I grew up in the South (now known affectionately as “the Dirty South”), where beautiful shit like Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings should be common place. But it ain’t. Sorry. Gone are the days of Sun Records, groove-oriented R&B reviews and good, old-fashioned “foot washin’s” (if you don’t get it, you ain’t from the TRUE South). Now the South is represented by people like DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS, RUEBEN STUDDARD and, sadly, “Dub-yah.” Hey, two outta’ three ain’t bad . . . I guess. The bars are filled with shitty, all-white “blues” bands that can play nothing but sanitized, Clorox bleached, watered-down versions of “Crossroads” (which in itself is, well, you get the idea). I say this as witness to the prosecution, having been a member of one of many “rhythmless” sections back in the day. This is the supposed “New South.” It pretty much stinks to high-ditty shit, but if it were up to me, SHARON JONES AND THE DAP-KINGS would be playing in every Southern restaurant, elevator and car stereo.
Seriously, if you’re not hooked by the first track (“How Do I Let A Good Man Down?”) I officially give up on you as a fucking human being!! The dynamics of this opening song pretty much define SJ&TDK as a powerhouse R&B outfit. The wiry guitar forming a picking rhythm that offsets the heavy bass and drums, which, in effect, lays down a perfect counterpoint to Sharon Jones’ simple, yet effectively tight vocals. It IS “the new/old soul.” However, these troubadours of old soul are more than just some 60’s R&B throwback. At times, it’s like they’re channeling The Manhattans in “You’re Gonna’ Get It,” but then they kick you with an “It’s A Man’s, Man’s, Man’s World” rendition of “This Land is Your Land” (yes, the Woody Guthrie song). It’s a smoother, sometimes more tranquil version of their earlier work, “Dap Dippin’With Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings.” And that is SUCH a good thing. Songs like “Stranded In Your Love” harkens back to time when EVERY soul album would have a talky, man vs. woman radio drama within a song (this one starting with Lee Fields trying to get back into Sharon Jones’ apartment to get his things and ending with a harmonized, bluesy tête-à-tête). This album is the kind of groovy muck that you’d expect to be coming from the car stereo of a Quentin Tarantino character or the 8-track player of the Bluesmobile. In fact, pick up a copy of any of these recent, retro-soul compilations like “Midwest Funk” on Jazzman Records or “Miami Sound” on Soul Jazz (or really ANY Soul Jazz comp) and you’ll find shit from “the day” that isn’t as smooth, polished and downright funky as the DAP-KINGS. And this is coming from the man who LOVES those compilations!! But, again, “Naturally” is so much more than just some retro, R&B poseur review. These guys seem to live, walk, shoot and shit the old school rhythm and blues ethic. This record happily REEKS of 60’s/70’s Motown production values, from the cover art (which is a serious throwback to 70’s era soul albums, down to the chair Sharon Jones sits in to the lamp by her side to the orange outlined font, which matches the aforementioned furniture) to the big and beautiful, empty studio sound. The horn section placed delicately in the background, the Steve Cropper-esque gee-tar plinking crisply in front, the thumping bass drum, reverbed snare and deep, deep, DEEP bass guitar holding it all together. And then there’s Sharon Jones. Arranger Bosco Mann (who also holds down bass, piano, vibes and subsequent tambourine duties) seems to hold special regard for her smooth vocals by putting them just above the instruments, so as to say, “This gorgeous voice is in an on-again, off-again echo chamber because it’s supposed to be ether in the atmosphere. You’re soaking in it.” But she’s hard to peg. I wanna’ say it’s a little Betty Wright, a little Millie Jackson. She’s perfectly competent for this style, but not overly competent. Now, this is not a SLAM. Once again, this fits in the whole old school, R&B mantra. We’re not dealing with Aguilera or some sad sack, American Idol reject, hitting every single fake-ass note on the scale on the way to singing something as simple as “The Star- Spangled Banner.” We’re dealing with the REAL. This is a woman who’s either lived it or lived a little too close to it. There’s not an ounce of affectation in her voice. Every note that comes out is pure. And THAT’S why this record is important. It’s a throwback, but it’s more than that. It’s a look at how things USED to be (and SHOULD be) in the R&B world. There’s no rap in the middle of a bridge, there’s no fake, sampled drumbeat, there’s no posturing. It’s R&B the way it was always intended: with soul. |