Album review: D'Angelo and the Vanguard, Black Messiah

D'Angelo

D'Angelo actually dropped his first release in 14 years in 2014, a musical surprise just before Christmas, but that left us no time to review it before the holidays, so it's our first review for 2015 instead. And having spent the summer break getting into his generous R&B grooves, we can happily announce it's a winner - had we heard it before our "Best of 2014" list came out, it would've been on there.

Thoroughly modern, yet drawing on the history of funk greats, he's spiced Black Messiah up with a smattering of political angles, and come up with 12 tracks that are spirited in a quiet way, burning with a deep, late-night ambience. It's fiery rather than angry, and though his liner notes make it clear that he thinks the world has plenty to rise up against, the production of the album balances that with a laid-back nonchalance.

There are songs filled with space and air, while others weave together intricately fuzzy layers of many different sounds. It's a revolution in modern R&B, warm, thick, and gloriously groovy, without sounding too polished or too ponderous - like records of old, pre-digital. Perfectly imperfect.

While there's plenty of aural golden syrup, and an overwhelming hazy-soul vibe, Black Messiah generally steers away from being overtly seductive - it's more concerned with social commentary, and bringing the funk, than it is with the often-tread R&B themes of love and sex.

The record's ultimate social consciousness may have been somewhat overstated - in the wake of 2014's tragic combustion of racism in America, several of D'Angelo's songs seem to have a more potent message than perhaps he originally started with when first writing the lyrics months or years back, but that may simply show his foresight.

For example, The Charade offers these choice lines: "All we wanted was a chance to talk, instead we only got outlined in chalk. Feet have bled a million miles we've walked, revealing at the end of the day, the charade", which seem perfectly judged in the shadow of the Brown/Garner/Martin/Rice cases, but also leave room for much wider interpretation.

Beyond his lyrical prowess there's plenty to celebrate in the sound world of Black Messiah too. With contributions from the likes of Pino Palladino and Questlove, he takes stylistic cues from Sly Stone and Prince, from country and Latin, from gospel and electronica, and even a dose of punk attitude.

There's the heady vocal harmonies opening of Ain't That Easy with its playful guitar riffs, and light-as-a-feather rhythmical chugg, somehow creating a smooth and snappy juxtaposition. 1000 Deaths has a more chaotic feel, sampling a rowdy preacher over an almost-distorted bass pulse, and a stern, choppy rhythm. The Charade keeps that hard, insistent rhythmic feel, but combines it with dreamy synth melodies, and wigged-out vocals. Tracks like Sugah Daddy and Real Love provide something prettier, contributing playful horns and piano flourishes and skipping vocal parts, or some deep swooning strings and Spanish/gypsy influenced guitars. Back to the Future Part I's cynical lyrical perspective is offset by the most distinctly languid, good-time sounding arrangement, complete with party chatter and laughter.

It's quite a contrast to the disorienting, drunk-sounding Prayer, all off-kilter pulse and dissonant harmonies, which is somehow anchored by D'Angelo's smooth vocal caress, or the jazz-scatting of Betray My Heart.

Every track is a worthwhile addition, but the piece de resistance is closer Another Life, which knots all his experiments into a slightly more conventional late-night ballad, full of Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, but with D'Angelo's free-spirited stamp. It's a glorious and shining end to his triumphant return.

Label: Sony Music
Verdict: A triumphant second coming