There is a distinctive type of emotional feeling that has permeated its way across Meshell Ndegeocello’s oeuvre. From the outspoken sensuality of Plantation Lullabies (1993) to the abandoned heartache of Bitter (1999), she has alway been an artist who remains grounded in centring her work on conceptual themes and ideas which thereby lend her output an almost metaphysical quality. 

And it’s on this record, The Omnichord Real Book (her 13th to date), that she takes a further dive into the recesses of heartfelt sincerity. Inspired by the teachings of her late musician father, Ndegeocello sets out to fashion a real book – that is, a loose literary working together of jazz standards, their lyrics and chords, considered a requirement for most up-and-coming performers – but one entirely of her own making. Using the novelty Japanese device which she uncovered in her attic as a launching pad, she breaks out into uncharted territory of her innermost thoughts. All of a sudden, private passions become universal as we, the listeners, are invited into the realm of Ndegeocello’s most recent project, rooted in the infinite layers of human experience. 

She expresses these sentiments largely through a series of uncomplicated lyrics made up of statements that carry immense power in their simple brevity, which are then crafted into catchy hooks: “Everything is under control”; “Can’t get back the time I wasted on you”; “Don’t let the outside world distract you from your inner world.” An emotional high-point arrives in the form of ‘Gatsby’, a weightless and free-flowing piano ballad penned by Samora Pinderhughes, to which Ndegeocello skillfully adapts her soft croons as she refrains from the heart on the experience of ego-death: “I been saying things I don't believe/I been doin’ things that just ain't me.” Musically speaking, Ndegeocello is never short of ideas - there is truly something for every pair of ears that care to take a listen. The gentle R&B acoustics of ‘Good Good’ aren’t doing it for you? Try ‘Vuma’, which explodes into a festival of South African musical splendour. And it’s not just singer-songwriter herself whom you can expect to hear firing on all cylinders on this record. The special guests she has invited to join her all rise to the occasion, with each one uniquely aiding the album’s harmonious momentum and overall success. There’s the inclusion of Brandee Younger on ‘Virgo’ that grants sonic persuasions of Alice Coltrane’s astral haze. Vibraphonist Joel Ross is another felicitous contributor to the album’s grand narrative of memories past, present and future. With echoes of Prince in his broodier moments, the album also possesses a string of instrumental miniatures that are by no means undercooked. Rather, they serve as sumptuous interludes that whet the appetite for what’s yet to come. It's not that less is more, but Ndegeocello goes above and beyond to convey what's most personal to her in a manner that best makes use of the space provided – often, at times, through moments of intense, uninterrupted quietude and stillness. 

There’s so much to be said for this long-awaited return from such an accomplished artist, but words have never really been able to do justice to the immense poetry of feelings when presented on this scale. If you want my advice, I’d say the best thing to do would be to get your head down before opening up the Real Book and taking a look for yourself.   

Barney Whittaker

from www.prestomusic.com