Voodoo

It must have been difficult to match his debut (and the frequent delays prove it was on his mind), but Voodoo is just as rewarding a soul album as D'Angelo's first.

In terms of twenty-first century soul, R&B and funk - even blues - it is utterly without compare.

Sly Stone is the motivator on the opening track 'Playa Playa' ... Eddie Kendricks' pipes, Prince's balladry, Stevie Wonder's drive and Gaye are all reference points on what, overall, is a darker, moodier record.

The songs have depth, and there is inspired, adventurous song writing with perfectly balanced production.

Five years after his groundbreaking Brown Sugar debut, D'Angelo returns, displaying unchallenged levels of inventiveness, risk-taking, and diversity.

If you’re looking for an antidote to the processed-cheese disease that’s infected today’s pop, a little bit o’ Voodoo is just what the witch doctor ordered.

To simply call D'Angelo's work neo-classic soul, as per corporate diktat, would be reductive, for that would be to ignore the elements of vaudeville jazz, Memphis horns, ragtime blues, funk and bass grooves, not to mention hip-hop, that slip out of every pore of these 13 haunted songs.

What's so remarkable about his sophomore set, Voodoo, is how utterly spare it is. Rather than the usual R&B bombast of bellowed, off-key singing and garish arrangements, everything is hinted at, from D'Angelo's multi-tracked vocals to Roy Hargrove's elliptical horn lines.

The kind of smoky grooves that could be expected of a Cheeba Sound release ... In short, Voodoo has what so many modern r&b records lack: soul.

D'Angelo may have made his audience wait five years for the follow-up to his acclaimed debut Brown Sugar, but it serves as a timely panacea for the increasingly moribund genre of "urban" R&B.

The problem is, Voodoo sounds so loose and unfinished, it floats right off into the clouds.

An album long awaited and unfairly charged with alleviating the pervasive shite of male r&b which delivers one massive diamond and some uncut gems.