José James - Love In a Time of Madness

Pitchfork 73

Modern jazz fans have a right to feel possessive about the singer José James. In the last decade, he’s been one of the suavest vocal improvisers on the scene. His 2015 album devoted to songs made popular by Billie Holiday, Yesterday I Had the Blues, sounded to me like the most soulful tribute to come out during Lady Day’s centennial.

Steeped as he is in jazz, James has also shown a restlessness with strict genre categorization. He’s described his love of funk, R&B and hip-hop in interviews. And when Blue Note announced his new album, the label’s press release bore a striking quote from the artist: “I could make jazz albums the rest of my life, but I want to reach people, man. I like Jamie xx as much as I like Miles Davis, you know?”

You could practically hear the well-drilled corps of Jazz Defenders grinding their teeth in response. But on this new record, James doesn't discard his old skill set. He’s merely doing his part to underline the music’s flexibility in relation to new pop trends—much as Louis Armstrong and Davis himself did in decades past. (Clive Davis once wrote that Davis asked Columbia to stop labeling him as a “jazz man.”)

James knows all about this history. And so does Blue Note. So while there are indeed trap-music snares in a few songs on Love in a Time of Madness, there are also plenty of James’ more typical textures. On opening track “Always There,” a stark synth line presents a useful contrast with the light-touch smoothness of James’s baritone. During “Closer,” he responds to a looped, low-pitch sample by cutting back on melodic filigree—save for a brief escape, on the line “show you I can be the only one.” In the context of the song, it’s a standard line about romantic prowess. At the level of arrangement, it reminds the listener that James has more to offer when singing over a rhythmic grid.

If you’re dead cold to trap beats or the dolorous mood of the Weeknd’s R&B, the subtle but real changes James works on these styles won’t be radical enough to win your affection. But there might be something else for you here, since the core strength of Love in a Time of Madness is its range of dance-pop appreciation. In the middle of the record, James includes a trio of songs that sound like an EP Prince could have produced for the Time in the early ’80s. Uptempo standout “Live Your Fantasy” contains call-and-response funk and the kind of synth chords Jamie Starr snatched from earlier waves of jazz fusion. “To Be With You” is the sultry ballad. And on “Ladies Man,” James flashes his newly drilled falsetto voice. Hewing this close to the Purple Formula is as risky as anything else James tries on the album, but he executes the play.

There are a couple of songs that simply assist us in identifying this set as a 21st-century pop-crossover record on Blue Note. “Remember Our Love” looks at a failed romance, and counsels sweetness. The downtempo “Let It Fall” has just a hint of social commentary, but stays tranquil. These are the most easily forgotten tracks. James initially envisioned Love as a double-album set, in which social themes could alternate with intimate ones. Even without the protest music, the 12-song version can sound as though caught between imperatives: eager to test the boundaries of a contemporary pop and jazz, but not ambitious enough in scale to do all the work the singer can envision. Still, he’s clearly got the range to make a “big statement” record seem plausible. If he can put everything together, he’ll have more at his disposal than most singers in any tradition.