Here's a phrase I haven't heard too often: "What the fuck was Kweli thinking?" I know that as far as conscious-skewing MCs go, Talib Kweli's had his share of detractors- mostly people who consider him too reliant on pop-culture metaphors or just plain don't like his voice- but he's never managed to stumble his way into alienating the audience he already has. Brisk urban tracks like the hit "Paradise" alternate with acoustic material inspired by Brazilian bossa nova, but the sensual ambiance is soon spoiled by the dearth of melodies the album is so tasteful and restrained it's dull. Serving as producer for the first time, Sade curbs Stuart Matthewman's dramatic sax lines, the crucial ingredient of "Smooth Operator," in favor of an ensemble grace centered on the deft bump of Paul Denman's bass. Her lyrics are mostly brief pillow notes, with ttheir hooks chanted over and over. it's possible, Stronger Than Pride is even wispier than Sade's two previous albums it's so thin and understated that it leaves a mist hanging over the turntable (or, more likely, the CD player). She has designed a distinctive sound and established herself as a diva simply by assuming the image of one. In lieu of Baker's gospel-based emotions, Sade offers cool composure.
But Sade needn't worry about being eclipsed by more talented singers – the key to her appeal is not the pure prowess of her voice but its poise and presence. In that three-year break, the soft-female-soul market, which the remarkable success of her 1984 debut stimulated, has been filled by a rush of other artists, some far superior (Anita Baker, Regina Belle), some nearly inept (Swing Out Sister). Like Wally Pipp, who took a day off from the Yankee lineup and was permanently replaced by Lou Gehrig, Sade has risked usurpation by more talented players during her long weekend away from recording. His smacking but smoothened grooves are a great fit, heard on the synthesizer-laced disco funk of "Backup Plan" and the stout hip-hop bounce of "Right in Front of Me" (the latter something like Donell Jones'"Spend the Night" on weight gainer). If Stone really wanted to get back to basics, she could have made a whole album with the terminally undervalued Mike City. Some fans will be dismayed by the shortage of throwbacks to classic soul, but "U Lit My Fire" is a knockout, one that begins with a sly Taana Gardner fake-out before settling into one of her most seductive numbers. Stone's beaming, easygoing nature and typically excellent vocals save the majority of the substandard material. On one hand, who's to argue with an artist who says her new work is more herself than the material from her recent past? On the other, this album doesn't offer as many high points as her two previous Stax albums, and it's as scattered quality-wise as it is stylistically diverse. She alludes to having done too much collaborative work in the recent past, declaring "I shaved a lot of my originality off when merging with so many other people." Her outside projects haven't been all that numerous, and she is joined here by around two dozen fellow songwriters and roughly half as many co-producers. Those who have found something to enjoy in each one of Angie Stone's albums might be confused by the singer's liner notes for Rich Girl, the singer's first album for Saguaro Road.