Soul/Rock Review: Keziah Jones, "Black Orpheus"

A CanineMind Exclusive (for all intents and purposes)

How to say it? Keziah Jones’ Black Orpheus is [ ], [ ], and [ ]. Maybe hyphens would help: [ ]-[ ], [ ]-[ ]. It’s like… Well, I mean, listening to it is like [ ], [ ]-[ ]. “Kpafuca”?

Having no clue what’s going on is one of the joys of life. Embrace it.

Still wandering around in an “On the Jungle Floor”-induced haze, I was slipped Black Orpheus, a two-disc fourth-effort from the Anglo-Nigerian, Franco-Germanic sensation, African-world-funk-R&B- soul-rock guitarist-singer Keziah Jones. Normally, bizarre hybrid efforts are said to "hit you from left field." But, in true diasporic fashion, this album seems to come pouring in from all sides, leaving me, well, kpafucated. That’s both a good and a bad thing.

Black Orpheus was initially released in 2003 as a single disc, but seems to have received little if any attention from American listeners. French imprint Delabel has now re-released it in double-disc form, tacking on a half-hour of acoustic remixes, covers (Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower” and Bob Marley’s “So Much Trouble in the World” stand out), and a few new studio tracks, only further kpafucizing the kpafucation from the initial release.

Each of Black Orpheus's tracks fully and simultaneously display Jones' maddening idiosyncrasies and intriguing skills. For those wondering why Jones never crossed-over to American audiences: his unconventional singing style has a STEEP learning curve. At times, he fills his vocals with decorative curlicues and odd inflections that undercut the emotional content of his lyrics. Is this a language-barrier or a style-barrier? (my bets are on the second) KPAFUCA!

Beyond these perplexing vocals, however, lay lush genre-hopping soundscapes. Beef with Jones’ weird inverted cadences and rough accents, but not with the arrangements on such songs as “Kpafuca,” “Wet Questions,” “Neptune,” and “Guitar in the River.” Jones weaves together a deep, deep blend of soul horns, gospel organs, Fela Kuti-esque rhythms, and, most distinctively, bluesy acoustic tones. Without a doubt, the quality of Jones’ stripped down acoustic supplements varies from the strong (“Beautiful Emilie”) to the underwhelming (“When Somebody Loves You”). Regardless of quality, Jones’ arrangements suggest new musical textures for American musicians, kpafucizing genre-distinctions in ways only sketched by Lauryn Hill’s acoustic forays.

In the middle ground between his vocals and his instrumentation is his songwriting. While not always the strongest (the quasi-paradoxical “Sadness Is…”), Jones’ lyrics are filled with a playful disrespect for standard language, mixing English and French with pidgin… like his favorite turn of phrase, kpafcua, “a state of falling-apart or confusion.”

So, the final verdict? Kpafuca.