Ephraim Lewis - Skin
Ephraim Lewis
Skin
1992 Elektra records
Produced by Bacon and Quarmby
I have been meaning to write a review of this album for quite some time. It is one of those albums that you catch at a pivotal moment in life and sticks with you. Ephraim Lewis was a musical epiphany for me when his debut (and only) album was released. He was the most potentially significant male soul vocalist of the last quarter century, but he passed away controversially before any of that potential could be realized.
My first experience was seeing Ephraim Lewis on an MTV soul show, hosted by fashion designer Karl Kani of all things (which did not last long), and showcasing new talent. That one exposure was enough to sell me on the idea of real soul vocals in a contemporary context.
The most succinct way I can describe him would be to imagine the lovechild of Sade and Maxwell, with Seal and Sarah Webb as the godparents. An impeccable voice that could go from a crisp falsetto (one with a less sharp ring than Prince) to a rich lower register. However, unlike today, where overly melismatic and whistle register vocal gymnastic craft replace actual singing as an expressive performance, Lewis was a scion of restraint and taste.
On It Can't be Forever, he uses his full range in a multitrack of vocal lines to great effect, but never engaging in abusive artifice; using breathy tenor, soaring falsetto and growling half-spoken murmurs to pristine effect. On the only other single release, Drowning in Your Eyes, he uses a kind of downtempo pastoral musical backdrop with Miles Davis like muted trumpet phrases to match his floating vocals, not too far off from something you might hear on a Sweetback album today. The results are exemplary.
While the album is very coherent as a complete work, it is not repetitive. The horn sections used in Mortal Seed, subtle percussion and strings in Summer Lightning, and the punchy guitar and organ riffs in Rule for Life are just some of the various flourishes added to give each song distinct characteristics, along with regular doses of layered, lush keyboards and elastic basslines. Lewis himself treats each song as a contained statement, and he sings each one in a fashion that evokes different eras of soul; hints of Al Green, Marvin Gaye, and even faint hints of Sam Cooke appear. He was a locus for what appeared to be every major style of soul that had come down the pipe to that time, and instead of sounding fractured, he made it all work in a cohesive final delivery that was tough to match. I was quite literally floored that this was done largely by one guy, and a young, otherwise still untested talent at that. Elements of what would become common in the Bristol sound, Acid Jazz and the more intelligent aspects of neo-soul movement are all here in a well-integrated whole, helped along by the topline production team of Kevin Bacon (no, not the actor) and Jonathan Quarmby, who have also worked with Finlay Quaye and Audioweb, as well as recording ambient and dub influenced electronica under the name Manna.
His lyrical content was also not narrow, moving from diffuse musings in a similar vein to Seal at his spaciest, to pithy statements about love and society that seemed deeply informed by the work of Marvin and Stevie.
The album has aged spectacularly well, with the only possible dated element being the drum track from It Can't be Forever, which has been used by literally dozens of dance and soul tracks over the years, most notably with Madonna's Justify My Love. But if that is the worst you can say about something, then you probably aren't doing too badly.
I have seen this album in cut out bins often enough, and I do suggest first looking there, but if you really enjoy soul, either old school or new, there is something here to enjoy.
As for his death, it is shrouded in controversy and loads of conflicting reports involving Los Angeles police, tasers, drugs, and falling off of a multi-story building. There is a rather in depth read about it here.
Skin
1992 Elektra records
Produced by Bacon and Quarmby
I have been meaning to write a review of this album for quite some time. It is one of those albums that you catch at a pivotal moment in life and sticks with you. Ephraim Lewis was a musical epiphany for me when his debut (and only) album was released. He was the most potentially significant male soul vocalist of the last quarter century, but he passed away controversially before any of that potential could be realized.
My first experience was seeing Ephraim Lewis on an MTV soul show, hosted by fashion designer Karl Kani of all things (which did not last long), and showcasing new talent. That one exposure was enough to sell me on the idea of real soul vocals in a contemporary context.
The most succinct way I can describe him would be to imagine the lovechild of Sade and Maxwell, with Seal and Sarah Webb as the godparents. An impeccable voice that could go from a crisp falsetto (one with a less sharp ring than Prince) to a rich lower register. However, unlike today, where overly melismatic and whistle register vocal gymnastic craft replace actual singing as an expressive performance, Lewis was a scion of restraint and taste.
On It Can't be Forever, he uses his full range in a multitrack of vocal lines to great effect, but never engaging in abusive artifice; using breathy tenor, soaring falsetto and growling half-spoken murmurs to pristine effect. On the only other single release, Drowning in Your Eyes, he uses a kind of downtempo pastoral musical backdrop with Miles Davis like muted trumpet phrases to match his floating vocals, not too far off from something you might hear on a Sweetback album today. The results are exemplary.
While the album is very coherent as a complete work, it is not repetitive. The horn sections used in Mortal Seed, subtle percussion and strings in Summer Lightning, and the punchy guitar and organ riffs in Rule for Life are just some of the various flourishes added to give each song distinct characteristics, along with regular doses of layered, lush keyboards and elastic basslines. Lewis himself treats each song as a contained statement, and he sings each one in a fashion that evokes different eras of soul; hints of Al Green, Marvin Gaye, and even faint hints of Sam Cooke appear. He was a locus for what appeared to be every major style of soul that had come down the pipe to that time, and instead of sounding fractured, he made it all work in a cohesive final delivery that was tough to match. I was quite literally floored that this was done largely by one guy, and a young, otherwise still untested talent at that. Elements of what would become common in the Bristol sound, Acid Jazz and the more intelligent aspects of neo-soul movement are all here in a well-integrated whole, helped along by the topline production team of Kevin Bacon (no, not the actor) and Jonathan Quarmby, who have also worked with Finlay Quaye and Audioweb, as well as recording ambient and dub influenced electronica under the name Manna.
His lyrical content was also not narrow, moving from diffuse musings in a similar vein to Seal at his spaciest, to pithy statements about love and society that seemed deeply informed by the work of Marvin and Stevie.
The album has aged spectacularly well, with the only possible dated element being the drum track from It Can't be Forever, which has been used by literally dozens of dance and soul tracks over the years, most notably with Madonna's Justify My Love. But if that is the worst you can say about something, then you probably aren't doing too badly.
I have seen this album in cut out bins often enough, and I do suggest first looking there, but if you really enjoy soul, either old school or new, there is something here to enjoy.
As for his death, it is shrouded in controversy and loads of conflicting reports involving Los Angeles police, tasers, drugs, and falling off of a multi-story building. There is a rather in depth read about it here.
posted by theloniusfunk at 2:33 AM
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