Library - Reviews

MEGAN McLAUGHLIN

Reference: CDnow (http://www.cdnow.com)

Bizarre Fruit

*** M-People, Bizarre Fruit (Epic): M-People consists of one soul diva, two British knob twiddlers and a percussionist name Shovell. Their debut, Elegant Slumming, was one of the best non-greatest-hit dance albums ever, and many of that disc's virtues are apparent on this one. Arrangers Pickering and Heard don't achieve the Wagnerian density and tunefulness of the Pet Shop Boys, but they have a gift for the hook that Anglo-disco generally lacks.

Like New Order (Mr. Pickering was a roadie for New Order precursors Joy Division), they can do enough with a synthesizer to make backing tracks that are, at a minimum, catchy and hummable. Unlike New Order, they're often complemented by a whole range of real instruments, giving the music a grace and elegance (though not complexity) of an old-time big band.

None of this would be terribly noteworthy were it not for the talents of Ms. Small. As a soul singer she lacks the high range of Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston. What she has is a big, BIG! voice and the ability to convey an aura of supreme self-confidence without a bit of swagger. I assume the album title is an ironic update on the Billie Holiday song "Strange Fruit." Like Holiday, Ms. Small's persona is that of a grown-up rather than an emotional adolescent (thankfully, Ms. Small shows none of Holiday's love of the victim role).

The opening track, "Sight for Sore Eyes," is the best number here. Over a sleek arrangement, Ms. Small energizes the banalities of new love, which she compares to a surprise. Her singing is warm, and she comes off as a sexy, forthright (but not salacious) woman rather than a girl-vamp or a gold-digger.

That she is a soul singer for adults is most apparent on the closing track, "Renaissance" (basically a reprise of the debut's "I'm Coming Home") Taking a theme (and scrambling the tag-line) from a vapid Mary Jane Girls hit, Ms. Small threatens her man with more loving than he can handle. There's nothing coquettish about this performance though: singing about how she can knock down the bricks and stones of her lover's house she sounds like she could bust down the walls of Jericho.

The flaws with Bizarre Fruit are in the songwriting. This album has too many unmemorable lyrics about love, brotherhood or social injustice and too many banalities like "You've got to search for the hero inside yourself." No song has as sassy a line as their debut's "take it like a man, baby/if that's what you are" dis. And the melodies, while catchier than typical Anglo-disco, don't have the every-song-a-hit quality of the debut (over half its tracks went UK Top-10). Still, other than Prince B, nobody else is making soul albums this good.

Greg Forman

Reference: Sam's Revenge (http://slt.pobox.com/slt/revenge/recordsfloyd.html)

African-American pop in the '90s has at its heart one essential topic: blackness. Whether it's the heaviest gangsta rap or the fluffiest hip-hop doo-wop, African-American expressions have become defined (some might say stifled) by ever-narrowing concepts of blackness. If your singing doesn't evoke Aaron Hall imitating the Gap Band's Charlie Wilson paying tribute to Stevie Wonder, you ain't black, either. Try busting out of that ghetto, and you'll get your ass so marginalized that most black folks won't ever hear you.

Black Brits have it much easier. Because every black English pop tradition involves appropriating American styles, Afro-Anglos are free to invent themselves in whatever style they want without abandoning the mainstream. Black Brit-pop's relationship to American R&B is analogous to art movies and Hollywood: The money isn't usually as good, but the independent vibe nurtures rule-breaking outsiders, obsessive talents, scholars whose music comments on the history of their craft, and lovable kooks. Black Brit pop is like alternative rock, except the clothes are nicer.

Tricky, Terence Trent D'Arby, and M People represent three archetypal methods of black Brit boundary-breaking. The three don't have much in common stylistically: Tricky creates spooky hip-hop soundtracks of the mind; D'Arby continues to update '70s rock'n'roll soul with '90s attitude; M People create uplifting house music rooted in classic R&B. But they all exist outside the margins of both American black radio and ordinary notions of rock. Although the music press tends to pay lip service only to fleeting English rock trends, the real action takes place where black underground movements intersect with typically British slants on style and its meaning.

[...]

Only one third of M People's core membership is black, but Heather Small's throaty growl is so distinctive it defines anything it touches. Like so many pale Brits, Paul Heard and Hacienda DJ Mike Pickering respect and adore more shades of soul than the interchangeable new jacks that clog U.S. airwaves. Although the instrumentation on Fruit relies on traditional musicianship rather than samples, the riffs and tunes quote liberally from 30 years of American R&B. M People's consistently substantial songs generate much body heat, yet their occasionally lukewarm arrangements cry out for sweaty club versions. This is inevitable. The British were born to remix our history. It's their revenge.

Barry Walters

Reference: SPIN (http://www.musicblvd.com)