Corinne Bailey Rae's Magical Thinking

Corinne Bailey Rae's first, self-titled album was a breezy affair, a collection of open and friendly neo-soul songs that worked well enough to earn her a wide-ranging following and to go double platinum in the U.S. But that was in 2006, and for her, that's a lifetime ago.

In 2008, Rae's husband, musician Jason Rae, died, and it's in that aftermath that she has just released The Sea, a meditation on grief, pain and living amidst the ghosts of memory. It's also a joyous affair, but it's a joy very much tempered with the edge of death, which simultaneously makes it subdued and truly beautiful. It's a magnificent album, one that pays off with repeat listens, as its subtleties open and give themselves over to the terrible and miraculous wonder that is living.

The Sea has a harder sound than Rae's debut. Rae's vocals are a bit buried in the mix; the guitars have an occasional growl and the bass sometimes throbs with a malevolent intent. It is less a sound of foreboding than it is about the sound of pain realized. Yet there's no ploy for anyone's sympathy. On the album's first single, "I'd Do It All Again," she sings like a late-period Marvin Gaye, defiantly revealing her hurt and vulnerability while declaring that despite her pain, she wouldn't change a damn thing:

"Someone to love is bigger than your pride's worth
It's bigger than the pain you got, for all it hurts
It outruns all the sadness
It's terrifying light to the darkness
And I'd do it all again"

Even better is "The Blackest Lily," easily the toughest and sexiest Rae song has ever recorded. You can feel the lingering memory of lust pervade every nuance of Rae's vocal, where that lust transformed into love - and where finally, she lost it. This is adult music, and it's music that's vaguely uncomfortable, like watching someone strip in front of your eyes, simply to show you who they really are.

It seems a cliche that great soul music comes from something more than a passing acquaintance with pain, but cliches are cliches for a reason - they're usually true. The Sea, Corinne Bailey Rae has made her version of a truly soulful album, one that does what the best of soul has always done - unflinchingly acknowledging life's most devastating blows, while also experiencing their terrible and magical ecstasy.

The Sea - Corinne Bailey Rae

Al Green: Lay It Down

Let’s get this out of the way: Al Green’s new album, Lay It Down, is not a return to the form of his 1973 masterwork Call Me or the flawed genius of 1977’s The Belle Album. It doesn’t have a song on the level of “Let’s Stay Together,” “Love and Happiness” or “Tired of Being Alone.” It simmers rather than burns. And with that said…

Lay It Down is a lovely album that is probably his best since he returned to recording secular music in the mid-90’s. Producers Ahmir (?uestlove) Thompson (The Roots) and James Poser (Common, Erykah Badu) use Green’s and producer Willie Mitchell's mid-70’s sonic template, but rather than creating a completely retro-vibe, they do a fine job of making that classic Memphis sound feel modern and present. ?uestlove, the finest drummer of his generation, does an especially impressive job emulating the subtle restraint and groove of Stax drummer Al Jackson, Jr., one of the greatest drummers ever and a key component of Green’s greatest records in the 70’s. The Dap-King horns (of Amy Winehouse and Sharon Jones fame) punctuate the proceedings nicely without being obtrusive and the strings shimmer. It’s a recreation of a sound without being regurgitation of one.

But let’s face it – given that the songs, with the exception of “Just For Me,” do not exactly imprint themselves upon the brain, the album works for one main reason – that one-of-a-kind voice. Al has lost little-to-nothing of his range and to hear his falsetto whoops, gravelly assertions and sanctified moans is a slice of soul heaven. John Legend, Anthony Hamilton and Corinne Bailey Rae appear on the album, adding a bit of marketing heft and little else; they all acquit themselves nicely and sound somewhat unnecessary. Bailey Rae, especially, lacks the sensuality to make "Take Your Time" something more than just nice. But hey - marketing is marketing.

There’s a phenomenon in record reviews that I call “Rolling Stones Syndrome.” Basically, it’s when a legend comes out with an album, the reviews say it’s the “best thing they’ve done since [insert classic album title here].” I can’t say for certain whether Lay It Down is the best album he’s done since his classic period. It's almost an impossible standard to live up to. But simply hearing Al Green sing well is one of the great pleasures of life on this planet – and for that alone, I’m happy to have Lay It Down to listen to.