the words, which become more impactful the more you listen to it. 

Rating: 8 out of 10.

Gnarls Barkley – St. Elsewhere: 15 Years Later and Still Crazy.

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The superlative behind an album’s time since it’s initial release carries many distinct meanings, dependent on its importance at the time. So as we approach the 15-Year mark since the release of St. Elsewhere by duo Gnarls Barkley, I start to think how it hasn’t had a monumental presence beyond its monstrous first single, “Crazy.” The duo, consisting of rapper/singer Cee-Lo Green and producer Danger Mouse, were not heavy names in the stratosphere of music for many casual listeners because they didn’t breach into pop charts or delved into the common trend at the time. You could make the case that Danger Mouse had credibility before diving in upon release, as he did some production, including lead single “Clint Eastwood,” off the debut for the band Gorillaz. So as we revisit St. Elsewhere, let’s remember the phenomenal collection of poignant tracks with an effervescent array of eclectic production that didn’t garner as much attention as the perfectly crafted “Crazy.”

At the peak of their debut, along with the single “Crazy,” Gnarls Barkley wasn’t part of the bigger pop and R&B/Hip-Hop niche that circulated many radio stations. From Ciara, Chamillionaire, and Chingy to Natasha Bedingfield and Daniel Powter, if your music/sound didn’t have anything that resonated with a similar stylistic direction, you most likely wouldn’t breach further into the everyday Hot 100 listener – pre streaming. St. Elsewhere had its moment in the sun and took every advantage at this peak. And it did so with the track “Crazy,” which was an embodiment of their artistry. Though the album doesn’t have cohesion for simple accessibility (based on musical sensibilities), it did bring about a lush group of sounds that flows well with Cee-Lo’s vocal performances and Danger Mouse’s complex production.

The sonic infusions within the soul-like core were ahead of the time in its stylistic approach, which was less rooted in gospel than a traditional or pop-modern soul (like Ruben Studdard). It didn’t become a genre that expanded into experimenting with these different additions, consistently, until the last few years with a plethora of new artists switching the way it sounds. This is in conjunction with what – almost – every genre has been doing recently with our technological and mental growth. However, the varying use of synths and electronic sounds adds different aspects from the music of older soul-influences that influenced them. This sound is a hybrid of a psychedelic atmosphere with either soul or R&B undertones that were more prevalent in the late 60s and 70s, like the heavy bass lines and snares. 

This is heard within the final mixes of tracks, like “St. Elsewhere” and “Go-Go Gadget Gospel,” who, outside of their biggest hit “Crazy,” are embodiments of the sounds the rest of the tracks would take from and create a bigger world outside the music. But at the time, the singles that followed didn’t have much life on the American charts outside of “Crazy.” But including “Crazy,” a lot of their singles had a second life in Europe. “Crazy” shouldn’t surprise you because of the duality it has from being nuanced to older variations and experimental, which Europe fawns over without hesitation. The base – stylistic approach to the different production allowed it to find its way into the array of glossy playlist and stations from the way the surface layer of the tracks feeds its energy to you, specifically the less unique (loose term) ones, like “Necromancer.” You can hear the difference between the vibrance of “Crazy” and the twinkly grit of “Necromancer.”

Heavy piano notes that evoke the atmospheric textures, specifically in the expanded range of Cee-Lo’s naturalistic soulful voice, streamline the production on “Crazy.” This isn’t much different from the other soul-centric/alt-rock (esque) tracks, as well as the hip-hop oriented one. Cee-Lo’s control of his raspy baritone/tenor allows for an extra level of awe as we hear him go about these various subjects. This has been a natural strength, which has helped add more to his music during his Goodie Mob days and his solo career. It’s design from its lyrics and melodies makes it accessible for covers at different tempos. 

“Crazy” has this immense popularity and prominence in performance culture, but the fact that it never reached number #1 in the Hot 100 changed how it is seen – between being a blessing and a curse. It was the better – objectively speaking – track between the two other ones that were #1 at its peak, which was #2 for seven weeks. Outside of our own continent, it soared through Europe and reached momentous heights in the UK. A plethora of similar tracks like “Smiling Faces,” “Just A Thought,” and their cover of the Violent Femmes track, “Gone Daddy Gone,” didn’t find equal footing as “Crazy.” 

But the rest of the album has a constant within the production that comes from an eclectic mix of jazz and hip-hop percussion/horns and electronic instruments that circumvent the varying grooves into the slight uniqueness of it. Cee-Lo adds definition with his lustrous vocals, which has constant changes, depending on the kind of direction it wants to take, like the bombastic “Go Go Gadget Gospel,” and their remake of the Violent Femmes song “Gone Daddy Gone.” Both songs are as infectious, if not more than “Crazy,” but it does not get remembered as much because the music world was in an era where that kind rock bravado was more poignant in pop-punk and the semi-screamo punk, like Bullet For My Valentine and All American Rejects. So for this to break through with the beautifully contrasting “Who Cares?” would have been some kind of miracle. It all comes together with the instrumental undertones, like synth bass and the minimoog. 

These varying degrees of musical impacts left an impression on a younger me. The younger version of myself, who couldn’t figure out why radio hosts were deafening their ears with cheesy bubblegum/ballad pop and rock, when something beautifully different was there, waiting for someone to call them center stage. I remember falling in love with “Crazy” when it hit its initial run on the Z100, but when I purchased the album and gave it a listen, I began to admire the various electronic instruments, like the Roland JX-3P. But as you sit there, reading the amount of gush and praise I’m giving St. Elsewhere, the popularity on the internet is stagnant and maintains the SEO search popularity akin to “one hit wonders.” 

When it comes to searching the term, “Gnarls Barkley,” on YouTube, it delivers an onslaught of “Crazy” content. There are many covers and edited montages of award show performances of the song, but within the crevices the music videos for other songs from St. Elsewhere are there at an outdated 360/480 standard definition conversion. I’m out here expressing glee with the amount of love and notoriety “Crazy” and their other songs of equal quality. Even behind the guise that search engines have, the amount of expansive content on their work is put into these short perspectives with enough expressions of love and enjoyment. 

And now, 15-Years later, St. Elsewhere hasn’t seen the kind of appraisal it deserves. Hopefully I have been able to influence you to go and listen or revisit St. Elsewhere, a masterwork of soul, waiting for new listeners to hop on board the psychedelic train to Elsewhere. And keep their name alive as we graciously wait for the release of their third album, whenever that will be.