As a lover of R&B, I find it heavy on my heart that we’re not truly evolved in sound and lyrical content. Everyone talks about “bring the ’90s back,” but that means we’re going backward. And that is not a statement that anyone truly wants to come to fruition. There needs to be a balance, and it’s unfortunately lopsided.
Female R&B is locked and loaded. The ladies are pushing the genre forward. Artists such as Jazmine Sullivan, Kelela, Rochelle Jordan, Ari Lennox, SZA, Summer Walker, H.E.R. and more have carried the genre on their backs with different lanes and perspectives. You can sonically tell them apart like a Coca-Cola Freestyle machine at a McDonald’s.
Male R&B, on the other hand—and I say this respectfully at the moment—is limited. It appears there are two lanes: You are either the quirky DIY genius or the sex appeal-oriented model. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when the latter is 60 percent or more of what is presented in the male side of R&B, it becomes oversaturated. The DIY genius is cool and multitalented, but where is the interest when most of the public views them as pretentious?
Old example—but this is where I bring up James Brown. When this man came on the scene, he was culturally earth-shattering. His dynamic stage presence, guttural vocal phrasing, his band’s proto breakbeats and social commentary were anomalies in a time when most soul artists were lovey-dovey and gospel-influenced. He was his own man, and his style birthed the genre known as funk. A Black American sensation—he laid the groundwork of a raw, expressive lane of R&B. One that was cultural and artistic.
It’s a lot to ask for, but we need male artists who strive to push boundaries in musicality and cultural leadership—those who are not afraid to speak on topics that are atypical outside of the usual love, sex and heartbreak. R&B is a genre known for its storytelling, and it’s saddening that we’re losing that essence of what made it impactful to not only the world but to the Black American experience. For example, Curtis Mayfield created the soundtrack “Super Fly” (1971), which was a concept album filled with sociopolitical issues and themes. Funk, or specifically funksters up until the rise of hip-hop, were the embodiment and representative of that expressive creativity. They were the Black American versions of the rockers that you saw throughout history (examples: Curtis Mayfield, Isaac Hayes, George Clinton, Cameo, Zapp, etc.).
We need more artists of that ilk who can provide new challenges, perspectives and voices.
