Soul

Ever listened to a rendition of ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ by Sam Cooke or ‘It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World’ as performed by James Brown and thought, ‘Hmmm, it’s OK, but imagine how much better a Seal cover would be?’ You have? Then Soul, a dozen certifiable classics of the genre re-moulded around his dusky baritone, is just the album for you. However, if you’re not part of that select group, your instinctive reaction to this record will most likely be a pleading, ‘Why?’
The task of bringing anything new to these songs would intimidate any right-thinking artist; indeed, such an undertaking verges on the hubristic. For no matter how fine these re-imaginings might be – and they certainly are smooth – it is impossible to judge them purely on their own merits. History clings limpet-like to these songs, the ghost of previous incarnations inescapable. Just as troubling is the stylised production of David Foster. The anodyne arrangements and unnecessary trills and frills – particularly the schmaltzy swing of ‘Knock On Wood’ – are the work of an inverse Midas, a man who, here at least, succeeds only in turning pure gold into something of an entirely different colour and texture.
Perhaps singer and producer alike felt obliged to adorn these revered compositions in some new and attention-grabbing garb, but in fact Soul works best when Seal’s voice is put naked and shivering at a song’s centre, as on ‘Free’. At best a competent offering and a decent Christmas present for that Michael Buble-loving aunt, ultimately Soul is sadly lacking.