Time Stood Still: D'Angelo and The Vanguard gives us 'Black Messiah'

           

          Scrolling through Instagram on December 12, 2014, I came across an a photo by North Carolina producer 9^th Wonder (follow him!), the photo showed a copy of a new album by D’Angelo titled Black Messiah. Judging by the comments underneath the picture and my own reaction, it seemed like another Internet troll. Later on when a 15 second YouTube video teased the album, along with a confirming tweet from none other than Soulquarian patriarch ?uestlove, it became official: D’Angelo was about to resurface to the public with an album 14 years after Voodoo. Within the next few days the album would be released on ITunes to the shock of many and less than 24 hours after it’s NYC listening party. By midnight on December 15^th I had bought and downloaded an album, and upon listening to the project, realized that an artist that had been in seclusion had arrived back on the scene at the right time with the right music.

            Black Messiah returns D’Angelo to the spotlight that he had left after the critical and commercial high of 2000’s Voodoo, an album that took five years to make after his debut Brown Sugar birthed the Neo-Soul genre. In a recent interview with D’Angelo, he dismisses the genre itself, not because of the music and its offspring associated with it, but because of the box that it puts his music in. After Brown Sugar, artists such as Maxwell, Erykah Badu, and Lauryn Hill were pushed to the forefront of soul, but D’Angelo was right; it placed all of them in a box. By the release of Voodoo in 2000, the music was so far removed from the sound of his debut, that it became a hard pill to swallow for even the most loyal of fans. Voodoo was great album however, and in today’s climate a classic, but it was different in the boundaries that it pushed. Even “Co-Pilot” to Voodoo, ?uestlove admitted to having to play to “gutter bucket” levels to play a more raw sound to D’Angelos liking. That raw sound added to D’Angelos cohesive sophomore effort, but the album didn’t receive its massive praise until the music video for “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Depicting himself unclothed with a one-shot camera zooming out just past the waist, D’Angelo was now a sex symbol. While this was standard for the likes of Usher and Ginuwine at the time, D’Angelo wanted to be known for his art and the video came to haunt him as the tour for Voodoo went on. Women only wanted him for his body as opposed to the music, and this often led to the “Neo-Soul Pioneer” to scold at his audience.

            After the Voodoo tour, D’Angelo went into seclusion, and days turned into months, months to years, until a 2005 mug shot showed a heavy set D’Angelo arrested for drugs and picking up a prostitute. By this time music in general was at a standstill. Not only from a commercial standpoint, but also more importantly from an artistic one. Contemporaries such as Lauryn Hill and Maxwell were also on hiatus; hip-hop was way past its creative peak into the 90’s, and R&B was chasing creative less Hip-Hop for inspiration. With artists such as James Brown, Prince, and Sly Stone past their prime, no one was there now to pick up where they left off.

The few artists that were out during the 00’s didn’t quite have much to say (or at least didn’t say much). During the presidency of George W. Bush, as people complained about the state of the world, people be it artists or consumers alike got comfortable.  Upon the presidential election of Barack Obama in 2008, there was a feeling of change in the air, but it wasn’t fully grasped by our fellow artists. Sure there were records such as the underrated 2010 album by John Legend & The Roots Wake Up, But nothing brought upon the true feelings of the time into sound. Maybe perhaps our people in general were living in illusions, and it wasn’t until the recent murders of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner that the public finally accepted that there were some serious problems that were being glossed over in the black community. Sure, artists such as Talib Kweli, Dead Prez, and even recent Public Enemy music still were addressing these issues, but Black Messiah is bringing back the feeling that made the protests of the ‘60s urgent.

Now on to this album …

            Black Messiah was originally titles James River, but if you listen to the music, the new title fits appropriatlly. The backup band this time around is called The Vanguard, featuring fellow Soulquarian ?uestlove, as well as Pino Palladino, Jon Blackwell, Jesse Jackson, and the albums primary co-writer Kendra Foster. Instead of talking directly about Ferguson, Missouri, D’Angelo states “All we wanted was a chance to talk/’Stead we only got outlined in chalk” on “The Charade” a song that gives you a Phillies sound reminiscent of the Gamble & Huff days. This could be due to the drums of ?uestlove, whom also shows up for a majority of the album. It’s on “Charade” that the bass drives the track to another dimension. This is the to the talents of Pino Palladino Another politically charged record is “1000 Deaths”, where D’Angelo handles much of the instrumentation with drums by ?uestlove and vocals by himself. The best part of the song is the distorted lyrics aligning with the heavy percussion work. According to sound BM sound engineer Ben Kane, the track was conceived when D’Angelo saw a Fishbone concert a few years back. The song’s highlight is at the very beginning with the VHS sample of Dr. Khalid Muhammad and a documentary film about Fred Hampton joined together. The sample sets you up for anger and rebellion.

            At other times D’Angelo does self-reflection with ?uestlove’s drums and guitar riffs on “Back To The Future (Part 1), reminiscing on his hometown, and the physical shape that depicted him in his 2005 mug shot. On this track D’Angelo sings that he “Used to get real high, now I, now I’m just getting a buzz”. “Till It’s Done (Tutu)” brings D’Angelo to sing about questions of where we as a people come from and  even then what we become as a result. Topics, such as war and pollution come about as it is asked as a whole society of flesh, what are we fighting for? 

           Much credit to the album has to be given to Kendra Foster who helped write a majority of the songs with the artist. Foster along with Paladino, ?uestlove, and Q-Tip help bring D'Angelo's vision to light and makes this project an extraordinary collaborative effort. The sound of the album is even nostalgic to the days of vinyl recordings due to BM being made using only analog tape for recording,making the listener hear small details to shape your listening experience. Credit goes to engineer Russell Elevado for this aspect, bringing to light a sound that music no longer has but is in need of

            Love is another central theme within the album. Interestingly, the messages within the love that D’Angelo sings goes deeper than a person, but of loving oneself. Songs such as the whistling melody of “The Door” have a nice groove. The guitar synth riding to the drums in “Ain’t That Easy” is a good opening to the album, in fact it was co-written by Q-Tip, who also lends his pen game to the raunchy and funky “Sugah Daddy”. The two biggest highlights on the album however are “Really Love” and “Another Life”, the latter being D’Angelo’s best vocal performance on record since 1995’s “Cruisin”.  “Really Love” starts with dark strings courtesy of Brent Fisher and a Spanish dialogue, before going into the slow drums and guitar, as D’Angelo longs for his other half.

            While Black Messiah seems as if it’s christening D with a revolutionary title, it’s not; The album’s linear notes (which can be downloaded along with the booklet on D’Angelo’s website) clarifies that we are all black messiahs. If music such as this can get us on the right path, the 14-year wait by D’Angelo was worth it. It’s like time stood still and D’Angelo never left.