Rating: 4/5
Verdict: Yep, he delivers, again.
As he proved on his two previous albums, this immensely quiffed sharp-suited Bostonian risks getting beaten by his own schtick.
He is, after all, an unknown young white guy sounding like quite a few legendary black guys.
Like his previous offerings, this is a kind of time-warp soul revue that
has one scanning the songwriting credits for mentions of Motown, Stax and the like.
But no, apart from opening track Young Girl, they are all his own work and come delivered with due period reverence and punchy energy by a crash-hot band - despite the past hip-hop work of producer Mike Elizondo, here overseeing Reed's major label debut.
Sometimes, a slight whiff of fromage does figure in the lyrics, which are seemingly beamed in from more innocent times, especially on the Sam Cooke-echoing Pick a Number.
But elsewhere Reed proves that he's one great retro-stylist - that's whether he's offering an Otis Redding-styled slow-burner of Time Will Tell, a soul-gospel according to Ray Charles on You Can Run On, or the remarkable James Brown-inspired fury of Explosion that closes the album and suggests that live, Reed and co would surely be something to see.
On record, this nu-soul wonderboy is certainly something to hear.
