Typically for I’d Love to Turn You On we wait until an album is ten years old
before it becomes eligible for the column - it has to be something largely passed
over in its initial release to qualify, and with time we’re better able to
assess whether it holds water in the long run, rather just having an impressive
initial impact that fades quickly. But this album turns nine in 2017 and I
can’t wait until 2018 for it to officially be eligible.
Raphael
Saadiq was a member of and the primary songwriter for the late 80s/early 90s
neo-soul outfit Tony! Toni! Toné!, who scored a number of hits with their
modern/retro soul before he left the group to pursue his own vision. His solo
records in the wake of the group followed a similar pattern - classic soul
influence with modern production styles and genre excursions to stay afloat in
the current music field. However, in preparing this record he went decidedly
old school. This unabashed throwback shows not just in the songwriting style -
songs are kept as short and punchy as prime Motown - but even down to mike
placement, recording equipment, and engineering approach (he studied records
and session information of both Motown and The Beatles to help approximate the
feel of the classic recordings). And Saadiq created the songs in the same
one-man-band fashion that Stevie Wonder did – recording layers by playing the
instruments (a typical song’s credits reads “Raphael Saadiq - vocals, guitar,
bass, drums”), then embellishing the results with session players (strings, horns,
percussion, occasional other instruments) and a high-profile guest here and
there (Joss Stone, Jay-Z, and Wonder himself).
placement, recording equipment, and engineering approach (he studied records
and session information of both Motown and The Beatles to help approximate the
feel of the classic recordings). And Saadiq created the songs in the same
one-man-band fashion that Stevie Wonder did – recording layers by playing the
instruments (a typical song’s credits reads “Raphael Saadiq - vocals, guitar,
bass, drums”), then embellishing the results with session players (strings, horns,
percussion, occasional other instruments) and a high-profile guest here and
there (Joss Stone, Jay-Z, and Wonder himself).
But
all the recording technique and study in the world would mean nothing if Saadiq
had not written great songs – and he has, twelve of them in fact. This is his
finest album, solo or with his former group, and he honors the musicians he
studied by producing an album that can hold its own against the classics. It
kicks off right with one of the album’s best and catchiest cuts, “Sure Hope You
Mean It,” a gorgeous uptempo number which leads right into “100 Yard Dash,”
another fast, catchy one that continues the first song’s love longings with a
stronger beat pushing it along. He shifts gears slightly for “Keep Marchin’”
which from the title sounds like it could be an homage to the Civil Rights Era
music that he’s drawing on, but paints a broader stroke lyrically as a song of
uplift in the face of adversity, like the regular album’s superb closer “Sometimes.”
The time warp we’ve experienced thus far in feeling like we could be listening
to an album straight out of 1965 shifts slightly with “Big Easy.” Not in sound
– Saadiq is still deep in his Holland-Dozier-Holland craft – but in the lyrics,
which tell of a love lost in New Orleans, his baby not coming back. Even that
could’ve been from the past, but the setting isn’t just New Orleans, it’s New
Orleans in the immediate aftermath of Katrina, and the song is a heartbreaker
because his baby may not be coming back for the most devastating of reasons.
And so it proceeds: “Just One Kiss,” “Love That Girl,” “Let’s Take A Walk,”
“Never Give You Up” – all as melodic, direct and forthright as the classic love
songs they evoke. “Calling” is the first time he plays his hand a little
differently, with Rocio Mendoza’s Spanish-language verses uncommon for the era
that most of the record evokes but just right for 2008. And a couple other
times small touches take us out of the vibe – the sitar on the great “Oh Girl”
puts us up toward 1973 or so, and Jay-Z’s cameo on the bonus remix of the same
song couldn’t have come at any time other than the 2000s. And then there’s
“Staying in Love,” which he claims is about music and staying true to your own
artistic vision, but certainly could be grouped with the above love songs for
most of us.
The time warp we’ve experienced thus far in feeling like we could be listening
to an album straight out of 1965 shifts slightly with “Big Easy.” Not in sound
– Saadiq is still deep in his Holland-Dozier-Holland craft – but in the lyrics,
which tell of a love lost in New Orleans, his baby not coming back. Even that
could’ve been from the past, but the setting isn’t just New Orleans, it’s New
Orleans in the immediate aftermath of Katrina, and the song is a heartbreaker
because his baby may not be coming back for the most devastating of reasons.
And so it proceeds: “Just One Kiss,” “Love That Girl,” “Let’s Take A Walk,”
“Never Give You Up” – all as melodic, direct and forthright as the classic love
songs they evoke. “Calling” is the first time he plays his hand a little
differently, with Rocio Mendoza’s Spanish-language verses uncommon for the era
that most of the record evokes but just right for 2008. And a couple other
times small touches take us out of the vibe – the sitar on the great “Oh Girl”
puts us up toward 1973 or so, and Jay-Z’s cameo on the bonus remix of the same
song couldn’t have come at any time other than the 2000s. And then there’s
“Staying in Love,” which he claims is about music and staying true to your own
artistic vision, but certainly could be grouped with the above love songs for
most of us.
But
mainly, Saadiq decided to cast a spell to transport us backward and it works
beautifully, beginning to end. It works because he wrote terrific songs; it
works because he did his homework to make them sound superb – as crisp, clear,
and catchy as their predecessors; and it works because he’s musician enough to
pull off the one-man-band trick that R&B geniuses from Stevie Wonder to
Prince mastered before him. He followed this masterstroke three years later
with the excellent Stone Rollin’
(which takes us from 1965 to somewhere more like 1971) but he hasn’t released a
solo album since, preferring to focus his talents on soundtrack work (Luke Cage and the TV series Empire among others) and songwriting and
production work for others (recently on Solange Knowles’ widely acclaimed A Seat At the Table). For now though,
we’ve got this album and it’s tided me over just fine for just about nine years
already.
-
Patrick Brown
