Raheem DeVaughn – The Love and War Masterpeace
Jive: 2010
Purchase on Amazon
R&B and Soul music has not enjoyed the commercial success of Pop and Hip Hop music has of late nor has it had a singular champion –male or female – to carry the genre to heights comparable to those more notable forms. This doesn’t ring as a death knell to R&B and Soul but it does mark that the current landscape is dominated by fluffy production and arena-ready anthems. How then does a heart-stirring Soul singer make his or her mark in a world where tinny vocals and sing-along choruses are what the public devours? Perhaps Raheem DeVaughn isn’t that champion of change at the moment (at least sales-wise), but with his latest LP, The Love and War Masterpeace, he does his best to show diversity and courage in a time where many of his fellow artists offer sophomoric material in comparison.
The LP gets off to a good start with Dr. Cornel West delivering a spoken word piece devoted to DeVaughn’s talent and message; a band performing a lively, jazzy jam backs the vocals of West. Next is the album’s first single “Bulletproof” featuring rapper Ludacris. The song invokes the spirit and message-heavy styling of Marvin Gaye and the song is perfect – up until the guest rapper’s addition. Ludacris’s ill-advised placement on a nearly flawless song brings down the song several notches. However, credit should be given to Ludacris for attempting to step in tandem with DeVaughn’s focus. Following is the track is “The Greatness” featuring rapper Wale. The up-tempo, bouncy track is a strong complement to DeVaughn’s lyrics – and also a welcome devotion to women. Wale’s low-key yet capable feature doesn’t add much weight but it thankfully doesn’t detract either. “I Don’t Care” is more standard issue R&B that benefits greatly from strong harmonizing and layered vocal production from DeVaughn. The song’s high point is the spirited chorus depicting a relationship’s success in the face of outside detractors. “Black and Blue” slows the pace and DeVaughn is in great form again vocally. It is apparently a song decrying domestic violence and emotional abuse; DeVaughn’s earnest crooning boosts the somewhat typical sounding production.
“Mr. Right” is an unfortunate misstep. The track is, again, sonically pleasing but the lyrics are underwhelming and employs almost every bad cliché of late-90s R&B. The play on the title of the song renders it a rote exercise in retreading familiar ground. After another strangely welcome interlude from Dr. West, the track “Fragile” puts the LP back on the right track. On this song, DeVaughn’s greatest strengths are fully realized. The poet Malik Yousef is featured on the song and as with the Ludacris feature, his performance is mostly in the way and not at all an enhancement. Thankfully, his appearance is brief and allows DeVaughn to take full ownership of the song. The LP takes another nosedive with “Microphone” – a nearly explicit song that employs corny lyrics and over-dramatic vocals (and terrible sound effects to bolster the point). Again, DeVaugn’s vocal range is on full display but the words do not match the talent displayed in the singing. The LP ends on a fantastic note with “Revelations” featuring Damian Marley. DeVaughn’s message-laden lyrics are delivered with great effect and the somber production compliments the heaviness of his words perfectly. Damien Marley’s reggae chant vocals are also stellar and actually add to the track. Raheem DeVaughn may not be a household name and that is indeed unfortunate. An artist of his talent deserves more than late night radio spins and sparse daytime play. With this latest project, perhaps the public will finally give the singer the credit he rightly deserves.
