Recording of the Week, Meshell Ndegeocello - The Omnichord Real Book

There is a distinctive type of emotional feeling that permeates its way throughout Meshell Ndegeocello’s oeuvre. From the outspoken sensuality of Plantation Lullabies (1993), to the abandoned heartache of Bitter (1999), she has remained an artist grounded in the centring of her work on certain conceptual themes and ideas that lend her output an almost metaphysical quality. 

And it’s on this record, The Omnichord Real Book (her 13th to date), that she takes a further dive into the recesses of her own heartfelt sincerity. Inspired by the teachings of her late musician father, Ndegeocello sets out to fashion a real book – that is, a loose literary working together of jazz standards, their lyrics and chords, considered a requirement for most up-and-coming players – but one entirely of her own making. Employing the eponymous novelty Japanese device which she uncovered in her attic as a launching pad, she breaks out into the uncharted territory of her innermost thoughts. All of a sudden, private passions become universal as we, the listeners, are invited into the realm of Ndegeocello’s most recent project, rooted in the infinite layers of human experience. 

She expresses these sentiments largely through a series of uncomplicated lyrics made up of statements that carry immense power in their simple brevity, which are then crafted into catchy hooks: “Everything is under control”; “Can’t get back the time I wasted on you”; “Don’t let the outside world distract you from your inner world.” An emotional high-point arrives in the form of ‘Gatsby’, a weightless and free-flowing piano ballad penned by Samora Pinderhughes, to which Ndegeocello skillfully adapts her soft croons as she refrains from the heart on the experience of losing touch with her sense of self: “I been saying things I don't believe/I been doin’ things that just ain't me.” Musically speaking, Ndegeocello is never short of ideas - there is truly something for every pair of ears that care to take a listen. The gentle R&B acoustics of ‘Good Good’ aren’t doing it for you? Try ‘Vuma’, which explodes into a festival of South African musical splendour. Besides, it’s not just the singer-songwriter herself that you can expect to hear firing on all cylinders during this record. The special guests she invites to join her all rise to the occasion, with each of them uniquely aiding the album’s harmonious momentum and overall success. There’s the inclusion of Brandee Younger, for one, on the track ‘Virgo’ that grants sonic persuasions of Alice Coltrane’s astral haze. Vibraphonist Joel Ross is another felicitous contributor to Ndegeocello’s grand narrative of memories past, present and future. With echoes of Prince on his darker days, the album also possesses a run of instrumental miniatures, which are by no means undercooked. Instead, they serve as sumptuous interludes that whet the appetite for what’s yet to come. It's not that less is more, but Ndegeocello habitually goes above and beyond to convey what's most personal to her in a manner that best makes use of the space provided – often, at times, through moments of intense, uninterrupted quietude and stillness. 

There’s much to be said for this long-awaited return from such an accomplished artist, and rightfully so – but words have never really been able to do justice to the immense poetry of feeling when presented on this scale. If you want my advice, I’d say the best thing to do would be to start by opening up the Real Book and finding out for yourself.