On & On

Album review

José James' previous tribute albums, Yesterday I Had the Blues and Lean on Me, differed in setting and perspective in their approach to the music of Billie Holiday and Bill Withers. On & On is as much its own thing. Upon her seismic 1997 arrival with "On & On," Erykah Badu connected with those left cold by the slick and mechanical nature of contemporary R&B -- its separation from gospel, jazz, blues, and soul -- and an overlapping crowd attracted to her clear hip-hop sensibility. Coincidentally, Badu was freighted with comparisons to Holiday, but her impact was such that younger artists were soon (and are still) greeted with Badu comparisons. James, whose path to jazz was through hip-hop, is such an admirer of Badu that he initially resisted the idea of cutting an LP in tribute to the maverick -- a concept suggested by Brett Sanders, an associate at his Rainbow Blonde label. After a change of heart, James gathered a crew of bassist Ben Williams, drummer Jharis Yokley, keyboardist BIGYUKI, and emergent alto saxophonists Ebban Dorsey and Diana Dzhabbar (the latter of whom also plays flute). James and his like-minded band recorded in one take, and then he altered and added elements, mixing improvisation with production and leaving no doubt that On & On is a jazz recording. The cascading piano, saxes, and bells that begin the opening "On & On" explain the sleeve's homage to Alice Coltrane, leading to an otherwise straightforward, gently dubbed-out interpretation. It has all the casual swagger of the original; James sounds so at ease and in his element that he could be leaning and rocking throughout. The influence of Mama's Gun was evident on James' No Beginning No End and remains here with three songs chosen from that follow-up to Baduizm. James is suitably feathery on "Didn't Cha Know," an enchanted slow groove colored more by BIGYUKI's decorative synthesizer and Williams' deep variation on the winding bassline (as sampled by Badu and co-producer J Dilla). "Green Eyes," the suite of jealousy, insecurity, and heartbreak that ends Mama's Gun, is the centerpiece here, with James and the players all doing justice to its emotional complexity. While the cautionary "Bag Lady" might come across as didactic delivered by a man, James relates it with sensitivity and a strong sense of empathy made all the more effective by the buoyant flute of Dzhabbar in the optimistic closing sequence. Fun is had on the three songs that originated on New Amerykah, Pt. 1 and New Amerykah, Pt. 2. Flirty love song "Gone Baby, Don't Be Long," most playful of all, sounds loose enough to have been made without preparation. Just after that is the link to "Bag Lady," a version of "Out My Mind, Just in Time" kept to a concise lovesick ballad. Low-key anthem "The Healer" slips, slinks, and chimes with a smoldering and measured Dorsey solo, underscoring that On & On is both a tribute to a legend and a showcase for the next generation.

© Andy Kellman /TiVo