Amp Fiddler - Afro Strut (Album)
You can never go back. As much as acts like to cash into the retro dollar, channelling old school rock, punk or soul, the golden ages of those styles are well and truly in the past. The modern music business relies on a slick product, packaging and promotion. On his sophomore release, Afro Strut, Amp Fiddler is equally influenced by Sly Stone, Prince and the modern-day soul singer Maxwell delivering a polished package of R&B/Soul and Funk. There is no point comparing it to any of soul/funk classic albums of the early 1970s that it is derivative of. This is Soul in 2006: the vocals are silky smooth, not a note is out of place and even the live drums sound like they're the product of a machine.
Mr. Fiddler, who also sings, notably earned his stripes playing with Parliament as a keyboardist. Unlike the original Parliament keyboardist, Bernie Worrell, who has stayed freakishly innovative throughout his career, Mr. Fiddler. maintains his ride on the safe side of the musical road, using his abilities to build thick textured tracks. Textured is also a word that could be used to describe the flow of the album which employs many guest artists and styles to provide some interest over the course of the 12 tracks. Fellow quasi-old-school-throwback Corrine Rae-Bailey sings on the electro-kletzmer 'If I Don't', which was one of the singles and deservedly so. Pioneering afro-beat drummer Tony Allen took time out from playing with Damon Albarn to contribute to a few tracks but his work seems to get lost in the total picture.
It is nice to have an R&B/Soul album that steers clear from featuring Lil Jon on any track and instead offers musicianship and melody. But, for all its efforts to sound "authentic", it comes up short in one area and that is Funk. The Funk is that certain rawness that plugs the groove of a tune directly into the listener’s soul, a quality sadly lacking in the majority of albums in this genre. There is a glimmer of this feeling on the cover of Hendrix's 'Hey Joe' in which Mr. Fiddler counterpoints the guitar solo with his own refreshingly messy fuzzy synth lines. There are also two Antibalas style afro-beat interludes collectively clocking in at under 90 seconds that Mr. Fiddler would have to wise to explore further.
For soul in the late 2000s, this is a relatively good record, if compared to anything put out by Usher. But to the ear, it is still a little bland and middle of the road, sandwiched between the bombastic vocals of Beyonce on the right and Bernie Worrell's keyboard eccentrics on the left.
