By stylishly melding pop and hip-hop in his 1988 breakthrough, Don't Be Cruel, Brown hit upon a sound heavy enough for the homeboys, silky enough for the suburbs. The resulting new jack swing, though largely the creation of producer Teddy Riley, launched one of the bigger crossover commotions since Prince started talking dirty.
So naturally expectations are raised for Brown's long-awaited second album. Like Michael Jackson coming back with Dangerous four years after Bad, Brown finds the cutting edge has moved on. Instead of stropping up a new sound—or catching up, as Jackson tried to do—Brown has reached into his old bag of tricks. Bobby is Don't Be Cruel meets the best of New Edition.
Not to say it isn't fun. "Humpin' Around," the kickin' first single, quickly became a No. 1 R&B hit. "Two Can Play That Game" has the same potential. But in that song, Brown is all hollow bravado, protesting too much: "Don't get me wrong, cause I was never gone/ It was here all along, see my flavor stands strong..."
Was the layoff too long? Did star status—or newlywed's bliss—induce complacency? In "Something in Common," destined to be a much scrutinized cut, the singer teams with his new wife, Whitney Houston. The result is an up-from-the-streets echo of Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme. "I know I may have made mistakes before," croons Bobby. "I'll be strong, when he's weak," pledges Whitney. Family values goes hip-hop? The whole thing's enough to put a hole in your soul. (MCA)
Vijaya Anand
The first in the Asia Classics series on David Byrne's Luaka Bop label at Warner is a deliriously dance-able mix of Southern Indian film scores by composer-arranger Anand. In Tamil, a language of Southern India, Anand means Ecstasy, and that is what's poured into these zany, tumultuous arrangements, which spice Indian harmonies with reverbs and synthesizers, not to mention guitars, violins, horns and sitars. Over this riot of sound flows a torrent of lyrics delivered in a kind of new wave sing-song that is both catchy and corny—and, in its way, addicting.
Ofra Haza
For all the tensions that roil the Middle East, the musics of the region have long shared an undulating minor-key sensuality and a hypnotic rhythmic drive that transcend ethnic barriers. No one expresses this passionate commonality better than Haza. A 33-year-old whose parents were airlifted to Israel with other Yemenite Jews in 1949, she grew up in the slums of Tel Aviv, began performing with a protest theater group at 12 and is now an Israeli superstar of international repute—a triple threat in Israeli movies, TV and recordings.
Americans are perhaps only familiar with her wailing cry as sampled on the 1987 rap hit "Pump Up the Volume." Working in Los Angeles with her manager and writing partner, Bezalel Aloni, and producer Don Was, Haza has now married the coiling quarter-tone melodies of traditional Yemenite folk music to the crisp electronics of modern dance-pop in a remarkably satisfying fusion.
On the title track of this, her third American album (22nd overall), Haza praises the beauty and sacredness of Kirya (an ancient Hebrew nickname for Jerusalem) but laments that "so many of our sons have to die every day because of you." Although her messages of peace and mutual respect—sung in Hebrew, Aramaic and English—simplify complex issues, the spiritual power of her incantatory songs seems to make almost anything seem possible. (Shanachie)
Youssou N'Dour
Papa Wemba
For most African pop musicians, like Zairian star Papa Wemba, going global means moving to the sophisticated disco scene of Paris. But the slick Eurodisco production that the city is known for can rob roots music of its individuality. Resisting this temptation, Senegal's Youssou N'Dour has kept his ears open to new sounds while staying rooted in Dakar and his city's bustling urban culture.
N'Dour was one of West Africa's most popular performers long before recording with and being produced by Peter Gabriel in the late '80s. He has now taken the production reins into his own hands and come up with a brilliant album, Eyes Open, on Spike Lee's new 40 Acres and a Mule label at Columbia. Mbalax, the frenetic seven-beat rhythmic style at the heart of N'Dour's music, is the armature on which he hangs jazzy horns, bluesy guitar licks, atmospheric synthesizer passages and exotic vocal harmonies.
N'Dour's high, pungent voice slides effortlessly from the conversational to the operatic, from anger and despair to hope and ironic wit. He sings primarily in his native, Arabic-tinged Wolof, with enough English and French to clue foreign audiences.
Pure mbalax is well represented in the wry "Live Television," a satire on the developing world's fascination with global entertainment even while its populace lacks necessities. Not one to miss a beat, either musically or politically, N'Dour is a first-class emissary of contemporary African culture.
As an example of the Paris sound, Wemba's Le Voyageur (EarthBeat!) is also a winner. As elegant in the styling of his smooth tenor as in his choice of top-designer suits, Wemba is the master of the rhumba-rock hybrid called soukous and makes up in danceability what he lacks in gritty social content.
Sinéad O'Connor
Her first two fresh and original albums had intensity, bile and wit. This album has a concept instead. "These are the songs I grew up listening to," she has explained. "They are the songs that made me want to be a singer." Unfortunately she sings them as if she were still a little girl daydreaming in her room in Ireland.
The listless big-band arrangements would put most children, not to mention adults, asleep. She drifts through the vocals, her voice often just a breathy whisper. The flat, affectless "I Wanna Be Loved by You" (immortalized by Marilyn Monroe) is outdulled by her "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" and a soggy, silly, endless "Don't Cry for Me Argentina." The songs don't cohere as a group either, don't amplify and complement each other.
The only time O'Connor seems to be anything but childlike is in her "Success Has Made a Failure of Our Home," first made popular by Loretta Lynn. One can only hope she goes back to writing her own songs or using those by people like Prince, whose work she has truly possessed in the past. (Ensign/Chrysalis)
- Contributors:
- Tim Whitaker,
- Lisa Shea,
- Anthony Kosner,
- Rob Spillmsan.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
