perfidy

When soul legend Solomon Burke returned from obscurity in 2002 with Don't Give Up On Me, he was singing material by some of the greatest songwriters of the last half century: Dan Penn, Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Elvis Costello, Tom Waits, and Nick Lowe among them. But with the exception of Van Morrison and Dan Penn, the names under the titles weren't exactly the first that come to mind when soul music is the topic. What elevated their offerings from genre exercises or curiosities to near-perfection were Burke's performances. His soaring gospel-soul tenor cut straight to the narrative heart of each song, making each a grand drama of loss, love, or tribulation. It was a thrilling return to fame for Burke, and especially surprising for how different it was from the gospel-infused soul rave-ups that he rode to fame in the 1960s. In a more expansive and sedate setting with a slate of (mostly) excellent new songs, we saw a new side of a great old artist.

It now seems that that album's success was due not only to Burke but to white-boy producer Joe Henry who picked the songs and helmed the sessions. Henry, who has also engineered and produced for quirky acts like Kristin Hersh and Jim White and has released numerous albums of his own, made Don't Give Up On Me a warm and cozy sounding album that put the spotlight right where it needed to be - on Burke's powerful tenor - and leaned instruments right up against that marvelous instrument where need be. Relying mainly on piano and organ, acoustic guitars, quiet kit drums, and hushed backup singers, Henry created a gorgeous, lo-fi old school vibe with the one-band/one-room sound that recalled the glory days of Motown, Memphis, and Muscle Shoals, but with a twist. Henry seems to have realized that trying to ape the sound of classic Stax or Atlantic sides is a sucker's game. Instead, he settled on a sparse, intimate production that sounded classic but was in reality all new and all his own.

Now Joe Henry is producer of the new compilation album I Believe To My Soul, a project which raises the stakes immensely on Don't Give Up On Me. For this album Henry recruited not one but five great voices of soul music: Ann Peebles, Irma Thomas, Mavis Staples, Allen Toussaint, and Billy Preston. All five, though not household names, are legends of Southern soul, among the greats of the genre. Together they bring their strengths in straight sanctified gospel, percolating funk, gritty R&B, New Orleans muck, and classic Memphis soul into one new creation that, although soul has been around for fifty years, sounds as fresh and new as if it were born yesterday.

It's like a ninja movie. Ann Peebles came out of the Memphis scene in the early 1970s and is best known for her hit "I Can't Stand The Rain," her powerful voice, and her mastery of Crane Style kung fu and judo. Irma Thomas, the Queen of New Orleans Soul (a title bestowed by the city), has been bubbling under for more than forty years, recording excellent sides that never achieved national success. Her secret weapons are her restraint, taking her performances from a whisper to a scream, and her deadliness with the katana. She is master of Dragon style kung fu. Mavis Staples is best known as the lead vocalist for the Staples Singers ("I'll Take You There"), and her mastery of rhythm and phrasing is without equal. Her weapon of choice is the matched sais and her kung fu style is Snake. Billy Preston has been playing professional music since the age of ten, and his abilities led him to be a session player on the Beatles' Let It Be and to later chart success with several 70's funk-soul hits. He is a master of stealth, poison, and Drunken Boxing. Allen Toussaint is the Master, a grey eminence of New Orleans music who produced Irma Thomas, the Meters, Lee Dorsey, Patti Labelle, and Doctor John, penned numerous hits, and has recorded several albums of his own. He is a master of Dragon style, t'ai chi, and the secret art of ninjitsu. Brought together by a mysterious warlord named Joe they are: The Soul Patrol. Cue theme music and flashy title sequence.

With incredible talent like this the best thing to do is to get out of the way. Joe Henry is smart enough to do just that, laying down low-key skeletal tracks embellished by Toussaint's keyboards, horns, well-placed guitar rhythms and perfectly done backup vocals. His vocabulary as a producer is deep, allowing him to support a song with old-style gospel backup or with Meters-inspired funk as the situation demands. The song selections range from old soul and gospel chestnuts to Bob Dylan, and Henry does his best to make that diversity work in his favor, showcasing each singer's particular strengths with the choice of material.

After all this buildup, I can say without exaggeration that I Believe To My Soul is the best new album I have heard this year, and possibly this decade. Every single song is an instant classic performance, thirteen black-belt exhibitions of the deepest, most beautiful, most sanctified soul music to be made since the golden era of the genre. Purists might sneer at the inauthenticity of Hardy's warm and intimate production and the Starbucks-readiness of the marketing campaign, but purists be damned. This is one amazing, transcendent, spectacular album that deserves to be in as many lives as possible.

If I had to pick one high point, it would have to be Ann Peebles' otherworldly reading of Bob Dylan's "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You," a performance so powerful, so beautiful, that it almost broke me down the first time I heard it, and keeps breaking me down every single time since. But that's practically an arbitrary choice. Billy Preston's burbling Philly-via-New Orleans "As One," Irma Thomas' gorgeous and plaintive "Lovin' Arms," Mavis Staples' intense "You Must Have That True Religion," or Allan Toussaint's unspeakably funky instrumental "Turvalon" are each candidates for 'best song,' and those four choices are ultimately arbitrary as well. How often does an original album come along that is composed of nothing but high points?

It's possible that I'm the only person on the planet moved in this way by I Believe To My Soul, but I'd bet against that. The liner notes to the album indicate that this is the first volume in a planned series of similar releases. Even if future installments fall short of this first one (and how could they possibly measure up?), Joe Henry is amassing a track record as a producer to watch, a true believer of rare talent and discernment. If he keeps it up, we might be able to say his name in the same breath as Jerry Wexler, Phil Spector, George Clinton, and Quincy Jones as producers whose names inspire awed reverence among a segment of the music-loving public. Keep it up, Joe.

A portion of the proceeds from sales of I Believe To My Soul will go to fund Hurricane Katrina relief efforts.