John Legend Finds His Anger

John Legend with the Roots on September 7, 2010

I've never been much of a John Legend fan. To my ears, he's too damned polite; decent Sunday brunch music perhaps, but entirely middle of the road. Safe. Nice. Harmless. He's clearly in the tradition of upwardly mobile 70's soul - Donnie Hathaway, Roberta Flack, the softer pieces of Marvin Gaye and Curtis Mayfield, and while he may be working in the soul tradition, if you asked me whether the dude has any soul, my answer would have been no.

So I went to last night's John Legend/Roots show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg more excited to see the Roots, well actually, Questlove, than hear anything off of their upcoming album. Wake Up. And indeed, the show was mainly a polite affair, only confirming many of my feelings about Legend.

But for the last song of the main set, they went into a version of Bill Withers' "I Can't Write Left-Handed,"from Withers' classic Live At Carnegie Hall, and a transformation took place. The song, written from the point of view of a wounded Vietnam Vet, was one of the best anti-war songs of its era, and in recreating it in an era of war all the time around the world, both Legend and the Roots got way beyond the polite. 

Legend sunk his teeth into the song; in taking on singing for someone else, he gave himself the freedom to not be nice, to give voice to rage, sorrow, and resentment. He moaned, yelled, shouted and caressed his own aggression. He pounded his piano, responding to the anguish in his vocals with thunderous and jazzy little runs. It was revelatory.

The Roots, who had played within themselves all night, like a great basketball player told that they can only do lay-ups and not dunk, finally let loose, and began to tear it up, especially guitarist "Captain" Kirk Douglas who played with both speed and suppleness, elevating the tension with each pass through the chorus. Questlove, who had the visage of a funeral director for most of the night, finally began to beam with a grin as he and Legend looked at each other and kept taking it higher. Each time I thought the song might be concluded, they attacked once more, and when they finally finished, the crowd erupted in both release and appreciation. They came to do an encore, but it was really superfluous - nothing else was necessary.

I came away with a new opinion of John Legend. I still feel no need to put his albums on, but I'm far more interested to hear what he does next - perhaps what's been missing in his music up until now is anger, an anger that would curb his tendency for syrup, and would make his realm of romance far more powerful and earned. And for the question, is John Legend soulful, I have a new answer. His music by and large may not be soulful, but down deep, the man has soul.

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.