“SOLDIER OF LOVE,” Sade (Epic/Sony)
A quarter of a century after “Smooth Operator” and a decade after her last new album (“Lovers Rock”), Sade is back in the trenches with “Soldier of Love.” The Nigerian-born Brit again uses her favorite weapon, subtle passion, on her customary battlefield, languid jazz-pop. And the result is largely the same as every other time she has ventured into this arena.
One might wonder why Sade, 51, keeps fighting this war … except that it’s clear this combat zone doubles as her comfort zone.
Her mode of drowsy seduction remains effective on “Soldier of Love,” though it isn’t always packaged appropriately. A stilted groove disrupts the blues-ish riff and percolation of opener “The Moon and the Sky,” for example, distracting from her sauntering tone. Meanwhile, Sade is prone to an air of soullessness brought about by lyrical ambivalence combined with her steady-on vocal delivery that rarely betrays a specific mood. Even on the title track, her declarations that, “I’ve lost the use of my heart, but I’m still alive” and, “Still waiting for love to come, turn it all around,” are offered unemotionally, prompting little feelings of sympathy.
Regardless, “Soldier of Love” is predominately gorgeous – from the beautifully solemn “Morning Bird” underscored by gracious piano, to a “Skin” marked by a discernible bump as she embraces the notion of freedom. Textured understatement rules, percolating with near-subliminal soul on the sweet storytelling of “Babyfather, snuggling up to the sax-and-string warmth in the heartbreaking “In Another Time” (“So tired of waiting for something to change”) and embedding reassurance in the ominous atmosphere of “Long Hard Road.”
On closing track “The Safest Place,” Sade states the obvious: “My heart has been a lonely warrior before.”
Remarkably, she shows few signs of battle fatigue.
Rating (five possible): 3-1/2
Pantha Du Prince’s ‘Black Noise’ shaded with lightness
“BLACK NOISE,” Pantha Du Prince (Rough Trade)
Imagine you are a tourist in a quaint foreign town. You duck into an unusual New Age/Wicca-ish gift shop for a moment’s diversion. Inside is an assortment of wind chimes, rain chimes, sun chimes, antique music boxes and varied percussive instruments. Next door is an electronic lounge where the music is more electro-cocktail-happy-hour than full-on dance; the walls are insulated, but you hear the hum and grind coming through the closer you approach.
That’s essentially the “Black Noise” experience from Pantha Du Prince.
The delicate, sometimes minimalist sounds from Pantha Du Prince, aka Germany’s Hendrick Weber, elicit a sense of tranquility and spirituality, an organic-rooted experience to conjure a feeling of oneness with earth. The electronic layers, which vary in heft and dimension, add cadence to the mysticism.
“Black Noise” is initially enchanting as what feels like a symphony of unknown objects – metallic, wooden and glass – seem to fall against each other in a pattern dictated by a gently persuasive electric hum. Opening cuts “Lay in a Shimmer,” “Abglanz” and “The Splendour” maximize the effect from Pantha Du Prince’s restrictive method as they gracefully glide along in fluid succession.
Perhaps sensing the need to mix it up, Pantha Du Prince then takes a worst-of-Enigma path and brings aboard terribly cheesy vocals (by Animal Collective’s Noah Lennox) for “Stick to My Side,” which drags on for nearly 8 minutes. His mid-album slump continues with more rote electronica on “A Nomad’s Retreat” and “Satellite Snyper.”
He pulls out of it, however, first with an otherworldly/primitive “Behind the Stars,” followed by gems such as a politely pulsing “Bohemian Forest” that gets denser the farther in it goes and a soothing “Welt Am Draht.”
You might spend more time in Pantha Du Prince’s “shop” than you planned and you won’t buy everything you see. But you also won’t be sorry you came.
Rating: 3-1/2
Meaghan Smith soars with clear voice. clear head
“THE CRICKET’S ORCHESTRA,” Meaghan Smith (Sire)
Meaghan Smith explores dark territory on “The Cricket’s Orchestra,” but she approaches it with a bright perspective.
Smith takes a sidelong look at dysfunctional relationships and gives them a wink from the point of view of someone who is over most of the pain but still hurts enough to throw a retaliatory jab or two.
The up-tempo “Take Me Dancing” exemplifies the approach as Smith issues a spirited call for one last dance in a relationship in what might be the happiest breakup, ever: “Hold me close, then push me away/Mess me up for old time’s sake!” Against a background of supporting vocals that coo and sigh on “Heartbroken,” the clear-minded (if fragile) Smith sings about her crushed heart, “What’s the use in fixing what will kill me in the end?” When she finds out an ex has busted out of jail on “You Got Out,” she wryly sings, “I can’t waste my time sittin’/I gotta be somebody new and disappear.” And before “If You Asked Me” blows up in a brassy finale, she describes the object of her affection as a rake, but adds, “Boy, I would say yes if you asked me/Come on and ask me!”
Produced by Les Cooper, the Canadian singer/songwriter’s jazz/big band-influenced release sounds terrific, puffed up with vintage reverence from a full contingent of horns, strings and bossy keyboards (piano and organ) and then infused with surrealism through quirky effects from Mellotrons and Omnichords. And whether the dulcet-sounding Smith is pondering red flags as she awaits a tardy suitor on “Soft Touch” or gets carried away in the la-la-la-la-la optimism of “Poor,” there’s always an inviting lilt in her voice.
This is the kind of breakup album that recently singled folks need to console them. It might not be realistic, but it’s healthy.
Rating: 4
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