Brand New Heavies
Brother Sister
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The Brand New Heavies have made vocalist N'Dea Davenport an official member – a wise thing, that, because she is the spark in BNH's sound. Brother Sister, the band's second album, is not unlike its American debut three years ago: chock-full of '70s funk and soul references, with a bit of fusion jazz and '90s reverence for all that is old thrown in. The beauty of Brand New Heavies was that it set a standard that was hard for imitators to meet. It grooved easily, delighting listeners with its rhythmic interplay, funky experimentation and good-vibes air of cooperation. Brother Sister continues setting the pace, with the band members – guitarist Simon Bartholomew,
Read More bassist Andrew Levy and keyboardist-drummer Jan Kincaid – playing off of each other comfortably and confidently. The requisite horns are present, as are the synthesized violins. The group's involvement with Heavy Rhyme Experience Vol. I (1992), a collaboration with American rap artists, including Black Sheep and Gang Starr, made a strong impact on the instrumentalists. The band rocks hard enough to keep heads bopping without losing BNH's identity as essentially a funky soul unit. But it sometimes seems too easy. BNH won over audiences in the United States with the fun of their live performances, but Brother Sister illustrates all too well the difficulty of capturing that onstage energy in the studio. Except for Davenport. She has a quality not found in R&B vocalists since the height of disco: looseness. Vocalists of that era – from Gloria Gaynor to Donna Summer – could make you believe that those screeching high notes were nothin' but a thang. Davenport, of course, doesn't screech; she sings sexily, without coyness. What she brings to BNH is an ease of execution and a keen sense of style. She is as fluid as the band is tight, as blasé as the players are intent. "People Giving Love," for example, is a percussion-driven slow burner, an interpretation of West Indian grooves. Davenport isn't intimidated by the spare arrangement; she simply melts in: no fuss, no muss. It is one of her many quiet triumphs – and one of the reasons that, ultimately, Brother Sister works. (RS 679) MARIE ELSIE ST. LEGER |
