Spotlight On: Gerald Levert

03/26/2013

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I was in New York on a business trip that was ending very badly. In a club with a compatriot-in-misery, during a casual in-a-bar-with-strangers conversation, we found out that Gerald Levert was dead. Misery is a selfish beast and we’d been captivated by the fantastical nature of our sour turn that not a shred of other-people-drama had permission to penetrate our shell-shocked world. Upon hearing the news, we were appropriately set aback, mouth formed in the perfect caricature of screaming non-believers: “What did you say!?!” “What? Really?” “How?” When?” Why?” HOW?!”.

Gerald’s death was just a few lines on most newscasts. Like so many artists whose breadth of talent gets suffocated into the limiting categories of “R&B” or “urban contemporary”, Gerald’s departure couldn’t be felt as deeply outside of our community. His importance could not be understood by those who viewed R&B as a sidebar to “popular” music, and thus continued to relegated its’ stars to “off-Broadway” triumphs.  Yet, for us, Gerald heralded-ironically- from Rhythm & Blues Royalty. As the son of Eddie LeVert of the O’Jays, Gerald exemplified everything we want in a child following a parents well-blazed path: as an honorific and with respect to the elder while delivering originality and modernity to craft a sound independent of the prototype.

Gerald was more than a voice. Gerald LeVert is credited as an arranger, producer, composer as well keyboardist and drummer for artists with a range from  Anita Baker to the Oak Ridge Boys, and lots of familiars in between: Patti LaBelle, Stephanie Mills, Keith Sweat, Silk, En Vogue, New Edition……

When I heard “DJ Don’t”-released after his death,I felt his loss deep in the grooves of that classic steppers cut. It’s that moment when we realize that there will be no more “new”, and we try not to collapse under the weight of death’s obscene unfairness! WHY?!  However, there will never be a comforting answer so we retrieve what was great and glorious…what remains from the ashes..

Gerald LeVert..a limited list of wonder from an artist worth so much more:

Casanova/Just Coolin’/That’s What Love Is/Private Line/DJ Don’t/Didn’t We/Let’s Get Romantic/Rain/Pop, Pop, Pop Goes My Mind/Thinkin’ Bout It/It Was What It Was/Let the Juices Flow/Just a Little Something/Baby U Are/Dream With No Love

Spotlight- Gerald Levert

 

Spotlight On: Lalah Hathaway

03/11/2012

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Husky. Tender. Sexy.

Lalah Hathawy is 5 solo albums deep in a career that began in 1990 with Lalah Hathaway. Most artist with a 22-year-old recording history would be considered  a seasoned veteran with a household name. Yet Lalah Hathaway remains an atypical underground artist. Among R&B enthusiasts she is loved and appreciated, and routinely sells out small, intimate venues. However, like many Spotlight On selections, she hasn’t received commercial success by which many artists, musical and non, are judged.

Many female artist generate appeal by stretching the limits of their soprano, high-octave range. They make videos filmed with their bodies dancing to beats with strategically placed clothing to enhance their sexual appeal. Their labels invest money in promotions, collaborations, and ancillary endorsements. Consequently, we’re privileged to enjoy richly talented artists whose lyrical interpretations and vocal kinetics soundtrack memories we’ll remember until Alzheimer’s ends it all.

Not Eulalah Hathaway.  Her eponymous début enjoyed heavy rotation on R&B stations, introducing a mix of mid-temp toe-tappers (“Somethin'”” and “Heaven Knows”) and two solid ballads: “I’m Coming Back” and “Baby Don’ Cry”. A very under-the-radar- second album (A Moment), and silence…..

In 1999, Lalah collaborated with Joe Sample, famed pianist and original member of The Crusaders. Together, they produced The Song Lives On, one of  the better jazz albums of the decade, of which Lalah’s vocals invigorated jazz standards (“Fever” ) and updated underrated musical hybrid torch songs (“When Your Life was Low”, “When the World Turns Blue”). While new to jazz audiences, it was a refreshing return for her R&B fans wondering where her career had gone after her 1990 début.  Despite TSLO’s jazz categorization, in its wake, Lalah Hathaway’s style was tagged with the neo-soul label. Yet, anyone that had listened to her first three albums would have definitely refuted that her style and content were “neo” anything. Nonetheless, the appellation probably helped keep her socially relevant as R&B hiccuped its’ way through yet another reincarnation. Despite TSLO’s commercial and critical success, Lalah would not put out another album until 1994’s Outrun the Sky whose anchor song, a remake of Luther Vandrooss’ class “Forever, For Always, For Love”, reaffirmed her role as a sophisticated and fearless, deeply talented and intelligent singer, stylist and interpreter.

Fortunately, we haven’t had to wait decades between drops. Lalah’s been kind enough to drop a few collaborative gems and concert performances.  In 2008, she released Self-Portrait and in 2011 Where It All Began. Her latest album, Where It All Began, features one of her few interpretations from her fathers’ discography, “You Belong to Me”.  As showcased on Outrun the Sky, she maintains Luthers’ ability to take a popular, beloved classic and make it hers while honoring its’ tradition and roots. As she noted in a recent interview given to Black Enterprise (January 2012), despite 22 years in the business, at 42, she feels like she’s at the beginning again, and starting off on top.  We’re so happy to welcome her back home.

Track List:

Stay Home Tonight/Better & Better/Heaven Knows/Let Go/How Many Times/Dealing f Eric Roberson/That Was Then/Outrun the Sky/My Only/One Day I’ll Fly Away/Forever, For Always, For Love/Naked Truth/When Your Life was Low/I’m Coming Back

Spotlight On: Bill Withers

09/11/2011

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Of all the artist selected for the Spotlight series, William Harrison Withers, Jr. is the most deceptively simple. He’s a singer that is known for singing. Yet, disciples of any “Greatest of” list probably won’t notice his absence.   Despite a Grammy-winnng career, and a masterpiece class (“Lean on Me”), William “Bill” Withers never became a rhinestone studded headliner.  Blame it on West Virginia.

He does not come from the well-trod geography boasted of by his R&B contemporaries, and his more deliberative rise came after the peak of the production powerhouses in Detroit and Memphis.  In the end, there may be something about growing up in the poverty of coal-mining country that strips bare all the scaffolding that decorates music. Many will say that West Virginia is unforgiving territory, and the lack of artifice prevents spun tales of princess being rescued, riches been found, and life being lived happily thereafter.  And the confinement to hours in dank coal mines makes sunlight, even a peek, a more appreciative commodity than rapturous or saccharine love songs.  Bill didn’t sing those songs. His style, sparse and deliberate, gave R&B fans two eternal hits: “Ain’t No Sunshine” and “Lean on Me”.  Simple lyrics, sung without pleading, pity, hollers or hosannas:

” Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone/It’s not warm when she’s away/Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone/And she’s always gone too long anytime she goes away”

He never begs.  Yet, we hear his longing for “the young thing” (the one he should be leaving alone), in every touch of of his voice to the lyrics.  Without raised praises to any formal deity, he called us in stewardship to our brothers and sisters, for their sake and for our own on his only #1 hit single, “Lean on Me”:

“Lean on me when you’re not strong/And I’ll be your friend/I’ll help you carry on/For it won’t be long/’Til I’m gonna need/Somebody to lean on”

If Bill Withers remained underrated as a solo 70’s R&B artist, he gained increased recognition following two of his jazz collaborations in the early 80’s.  “Just the Two of Us” with Grover Washington Jr. (from the iconic “Winelight” album) and “In the Name of Love” with Ralph MacDonald (who co-produced the “Winelight” album that had an instrumental version of song) offered flashbacks for fans that recognized the voice behind “Ain’t No Sunshine”, “Use Me” and “Grandma’s Hands”.  While “Just the Two of Us” would become a rotation classic on Quiet Storm and Smooth Jazz formats, it would not re-ignite Bill Withers career. Bill Withers last solo album produced only one single heard by most listeners “Oh Yeah”, from his 1985  album “Watching You, Watching Me”.

Although “Oh, Yeah” was his last radio hit, various re-interpretations of “Lean on Me” and “Ain’t No Sunshine” have surfaced throughout the last 20 years.  Yet, none has altered the permanency of his perfect delivery. While the casual listener may only know him as the voice behind those hits, fans’ pleasure includes classic songs from his 10 albums produced between 1971’s “Just As I Am’ through 1985’s “Watching You Watching Me”. What he didn’t produce in glitter and shine, he provided with simple, yet complete story telling lyrics, solid production and a voice faithful to his roots.

Enjoy

Track List:

Harlem/Use Me/I Wish You Well/It Ain’t Because of Me Baby/The Same Love that Made Me Laugh/Just the Two of Us/ In the Name of Love/Oh Yeah!/Hello Like Before/You Just Can’t Smile it Away/Hope She’ll Be Happier/Memories Are that Way/Let Me Be the One You Need/You Try to Find a Love

Spotlight: Phyllis Hyman

10/11/2010

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During the time of pulling music together so I could actually create a music blog, I wanted to find a way to showcase particular artist. Looking through the catalog of artists I’ve collected over the years, I recognized there were so many artists’ whose genius will never be elevated or lauded to its’ most deserving heights. Their brilliance belongs in the custody of its most intimate listeners.

Phyllis Hyman.  Under Her Spell: Greatest Hits was the first CD I ever purchased. It stood out on the shelf and I grabbed it to give my new portable CD player a test run.   She’d slid into Spike Lee’s ‘School Daze’, shining on-screen singing the jazzy “Only Be One”, and  I remembered her mid-80’s R&B hits “Old Friend” and “Living All Alone”. But that day in Sam Goody’s on 14th & F NW, all I really knew was that she could sang!  Of course through that disc, I would “discover” her career did not begin in the 80’s. Long before my medulla oblongata had been properly formed, Phyllis Hyman was driving her deep and husky voice down jazz alleys and soul music boulevards.

Unfortunately, what I would eventually understand about her importance would come only after her death. Phyllis Hyman committed suicide fifteen years ago.  In June 1995 I landed in Atlanta’s Hartsfield Airport, and as soon as my traveling party settled into my best friends’ car, she told us news reports were announcing Phyllis Hyman’s death. One of my traveling companions, a young 19 year old man, turned to me and asked, “Who is Phyllis Hyman?”.

That 4th of July weekend, Phyllis Hyman and I lived a galaxy apart.  I was 24, a fresh college grad,  “hanging out” with passion absent purpose, burning through the timeless days,  high on potential, promise and possibilities. I’d corralled family and friends to HOT-lanta because it was all we could afford while acting as if money was just another useless mistress. There were neither husbands nor wives nor children. We were completely in touch with what we wanted, and clueless about our needs.  When you’re 24, unintentionally selfish in your self-absorption and captivated by mundane passions, you still believe that everything will be better. Suicide is not your companion. Twenty-four is unearned boast, arrogance in the face of time’s inevitable limitations, a space where even mortal wounds quickly heal. However, 24 gone wrong is 45 with a scabrous map of broken dreams leading to a foraminous heart shrunk by unattended anger and fear.

Fifteen years sober youth’s drunken dreams. I can think of 1,000 reasons to evacuate my sparse 175lb plot of land mass. The ignus fatuus of immortality shone thrown accumulated failures; dreams deferred and mobile passions stalled by reality.  I recognize the depth, know the realism of  “Living All Alone”, “Ain’t You Had Enough Love”, “Waiting for the Last Tear to Fall” or “Gonna Make Changes”. Fifteen years is the difference between listening to lyrics and living them.

“I’m tired. I’m tired. Those of you that I love know who you are. May God bless you.” Those were the words of Phyllis Hymans’ suicide note.  Simple words that we all feel. Not through manipulation did she tell stories every woman will learn by heart. Whatever circumstances that did not allow her star to shine among the constellation of her contemporaries-Patti LaBelle, Stephanie Mills, Anita Baker, she absolutely sang the jagged sunshine of love’s nature.  She left for us the stories we live in our hearts: loneliness, confusion, failure coupled with the absurdity of happiness, relief and submission when the love we need is the love we receive.

Spotlight: Phyllis Hyman

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Spotlight: Maxwell

07/22/2010

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Don’t ever wonder…..if this brotha can still make sweat taste sweet. Whether or not he gets as much “babymaking” cred as Barry White and Teddy Pendergrass, he is one of the most original, melodic and sophisticated soul crooners of the 21st century.

In the earlier 90’s, Hip-Hop, West Coast Rap and New Jack style powered R&B radio. In 1996, Maxwell competed with Tupac, R.Kelly, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, The Fugees, Ginuwine and Keith Sweat for positions on the Pop, Rap and R&B charts. But where his contemporaries bragged about raping, robbing, killing and accumulating street life credibility, he was crooning returning to the basics of life: love, and lust. He was Uptown afro-boho elan. He was that kid always rocking no-name gear that suddenly became the hotness just because HE was stylin’ it.  Everybody knew him without knowing a damn thing about him. He was that dude, that cat, that cool-ass mofo everybody touched but could never quite embrace. Who was this cat?

Before Maxwell, a half-smooth, quarter-cool cat could charm the naivete off a preachers daughter with some Manischewitz Blackberry Wine & Olive Garden take-out, Night Queen incense and Keith Sweat.  Despite profit-making success, neither Sweat nor his “drop your drawers” contemporary R.Kelly, possessed a true balladeers voice.  Dismissing the loving nature of his songs, Keith Sweat was accused of whining and begging his way into the bedroom. He lost favor with male fans and was ridiculed out of the R&B slow-drag spotlight.  R. Kelly, having released both 12 Play (1993) and R. Kelly (1995), was busy building bridges of contractions as he produced albums  intertwining sexually aggressive jack-n-jill rhymes with cathartic gospels. The mind behind “Bump-n-Grind” and “I Like the Crotch on You”, delivered an apogean spiritual in “I Believe I Can Fly”.

Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite awakened the Kundalani sensuality absent from soul’s music. In truth, we were probably confused when “Ascencion (Don’t Ever Wonder)” hit R&B radio in Spring 1996. We’d ceded love songs to Luther,  and while Luthers’ genius was without question, he was not an heir to the musical complexity and depth of Marvin or Stevie. The cool heat of his delivery was no match for Barry’s baritone. His refined expressions, and fully clothed head to toe, were a counterpoint to Teddy’s Mandingo superlover persona- half-naked, chocolate sweat dripping down to crotch-straggling hot pants.  Luther was great, but  he was clean. Inasmuch as love songs are about romance, they are also about sex. In real life expression, sexuality is dirty, naughty, lustful and incoherent. Vanilla ice cream has its place, but the fully developed tongue desires more palatial adventures in dining.

Maxwell’s, fluid, mollitious and evocative debut was soul rebirthed at its most voluptuousness. It was sandalwood oil and patchouli incense mixed into Egyptian cotton sheets, stroked dry with Turkish towels, and boozy with fresh fruit and Eiswein.    He had Lenny Kravitz looks, and Smokey Robinson smooth. He gave grace and a grown-man gentleness to the new R&B movement. He was a  welcome antidote to the  heavy rotation of hard rap hegemony of R&B radio. If R. Kelly was the speed-dial “break your back-out” type that handled “meet you at the HoJo” 4am service calls, then Maxwell was The Peninsula, with imported roses, honey-n-milk baths, hot stone massages, and Grand Siecle.

From 1996 through 2001, Maxwell delivered four albums, ripe and indulgent pleasures.  After 2001’s Now, he took a hiatus long enough to make us serious wonder if he and D’Angelo were living on the same island. In his absence the rising contemporary male R&B singers would replace depth and artistry in love songs with empty, juvenile lyrics and hyper-swagger. Love-making was for metrosexuals and sissies. Real men banged it in, tore it up and wore it out.  R.Kelly ascended into unrivaled stardom.  His reductive lyrics and on-stage antics denigrated love. R&B music began to sound like a porn flick soundtrack.

When 2010 bought Maxwell back with BLACKsummers’night, erotic sighs of relief sang from between womens’ legs. Funkier than Maxwell’s fanbase might be used to, its’ first two releases, Pretty Wings &  Bad Habits, reestablished Maxwell’s  grown-man blueprint for smooth seduction.

Spotlight: Maxwell

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