By Cait Brennan, Jan. 1, 2015.
D’Angelo & The Vanguard | Black Messiah | RCA | 
It’s been 15 years since one of R&B’s most important and innovative young voices gave us his 
career-defining work. Following his 2000 release, Voodoo, D’Angelo basically vanished from the limelight. Uncomfortable with being marketed as a sex symbol? Troubled by substance abuse? An obsessive perfectionist working on his magnum opus? The tabloids used up a lot of ink guessing. But nobody, not even his label, saw it coming when he announced Black Messiah was ready.
Powered by passionate lyrics, timeless grooves and a once in a generation genius, Black Messiah is that rarest of treasures – a painstakingly crafted artistic and political statement, a transcendent thing of beauty, and also a seductively funky good time.
Scheduled for an early 2015 release, D’Angelo abruptly moved the release date to late December in the wake of the Ferguson and New York police shooting cases, feeling the need to make a strong statement. And strong it is. The withering lyrics of tracks, including “The Charade” rail against police gunning down unarmed protestors (“All we wanted was a chance to talk ‘stead we only got outlined in chalk”), while even the love songs (“Betray My Heart”) have a decidedly rueful tone. But don’t think for a minute that it’s all sad trombone; like Marvin Gaye’s classic What’s Goin’ On, D’Angelo effortlessly balances the personal and political, the message and the music. The tasty funk jam “Sugah Daddy” is the kind of gem Prince would write if he were still this good. And such songs as “Back To The Future” (here in two parts) and “Really Love” are filled with Brian Wilson-worthy yearning in the most pared-down funk package. Strong contributions from the Roots’ Questlove add to the impact.
The Decemberists | What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World | Capitol Records |
The Decemberists’ Colin Meloy lays it out with characteristic frankness in “The Singer 
Addresses His Audience,” the opener for the band’s seventh studio album (and fourth with major label Capitol). “We know you threw your arms around us/in the hopes we wouldn’t change,” he sings. “But we had to change some.”
Change is definitely in the air on this album. The Portland-based band has come a long way since their spartan indie recordings for the Kill Rock Stars label, with each subsequent album sounding bigger and more polished. Here, though, the major-label sound and charmingly idiosyncratic wit is tempered by some of the band’s most personal, introspective songs. Meloy was deeply affected by the Newtown shootings and wrote some of these songs as a response, notably the haunting “12/17/12.” There’s plenty to love here for radio-friendly fans as well, including the single “Make You Better,” a huge rock song with raging guitar distortion as well as the requisite regretful lyrical twists.
Other highlights include “Easy Come, Easy Go,” packed with staccato references to the Lindbergh baby and a great surf guitar sound; “Mistral,” with its waves of swelling Hammond organs and gorgeous gospel harmonies; and “Cavalry Captain,” in which Meloy gets back to role playing with a Motown stomp and a wall-of-sound horn section to carry the day. If this is growing up, the Decemberists wear it well.