BOBBY WOMACK: THE BRAVEST MAN IN THE UNIVERSE (2012)
1) The Bravest Man In The
Universe; 2) Please Forgive My Heart; 3) Deep River; 4) Dayglo Reflection; 5)
Whatever Happened To The Times; 6) Stupid Introlude; 7) Stupid; 8) If There
Wasn't Something There; 9) Love Is Gonna Lift You Up; 10) Nothin' Can Save Ya;
11) Jubilee (Don't Let Nobody Turn You Around).
Flip forward almost thirty years. For almost a
decade after his Beverly Glen albums, Bobby went on riding from one short-lived
record contract with a little-known label to another, releasing albums that
never charted, rarely attracted any (positive) critical attention, and went out
of print so quickly that, in the end, I sort of gave up upon trying to locate
them, especially since there is relatively little hope that the chase would be
well worth the catch. Then, after 1994's boldly titled Resurrection (which was anything but), he ceased writing songs
altogether, and, apart from a Christmas album from time to time, sank into near-complete
seclusion — not that I blame him at all, considering the dire fate of modern R&B,
a genre Bobby had worked so much for.
Then something really weird happened, one of
those accidental turns of events that generate an auspicious opportunity — none
other than Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz fame contacted Bobby with a
suggestion to work together. Apparently, the man was a fan of Womack's classic
material, yet simply being a fan is one thing, and actually going out all the
way is quite another: an Albarn / Womack collaboration, without prior notice,
would be quite an unlikely combination. It was Bobby's daughter (a closet
Gorillaz fan?) who convinced her father to accept the invitation, and this first
led to Bobby adding vocals to several Gorillaz tracks — and then, in return, to
Albarn co-writing and co-producing a brand new Bobby Womack album, his first
and, so far, only one in the 21st century.
Based on this information alone, you can easily
tell without even hearing it that The
Bravest Man In The Universe would be somewhat of a «special» record.
Critics fell all over it, not necessarily because they loved it, but probably
because they'd never heard anything quite like it. And, indeed, the record
defies simple analysis — each of its ingredients is not at all special or even all
that good in itself, but together, Albarn and Womack create a puzzling
combination that you can love or hate, but cannot ignore.
Almost in its entirety, the album is electronic
— loops, beats, cycles, lots of programming, the usual thing, not too
surprising, considering that it all stemmed from Gorillaz anyway. On top of
these electronic grooves, which are usually moody and minimalistic, Womack
records his vocal melodies — shaky and a bit gargly in an elderly manner, but
still capable of an emotional grip — to work out a series of reflections on
life, love, the past, the future, man's destiny, and even on those who use the
Lord's name in vain, ʽStupidʼ being his lyrical answer to Genesis' ʽJesus He
Knows Meʼ, in a way. The two are aided in this (un)godly mix by Albarn's
co-worker Richard Russell, and big trendy femme-fatale™ star Lana del Rey makes
a guest appearance on ʽDayglo Reflectionʼ; other than that, the studio is empty
— quite an unusual deal for Bobby.
Does it «work»? I don't know. In all honesty, I
would say that it doesn't. It is intriguing to see Albarn take the old chum in
the studio and provide him with a background of drum machines, bleeps, pings,
and synthesized sonic veils (he does play some live instruments from time to
time, too, but they are not so much upfront) — but none of this stuff seems
tailor-made to suit Bobby's style. The electronic and vocal melodies are synchronized, yet it is hard for me
to imagine Bobby drawing actual inspiration from these sounds and using it for
his own vocal delivery. Albarn says that he gave instrumental demos to Womack,
who would then write lyrics around them — I do wonder what those demos were and
whether they were not simply played on acoustic guitar, because it is hard for
me to imagine Bobby putting lyrics and vocal melodies on top of these electronic
arrangements. (It is even harder for me to imagine Bobby, with his life-long
penchant for guitar and funky groove, liking
Albarn's and Russell's production, but at least officially he did).
Nevertheless, at least these arrangements try
to be creative, unlike, say, the generic Eighties production on The Poet series — the title track, for
instance, puts a thin, moody veil of strings and some minimalistic piano
tinkles on top of the programmed percussion, giving the song an ambient feel,
that is, something previously unthinkable for a Bobby Womack song. The title is
formally cut out of the song's refrain — "the bravest man in the universe
is the one who has forgiven first" — but could easily be seen to refer to
Bobby himself, of course, as it must have taken him quite a bit of bravery to
go along with such a radical reinvention of himself.
«Classic» Bobby makes a brief appearance on the
traditional tune ʽDeep Riverʼ, where the man is featured solo with an acoustic
guitar — barely two minutes in all, just to give us a brief reminder of what it
used to be like, yet it manages to take a good shot at winning top prize in
that short time span, especially when placed next to ʽDayglo Reflectionʼ, a
self-consciously «mystical-romantic» composition where the main hero is not
Bobby, but rather the perfidiously crowned «siren of the 2010s», large-lipped
lady Lana del Rey that, according to everything I've heard and seen of her, is
the perfect embodiment of phoniness in «sensual pop art».
Unfortunately, this is not the only song where
there is too much going on and not nearly enough Bobby Womack — upbeat «dance»
tunes like ʽLove Is Gonna Lift You Upʼ and ʽJubileeʼ also sound more like
Albarn and Russell's take on making an electronic facsimile of classic R&B
than songs that merit and justify Womack's presence on them. (ʽJubileeʼ is kinda fun, though, with its big badass
bass drum pounding out the tribal beat like crazy — the one track on the album
where, instead of scratching or wracking your head, you might just be tempted
to lose it for a bit.).
But on most of the ballads, Bobby does sing as
if he cared, and his ruminations on the world, the times, and even the
exorbitant fake preachers sound exactly like they should — troubled, but
tightly controlled and technically sound confessions of a worn and torn, but
still viable old man. Actually, the age is only being betrayed by a little
extra hoarseness and maybe just a tad lessened range (which was never that big
to begin with): no decrepit relic here, even if he has to struggle a bit to
strike out the anger necessary to fuel ʽStupidʼ (that's the one about the
preachers).
I give the album a thumbs up, first and foremost, not
for «quality» as such, but for its unusualness (I was going to write «novelty
factor», but we are talking of a feat rather than a gimmick here, so that might
be a little demeaning). The very fact that something like this came out in 2012
deserves recognition — and, let's face it, it could have been worse in all possible
respects (even Lana del Rey at least has her own brand of phoniness, where they
could have invited some completely faceless chick instead, out of millions
available). The Bravest Man In The
Universe should not be judged as a collection of songs — it's more of an
experimental modern art lick on an old canvas, where some will pretend to going
gaga over the modern art, while others will simply admire the good old art of weaving
canvas. Personally, I'm just glad the old guy can still sing with so much
feeling — and a big thank you to Damon Albarn at least for ensuring that the
arrangements always stay minimalistic enough to let that voice soar and flutter
all over them.
Check "The Bravest Man In The Universe" (CD) on Amazon
Check "The Bravest Man In The Universe" (MP3) on Amazon
On youtube there is a version of Love is gonna lift you up performed by BW & DA on Later with Jools Holland which is well worth watching. Played with live instrumetns (well piano anyway). The live element really gives something to the song which brings it to life in a way that I think the album version does not.
ReplyDeletePerhaps the live element, having an audience there with them, (including of course, an audience of musicians, given the setting) gives a fusion to the contrasting elements of the song rather than the jarring contrast (Womack versus the machines) that is present on the album?
I was due to see Bobby Womack live (In Dublin 3rd on a bill with Tom Jones & Van Morrison) supporting the album and was very interested in seeing more of the album in a live setting. Alas, due to illness (which unfortunately he succumbed to shortly after - your phrase "..a brand new Bobby Womack album, his first and, so far, only one in the 21st century." struck a somber note as I read it- he cancelled the performance (though Sinead O'Connor did perform instead).
One point in relation to the juxtaposition of styles/era's/generations involved in this collaboration, I think that has become something of a trend and was certainly happening elsewhere at the time... I call to mind Dr. Johns excellent album Locked Down, produced by Dan Auerbach as an example... and I know there are other examples, but alas the grey matter has been dimmed a little by the water of life!