Even on a covers album, Meshell Ndegeocello never eschews the subversion for which she is deservedly celebrated.

–

Prolific songwriter, producer, and bassist Meshell Ndegeocello has forged a reputation for her somersaulting, provocative, and unapologetic music. For our younger readers, Ndegeocello rose to prominence for her seminal work Plantation Lullabies (1993) – a heavily politicised and Afrocentric explosion of funk, hip-hop, and psychedelic soul. Over the course of her twenty-five year career, she has always refused to be musically and artistically ‘ghettoized’. Somewhat unusually for Ndegeocello, her twelfth studio album, Ventriloquism, is comprised entirely of covers.

The true test of a covers album is whether it can either match the power of the source material, or reinterpret it significantly. Even a cursory listen will demonstrate that Ndegeocello accomplishes both. Produced by Ndegeocello and Jebin Brumi, Ventriloquism deconstructs, reconceptualises, and rejuvenates a selection of 1980s and 1990s R&B hits. With Brumi on keys, Chris Bruce on guitar, and Abraham Rounds on drums, there is a clear aesthetic throughout the record – it is ruminative, layered, and deeply intimate.

The album begins promisingly with a cover of ‘I Wonder If I Take You Home’, originally by Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam with Full Force. Ndegeocello’s erratic arrangement is heady and borderline disorienting. Coupled with her subdued vocals, this rendition brings out the insecurity and longing of the lyric much more so than the original.

This is telling of Ventriloquism’s greatest strength: Ndegeocello captures the raw essence of the lyrics, and is able to open up entirely new meanings. There is a gorgeous tranquillity to the mellowed rendition of Al B. Sure!’s ‘Nite And Day’, punctuated with Bruce’s sumptuous guitar. The chorus – ‘I can tell you how I feel about you night and day’ – is transformed from a flirtatious quip to a gentle ode. A similar effect is achieved on Force MDs’ ‘Tender Love’, which Ndegeocello reimagines as a country-flecked ballad. Moreover, the slowed down, stripped-back version of ‘Waterfalls’, a 1995 hit by TLC, gives a greater wisdom and urgency to the chorus’ imperative.

Inevitably, the impact of the reinterpretations does vary from song to song. Certain rearrangements – such as the jaunty rendition of Ralph Tresvant’s ‘Sensitivity’ – do not quite surpass the irresistibly kitsch production of the originals. However, the artistic vision and sense of purpose throughout never falters.

Indeed, there are some particularly stunning renditions. ‘Sometimes It Snows In April’ proves Ndegeocello’s most dynamic vocal performance. A heartrending tribute to Prince, there is a crying, ringing quality to her voice coupled with an atmospheric, enveloping arrangement. On ‘Private Dancer’, Ndegeocello uses her breathy vocals to inhabit the pain of the narrator – a woman whose body is reified, commodified, and controlled by men. The Tina Turner original sounds breezy and casual in comparison.

‘Smooth Operator’, the signature tune of quiet-storm legends Sade, is Ventriloquism‘s strongest offering. Of course, due credit must be given to the brilliance of the song itself. With almost Faustian overtones – ‘heaven help him when he falls’ – ‘Smooth Operator’ explores the sexual exploits of an affluent, cruising businessman. While the original is timeless, Ndegeocello nonetheless modernises the song. She strips away the loungey, smooth-jazz stylings of the original and delivers a synth-laden rendition with moody bass and heaps of reverb. Whereas the original has a fascination and voyeurism to its narration, Ndegeocello’s version enhances the enigma and danger of the lyric – as if she herself has fallen victim to this gentleman’s machinations.

A rare feat, Ventriloquism is a covers album whose tracks can proudly co-exist alongside the originals.

(Image Copyright: Naïve Records)