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Mary J. Blige, Manu Chao and Jill Scott Make the
Grade
Also in this month's column: Burial's "Untrue," The-Dream's
"Love/Hate," The Go! Team's "Proof of Youth," Nellie McKay's "Obligatory
Villagers," No Age's "Weirdo Rippers," Honorable Mention/Choice Cuts and Dud of the Month/More Duds.
By Robert Christgau Special to MSN Music
February 2008
Supposedly this was going to be another hip-hop month, but for several
reasons it turned into an R&B month -- the main reason being a profusion of
gorgeous R&B (plus, admittedly, how long it took me to get my hands on Disc
2 of Lil Wayne's "Da Drought 3").
Mary J. Blige "Growing
Pains" (Geffen)
Back in the day, the Aretha comparisons were ignorant -- Mary's early albums
weren't all they were cracked up to be, and neither was her voice. But a decade
and a half later, she deserves respect. Like Aretha, her hip-hop soul has long
since transmuted into a working relationship with actually existing black pop,
which right now just means pop. On 2005's breakthrough "The Breakthrough," that was interpreted to mean soft. This
time, happily, Busta Rhymes and Ludacris get her back to where she once belonged
for the duration of their openers. After that, it's an expensive, honorable,
credible sampler of the hottest current R&B brands, with multiple nods to Ne-Yo and "Umbrella." Even the homiletic "Stay Down" will
grow on you, though not for as long as Geffen hopes. The comparison this all
doesn't quite live up to: Aretha's multiproduced, hip-hop-friendly "A Rose Is Still a Rose," now disgracefully out of print
(though you can buy it cheap used). Ten years from now, this best-seller won't
have suffered that fate -- if "in print" means anything at all in 2018.
Grade: A MINUS
Burial "Untrue" (Cargo)
Unlike most New Ambient, Burial's music is emotional, which helps its funk a
lot, and eventful, which helps its interest even more. Fifteen years ago, we
would have called it trip-hop or, stupidly, illbient (remember that one?). Now
it's supposedly dubstep. I wouldn't quite class this with "Maxinquaye" -- melodies and voices could be more distinct
with no loss of atmosphere. But Burial -- a single, scrupulously anonymous guy
(although not so scrupulous that anyone suggests he's a woman) -- has a sonic
imagination worthy of Mr. Tricky himself. Burbling electronic ticktocks vie with a
carillon of bell simulacra, and rarely have vinyl crackle or laser malfunction
generated more musicality. The moniker and, apparently, the worldview, are dark,
as the kids say. But when the mix is as rich as this, dark goes to a better
place.
Grade: A
Manu Chao "La
Radiolina" (National/Because)
What Chao does seems so easy that it's hard to believe it took him seven
years to follow up the sweetly relaxed, justly beloved "Proxima Estaci¢n." Maybe
he's just lazy -- it's not like he's a work ethic guy. Or maybe he wanted to do
something different and took a while settling into what that might be -- namely,
a new tempo. This is a speedier pop suite suitable for dancing or straightening
up the flat. The guitars remind us that Chao launched his career from the
Eurorock-en-Espanol Mano Negra, and the lyrics in French and Spanish seem as
conscious as the English-language offerings "Politik Kills" and "Rainin in
Paradize." These are rock moves, you could say. Yet the deepest accommodations
are with glitzy, synthy, militantly shallow Europop. Seven years after 2001,
what other populace can a radical internationalist such as Chao hope to
enlighten? Not ours, I'm afraid.
Grade: A MINUS
The-Dream "Love/Hate" (Def
Jam)
For "Umbrella" fans only -- all you stick-in-the-muds, go suck an egg. Out of
his extended-syllable trick, dollops of falsetto, male backups going hey and
stuff, and the good nature of someone who figures there's no point being mean
when you're lucky, the guy who wrote "Umbrella" fashions an utterly slight,
utterly captivating R&B album. True, he pursues other's girls, leaves one
shawty because she's not quick enough on the get-down, and moves on to the
speedier, needier Nikki when another doesn't immediately accept his tender
offer. But mostly he just enjoys himself in bed and makes pop in the studio. In
"Luv Songs," he does both simultaneously.
Grade: A MINUS
The Go! Team "Proof of Youth" (Sub
Pop)
Just when you're ready to give up and apply to graduate school, along comes a
simple band who get everything right. True, they're not very tuneful. But
they're danceable, Ninja raps plenty well enough, and have there ever been beats
like Ian Parton's, with their chants and strums and melodica statements? Plus a
warm-up from Sha Rock and Lisa Lee, who I hope got their checks, and a sum-up
from Chuck D, who I expect secured his in advance.
Grade: A MINUS
Nellie McKay "Obligatory Villagers" (Hungry
Mouse)
In an antirockist moment when faerie folkies airier than Joanna Newsom and disco dollies emptier than Rihanna are thought to promise a braver, freer future, why
isn't this manifestly hypertalented young person a generational hero? Couldn't
have any connection, could it, to the fact that no fewer than three netcrits --
all, as it happens, men -- don't understand that the opening laugh line,
"Feminists don't have a sense of humor," is the well-turned piece of satire that
makes everyone I play it for giggle? I agree -- she's scattered, unfinished,
self-indulgent. But she's also ebullient, funny and political. Her future looks
brave and free to me.
Grade: A MINUS
No Age "Weirdo Rippers" (Fat
Cat)
These two senior skateboarders' distended guitars and obtrusive trap drums
are the sound of realized misery, which is so much better than some egomaniac
screaming because adulthood is scary. They know they hurt because that girl is
gone and they know they hurt because America is spilling its coffee on them.
They're saving room for their baby in the pit, but they'd rather not fight you
for it. Sometimes they think death is hope, sometimes pain. But they're "not
afraid of laughter because it's all feeling too." And they're not afraid of
beauty either.
Grade: A MINUS
Jill Scott "The Real Thing" (Hidden
Beach)
The Aretha analogy here is her weight. The front cover has her looking dusky
and curvacious, spring coat over medium decolletage; on the back she's sitting
on the floor all pensive with an open composition book covering her bosom. In
neither does she fake skinny, and that is as it should be. At the very least,
"real thing" means something for once. Through almost as many producers as Mary,
this album has a single identity, a contour and a groove that suits its
well-inhabited breakup concept. There's plenty of sex before and after, and the
sex has content. I don't mean emotional content, either, though I have faith the
emotion is there. In her timbre, her phrasing and the words she writes in that
composition book, Scott is someone for whom sex is about physical pleasure --
not athletic ability, boundary transgression, novelty or dominance and
submission.
Grade: A MINUS
More: Honorable Mention/Choice Cuts |
Dud of the Month/More DudsDud of the Month/More
Duds |