1. If you missed DC’s Blisspop party, you missed out the continuation of an ongoing peaceful regime welcoming brewing on the DC DJ scene.

Pictured are DJs Phil Real and DJvsWild. This past Saturday night, with the aid of 20,000 watts of seemingly subatomic bass at the U Street Music Hall during Will Eastman’s Blisspop, these two young men arrived alongside the Pacemaker duo of Sami Y and DJTJ alongside Bmore’s DJ Pierre and Murder Mark as top representatives of the young generation of East coast DJs.

Real is a recent graduate of the University of Maryland, and regularly spins the “Nuh Uh” parties with DJs Shuttle (Nate from Passion Pit), Simon Phoenix from Baltimore’s TaxLo parties and assorted guests. The parties are held in both DC and Baltimore, and are a lightly regarded yet ultimately fun time on the DC and Baltimore party calendar. I first became aware of Real as he spun a now legendary series of parties in the summer of 2009 with other Maryland student DJ Soohan and Bmore club notables Jonny Blaze and TGRI Stamped artist James Nasty. Real has improved by leaps and bounds from also being the opening DJ at TGRI’s second All Killer No Filler party, and is truly starting to come into his own as a selector and gaining in technical skills as a DJ.

DJvsWild comes from Richmond, where he, alongside the Audio Ammo crew, are quickly gaining a reputation for throwing some of the more ridiculous parties in the area as of late. Their “Brain Drain” and “Head Hunters” parties have recently hosted names including Stretch Armstrong, Tittsworth, Drop the Lime and Nadastrom, as well as DJ Stereo Faith, and they count as a friend DC’s young dubstep obsessed spinner Billfold. The entire crew, from the aforementioned DJvsWild to Long Jawns, DJ Doddie and Bobby LaBeat are doing big things in the dirty urban college town, and are absolutely worth the press.

Come see Phil Real on June 2nd and 3rd in Baltimore at Sonar and DC at the Velvet Lounge respectively, for another edition of Nuh Uh featuring all the usual suspects listed above. For the Audio Ammo crew, come to Durkl’s block party this Sunday from 11-7 at 901 5th St. NW!

2. Gramophonedzie – “Why Don’t You” (High Rankin and Evolve or Die Remix)

Out of many tracks that slayed at Blisspop, it was this particular dubstep interpretation of one of my favorite house tracks of 2009 that REALLY took the cake. Props to the UK’s drum and bass and dubstep DJ High Rankin on the top notch work, and do check for his new label Suicide Dub. From taking a listen, absolutely expecting big things.

3. The Roots – Dear God 2.0

The Roots – Dear God 2.0 by Hypetrak

If of the fervent belief as I am that The Roots have evolved from Philly’s most wanted into first ballot Rock and Roll Hall of Fame candidates and true musical legends, don’t let me convince you, let their leaked first single from How I Got Over do the heavy work. Pure excellence, and with their uber success as Jimmy Fallon’s late night band, this will absolutely be their largest selling and most mainstream leaning album of all time. For a band that routinely rocks the most ardent hip hop head with Nrvana covers, this isn’t a bad thing, it’s just another day at the office for the ultimate rap band.

As another day goes by, seemingly there goes another completely absurd public gaffe in the burgeoning hip hop career of Wale Folarin. This time, it’s not proclaiming that Pharrell was “crying over the phone” trying to submit last second beats for debut Attention: Deficit. It wasn’t the incessant public redressing of his haters on Twitter. Nor was it being cold, standoffish, or otherwise odd. It’s something far far far worse, and the final straw between me as a supporter of Washington, DC, and as well, of hip hop.

After being scheduled to play at a Black Pride event as part of DC’s African-American lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered celebration weekend, the artist backed out, citing concerns over playing at an all gay event. For better or worse, Wale is DC’s international hip hop representative. Not the ultra-talented Tabi Bonney, nor the backpacker superheroes the Diamond District. Instead it’s Wale, the world’s most hypersensitive emcee. Clearly concerned after less than spectacular sales for his debut album, the artist is clearly over thinking each and every move he makes, and when you assume you are doing things correctly, you do what everyone that assumes does, as the old saying goes, “making an ass out of u and me.” Now, outside of being hated as an emcee in his hometown for “leaving the city behind,” he’s now an emo homophobe. All that being said, it might be time for Wale to leave DC behind.

In being DC’s hip hop representative, he’s opened doors and people extending from Diamond District to Don Juan have benefited tremendously. However, in doing so, he’s now clearly developed into a moron, capable of making the most pedantic of moves into a debacle of epic proportions. DC doesn’t need Wale, but Wale needs hip hop. Therefore, it’s time for Wale to turn in his Gilbert Arenas jersey, hand over his Redskins cap, disavow ever referring to himself as “Wale Ovechkin,” and turn in his Barra Brava membership card. DC is united now, and all divisive forces are an unnecessary blemish. Wale is a good rapper with great adlibs. Maybe it’s time for him to relocate. New York. LA. Miami. Atlanta. But this one is a NIMBY case now. Not In My Back Yard. Like I said when I read of his homophobia allegations, “aw hell no, Wale’s gotta go!”

In the 1960s, 70s and 80s, this would’ve never happened. Wale is a special artist. He’s highly entertaining and is an exemplary wordsmith. If he were signed to say, Motown, he would’ve been schooled in all aspects of artist development and would know how to comport himself like a gentleman of grace and honor. The death of artist development on record labels is another column for another day. But for a guy who runs around and throws his diamond in the sky more than Kanye West did almost a decade ago, maybe Wale should take a cue from the general of the Roc Nation team and shut up and embrace any fans he can find in his hometown. Yes, I know. It’s hip hop. The very nature of the genre is couched entirely in homophobia. Wale’s struggling. Identifying with the gay community certainly won’t help him appeal to the hip hop masses. But hell. It’s also 2010, AND, the hip hop masses didn’t exactly shut iTunes down for the day buying his debut. Wale himself often mentions how hard of a sell he is because he appeals to such a wide spectrum of fans. Maybe it’s time for Wale to realize he’s not going to be Rakim. He’s not going to be Will Smith, either, but maybe a happy medium. Playing a gay pride event? Not the worst idea ever. Even if not the case, it shows him to be forward thinking individual, and possibly someone worthy of mainstream acceptance.

DC’s on fire. Say what you will, but Barack Obama’s election made the Capital City extremely sexy. The New York Times can’t stop ranting and raving about us, the Real World was just here, and people worldwide are starting to take note of DC for more than being the city where the guy smoked crack and got his job back. The U Street Music Hall though smaller provides comparable entertainment options to Pacha, Fabric, Body English or any other top international club spot in the universe. Restaurants and commercial development are on the rise as spots like Nando’s Peri Peri and Ping Pong Dim Sum, which would have NEVER considered DC real estate, are now entrenching themselves in the “capital of the free world.” The Washington Wizards won the NBA Draft Lottery, and the already filled to the brim Verizon Center for the wildly successful Washington Capitals hockey franchise looks to be full for 40 more nights in the winter as well. On a governmental note, though somewhat controversial, mayor Adrian Fenty has spearheaded the passing of gay marriage legislation as well as attempting to make medicinal marijuana a possibility. A rapper with mainstream potential who won’t rap in front of gay people because he doesn’t want NahRight.com or The Smoking Section blog commenters to make jokes? That just doesn’t fit here anymore. We’re off that. On to the next one, and it damned sure isn’t Wale.

In final, I wish he would’ve said this and immediately been punched in the face by a gay male, akin to Charles Hamilton’s career getting floored after he insinuated he impregnated his ex-girlfriend. At least that would’ve had an element of humor and would’ve eased the sting of this revelation. When blatant ignorance goes without comeuppance, it’s truly a sad day. However, I can’t front. I love me some Wale tracks. “Sweatin’ Out Weaves” with UCB, “Pretty Girls,” “Chillin’ (namely Skratch Bastid’s edit) and “My Sweetie” will always get spins. But this guy just can’t share my air anymore. I apologize if he listens to my advice and fills yours, but hopefully by then he’d have learned a lesson and shuts up and tries to gain a fanbase. I don’t care if you spit rhymes like Papoose and have the mainstream appeal of Drake. If you’re signed to a major label and don’t exercise a modicum of self control and media savvy, you’re kinda worthless to me. Tabi, Diamond District, the spotlight’s on you. No fumbles. All touchdowns. The city needs you now more than ever. Shameful.

Not but last week did we spend some time discussing the broader cultural impact of Erykah Badu’s R & B career and her very measured march to mainstream success in discussing new album New Amerykah Part Two. As if straight from central casting, we get her latest video released on the album’s drop date for “Window Seat.” (video after cut) Borrowing from Matt and Kim’s MTV VMA winning clip for “Lessons Learned,” the soul diva takes a very historic walk through her Dallas hometown retracing the path John Kennedy rode before his assassination. This video re-contextualizes the Brooklyn hipster punk-pop duo’s controlled stripped and naked insanity in Times Square, and turns it into something eminently more thought provoking.

Upon her death, blue blood leaks from her body and spells the word “groupthink.” A voice gives a verbal definition, and the video, in its last 45 seconds reaches maximum poignancy. The concept of a “groupthink” mindset in mainstream culture is always a troubling idea to wrap one’s mind around. Large groups of people sharing a similar mindset of how to see the universe and refusing to move and break as individuals is troublesome, and an issue. The fact that Badu herself, a noted non-conformist would be shot, only to re-emerge as some sort of renewed Nubian soul priestess is intriguing, as maybe she’s sacrificing what was once herself to the mainstream “groupthink,” but has the strength to evolve and continue to develop.

On a musical level, it only makes the author lament Lauryn Hill, who as an artist succumbed to such a mindset as her rampant individuality became a commodity and Hill, for a number of reasons lacked the emotional strength to ever be the same. On a social and human level, there’s a clear groupthink mentality that permeates any democratic society, much like our own, as a “first past the post” concept of voting eschews individuality that doesn’t at least capture at minimum 50% of the people all of the time. “Windowseat” as a track isn’t a blow away production, but pause for the video. As always, if Erykah Badu is involved, it’s more than a worthwhile use of your time.

I am almost exactly half the age of the most important artist to the bottom line success of the international music industry. Sixteen year old Justin Bieber is the latest in a long line of fresh scrubbed pop idols to hit the pop music. He’s every bit of Frankie Avalon, David Cassidy, Leif Garrett, Joe McIntyre and Justin Timberlake all rolled into one.

However, last time I checked, none of these artists had a platinum selling EP in one of the music industry’s lowest selling years across the board. Bieber’s no gimmick, a prodigious child progeny of the Myspace and Youtube era, his songs and musical knowledge made available, unfettered for anyone and everyone worldwide to appreciate. The young man was taken in and mentored by none other than Usher, who, if we can remember was 16 when his debut solo album dropped, and was just as fresh faced and precocious as his Canadian protege.

Bieber’s 2009 hit debut single “One Time” may have been my unabashed favorite pop radio song of the year. Written mainly by Tricky Stewart and The-Dream, with production credits including those of vocal arranger Kuk Harrell, there’s no doubt that there’s an uneven mix of studio know how and youthful innocence with a soul inflection at work here, but there’s something truly special and vulnerable in Bieber’s voice that in this journalist’s mind, as well as the minds of millions of teens and pre-teens worldwide is the building block of a legendary career. Youtube clips of the young man doing a guitar friendly reworking of Kanye’s “Heartless” blended with Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me a River” certainly prove otherwise.

His latest album, My World 2.0 which drops today features guest spots from Ludacris and Sean Kingston, and positions him quite well to be the leading voice for a brand new generation of music fans, something the record industry desires, a record buying public in need of a new star that speaks to the one population left that is still in awe of superstardom and talent enough to buy an album. Whether a fan of Bieber’s brand of saccharine and heartfelt teeny bopper jams, do realize that this is the breath of fresh air music absolutely needed, and actually take a listen. You may be surprised.

Diggy – Made you look Freestyle (Flow Stoopid) from Diggy Simmons on Vimeo.

Only the Crookers could make this album. One of the key and most influential grandfathering groups of the current underground dance craze, Bot and Phra, the Italian Stallions of bass have taken the underground completely into the mainstream on their new Southern Fried Records release Tons of Friends released stateside on Monday, March 8th. At 22 tracks with 31 guests, this album is both bloated and audacious. However, in coming off more like a “Now! That What I Call Hipster” compilation more than anything else, the album succeeds, as for the more interested and adventurous typical music listener, the finest quality performers of electro, dub, club, bass, breaks and dance are all here, alongside some of the better vocalists with voices attuned to the unique qualities of the sounds presented.

The only lingering issue with this album lies for the more devoted fans of the musical genres presented. The album features the Crookers turning it back a few notches and presenting VERY pedestrian and mainstreamed takes on very underground musical styles, as, well, you’re not going to get the Debonair Samir “Samir’s Theme” sampling “Big Money Comin’,” nor the electro bombast of their key to their own mainstream success, Kid Cudi’s “Day N Night” remix. Instead you get tracks like Kelis’ hooks on the big bass shaker, ever so remotely dubstep “No Security,” which is as hard as the album gets, as the album shows the Crookers as not being so loud anymore, but instead investing more time in learning how to create grooves, melodies and pop songs. The pop quotient here is extremely high, Roisin Murphy’s two tracks “Hold Up Your Hand” and “Royal T” both exciting, as well as French electro pop wonder Yelle’s “Cooler Couleur” being fun as well.

This album truly exceeds at excess in being everything to everyone. For “OG” hipsters, there’s work here by ex-Bonde do Role femme fatale Marina, Spank Rock and Rye Rye (“Hip Hop Changed” is a lot of fun). If you’re just into the underground, favorites like Miike Snow, Major Lazer, The Very Best and Kid Cudi (“Embrace the Martian” is fantastic) are here, and, if a bottle service kid, Pitbull, Kardinal Offishall and the ubiquitous Will I. Am as well, all in tow. It’s really quite the awe-inspiring tableau.

In final, the electro craze has finally crossed over. The Crookers indeed have Tons of Friends. This album speaks far more to the levels of success that underground dance has achieved as a tightly knit community than to any forward movement of the disparate styles explored on the release. In the game of making money versus making music you personally enjoy, the ultimate battle every underground artist struggles with, the Crookers have shown themselves as victorious, creating a synergy that, while oddly massive, is more collection than album. By having these friends, the Crookers can claim to be at the top of the line, the head of the game. Mission, accomplished.

Download: “Royal T” “No Security” “Transilvania”

Fiona Bloom is a friend to music and known within industry circles for her far reaching Bloom Effect blog and career with multiples of highlights and platitudes. With enough industry experience to know exactly who and what she’s talking about, the PR/Marketing/Promtion wizard has set a solid standard for having a solid ear to what’s bubbling up on the international underground. Every year before SXSW, Fiona sets forth to go through the massive list of artists appearing at SXSW, and with precision, chooses the “Severe 70″ artists for those attending the conference to watch out for. and this year includes a favorite of our site like Mad Decent signed Dominicana chanteuse Maluca, as well as the UK’s VV Brown, and classic faves like Exene Cervenka and Cheap Trick. The list cuts a broad and intelligent swath across genres, and serves as a great touch point for those NOT going as well, as, if you’re in any way enamored with what’s next in music, you have enough quality content to last until, well, next year. If going to SXSW, or if feeling that TGRI’s fairly comprehensive coverage of underground styles isn’t enough, let this be your introduction to the only the best of the best. As a party we are throwing again soon was called, the list is indeed “All Killer, No Filler.” Enjoy.

FIONA BLOOM’S SXSW 2010 SEVERE 70!

For more information on Fiona Bloom, as well as her fun Efficacy project, visit any of the following links:

http://www.twitter.com/fionabloom
http://www.thebloomeffect.com/blog
http://www.thebloomeffect.com
http://www.youtube.com/fionab12
http://www.linkedin.com/fionabloom

1. Gil-Scott Heron’s “New York Is Killing Me.”

I’m New Here

On par with Richard Pryor and The Last Poets as ultimate urban griots whose tales, style and intellect transcend eras, the heavily politicized poetic honesty espoused with harmony of Gil-Scott Heron returns to the music scene with his February 9th release on XL Recordings I’m New Here. The first single off of this album, “New York is Killing Me” may easily be the most graphic discussion of urban and social blight released in the last decade. Heron, who is believed to have lived with HIV for possibly the last decade, and who has done time for cocaine possession still maintains a now wearied baritone that carries forth the sledgehammer of urban honesty like few others.

Need historic proof? 1974′s legendary The Revolution Will Not Be Ttelevised. Get familiar!

2. Major Lazer feat. MIA and Busy Signal – Sound of Siren

So, we finally get the news that our favorite militaristic, Rastafarian, space age and dancehall champion sound is releasing a new EP in April. Many wondered where Diplo’s most famous collaborator was on Guns Don’t Kill People, Lazers Do. Well, she’s apparently on the EP now with massive dancehall toaster Busy Signal on a track that includes all of the telltale signatures of Diplo and Switch’s production on the Major Lazer project, namely snare drums and outer space noises. It goes without saying once again that the respect and decency Diplo and Switch pay to traditional dancehall sounds while at the same time advancing the genre is certainly a wonderful and appreciated sight.

Download Track Here

3. Mickey Avalon is in the studio with Dr. Luke (and Travis Barker, too).

Pop producer Dr. Luke produced some of the most popular and iconic number one singles of the last half of the previous decade, including “Since You’ve Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, “I Kissed A Girl” by Katy Perry, Flo Rida’s “Right Round,” and current target for mainstream angst, Ke$ha’s “Tik Tok.” It would appear that Dr. Luke has decided upon Ke$ha’s success to look in the filthy corners of bottle service clubs to dredge up filthy looking, foul mouthed hipster partiers with non-threatening suburban upbringings and smut tinged hearts of gold. He didn’t have to look far to find Mickey Avalon, the MySpace Music signee whose track “My Dick” is an instant underground classic and set a new standard for hilarious and insipid, potty mouthed, drug an sex fueled jocularity. The above track, “Stroke Me,” a flip on the hip hop sampler beloved Billy Squier’s “The Stroke” is lewd, crude but has a well known hook and catchy production, the new look for any artist associated with the pop maestro. No date has been set for Avalon’s release, but Dr. Luke being involved with Avalon, Shwayze, Dirt Nasty, Cisco Adler, Andre Legacy, Beardo and their Dyslexic Speedreaders crew ABSOLUTELY means that the basement electro hipster pop deluge has ONLY JUST BEGUN.

2. Jonny Blaze takes it to the club for Jesus!

Yes, we’re going back to Bmore and back to the 20+ year veteran for a reason. We’ve gotten an advance copy of Jonny’s upcoming album, and, well, it’s certainly different, it’s absolutely unique, and it’s in a direction that I’m surprised club music hasn’t fully embraced before. Jonny Blaze has gone spiritual on us, the same man responsible for “Head, Titties and Ass” now praising Jesus call and response style, and asking to be “held in his bosom.” I really am of the belief that in a market where people feel that the progression of club music may be limited once hip hop and R & B’s affection with electro dies, this makes all the sense in the world. Baltimore radio has locally always been a suporter of remixes of religious music, Hezekiah Walker‘s “99 1/2′s” club remix a stalwart in the early 90s on 92.3 FM, so there is a precedent. I’m eager to see what would happen if Mahalia Jackson on even more contemporary, Kirk Franklin, or the musically ambitious Mary Mary acapellas ended up being remixed. One can only imagine!

We can’t dare sit around and think we are shocked. The 52nd edition of the Grammy Awards occurred last night, and as expected, the recording industry, in the face of declining record sales and a perceived lack of importance made a dramatic stand for the international mainstream, and in the process delivered an awards program that was perfunctory and devoid of intrigue or controversy, a call to norms instead of a call to arms. In many ways the awards show that has become the stamp of cultural importance has become MTV’s Video Music Awards, the 2009 event being landmark for a lack of adherence to any social or moral compass on one hand, and on the other having a fairytale ability to tell the stories of Taylor Swift and Kanye West. But the Grammies soldiered on, and in the 2010 edition, we learned a great deal about how an industry hunkers down and prepares to make a comeback.

The big trophy winners of the night were the Black Eyed Peas, Taylor Swift, Kings of Leon, Beyonce, Jay-Z and Lady Gaga. These were all worthy champions, but in some cases, the most maligned of artists in the past year. In accepting their award for “Use Somebody” as the Record of the Year, the Kings stated they were “drunk, but a happy drunk,” as the cleaned up indie rock gods finally ascended to the throne of pop royalty so richly deserved.

Lady Gaga by comparison to her MTV Awards histrionics was muted, instead of appearing to have lost all semblance of common and sartorial sense there, last night her fashions were wild, but definitely toned down. Her show opening performance with a slightly less than stellar “Poker Face” was more than made up for with the always excellent Elton John doing a duet of The Fame Monster’s torch ballad “Speechless,” and Sir Elton’s “Your Song.” The bizarrely staged spectacle did more than her two gramophone wins for cementing her growing instant legacy as an icon of gay camp blended with immense and universal entertainment value.

Mr. and Mrs. Shawn Carter were front row center and Beyonce’s six wins is a Grammy record for a female artist, as her maturation into this generation’s Diana Ross is near complete, even shining through a curious choice of performing “If I Were a Boy” and a spirited yet misguided cover of Alanis Morrissette’s “You Oughta Know” while flanked by Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation 1814 era recalling footsoldiers. Her husband took home awards for “D.O.A.” and for “Run This Town,” more nods to his cross cultural importance blended with the excellence of the songs. If anything, from doting on Solange Knowles’ son who was front row center, or Beyonce thanking “her husband,” to Jay-Z appearing to be a proud husband, the Carters are destined to reach pop royalty status as the first family of pop excellence.

As always, fantastic performances dotted the evening. Swathed in white linen then once again dazzling the crowd with Cirque du Soleil level mid-air histrionics, Pink’s “Glitter in the Air” was, as was her performance at MTV’s event that duplicated the feat, the most visually arresting moment of the proceedings. Jamie Foxx, T-Pain, Slash, old school rap legend Doug E. Fresh and a full orchestra gave the most energetic performance of the night, Foxx looking like a Civil War general exhorting the orchestra and crowd to feel every word of the R&B Song of the Year. Drake, Eminem and Lil Wayne with backing on the drums by Travis Barker and a live band gave an excellent but expected performance of “Forever,” easily one of the more pop friendly and successful collaborations of the past year.

Darling of the universe Taylor Swift underwhelmed in the spotlight, as her performance suffered from the inclusion of Fleetwood Mac legend Stevie Nicks, who in one minute ofher guest spot singing “Rhiannon” excised from the minds of millions any belief that Swift was a polished and prime time performer worthy of eight nominations and four victories. Her Album of the Year win for Fearless after her performance feeling more like flash in the pan and guide to country success than promise of pop prominence. Country took a beating again in the performance department with Best New Artist winners the Zac Brown Band performing with pianist Leon Russell. As was the case all night long, experienced veteran performers shined with tremendous poise and charisma when next to their younger counterparts. The final “eh” performance of the night were the Black Eyed Peas who in theory gained the most from the night as their venture into underground dance yielded immense profit, but to borrow a line from Jay-Z, the Peas are the leading force of innovation in pop music right now and appear to be mentally already checked out of the success of The E.N.D. and “on to the next one,” the next style to co-opt, infiltrate and make lucrative.

Props need to be extended as well to the likes of Maxwell, who merely walked onstage and proved his talent in a situation where he needed to be successful. His award winning BLACKsummer’s Night album stands to be a big gainer on the Billboard chart due to his composure and elegance in front of an audience that may have never seen him prior or had completely forgotten how understated yet elegant the superstar R & B vocalist is. The 3D performance of Michael Jackson’s “Earth Song” was tastefully done and moving, if surprisingly unspectacular. Usher, Smokey Robinson, Carrie Underwood, Jennifer Hudson and Celine Dion were flawless, but in bookending it with Michael’s oft paraded for pathos children offering paeans for their dead father, it more signaled a need to finally let the Jackson family have peace and closure than anything particularly awe-inspiring.

The Grammy Awards were more substance than spectacle in a post Kanye West world. He wasn’t there, and neither were any fireworks or histrionic behavior. Sadly, these are now perceived as necessity on music award programs instead of happy accidents. In a recession in a depressed and tired society, the sizzle matters more than the steak. The talents that won were certainly deserving, but on a show where the most shocking thing was host Stephen Colbert’s terrible and forced opening monologue, we were all expecting more. Somehow in expecting more from the hype than from the artists shows just how much we as a society have devalued music on a financial and personal level. The Grammys were a tale of excellence and decadence, a plethora of one, a lack of another, thus providing so many answers about the nature and state of the music industry.

We all missed Corinne Bailey Rae. Her 2006 eponymous debut awed and wowed audiences worldwide. The frail voiced and innocent British beauty was an instant superstar, songs like “Like a Star” and “Put Your Records On” showing a timeless voice that promised a long, profitable and exceptional career. But in an instant, she was gone.

The cause, the sudden and unresolved death of husband Jason Rae which put her aspirations on immediate hiatus as she dealt with the harrowing nature of losing the one you love and putting the pieces back together. Still daunted but now unafraid, we get her sophomore release The Sea, an album which still shows Rae has her vocal chops and songwriting of great promise, but is flawed in the execution in such a manner that it drowns away the answers and hopes of a music public hoping for closure for the artist and wanting her return to 2006 form.

By comparison, Rihanna emptied a lyrical and production full clip. Alicia, well, she yearned and exhaled on record. Corinne Bailey Rae somehow it would seem deserved better than what she has here. It’s a noble effort, but again, a failed execution which is sad, because, in a soul pop market laden with talent, to expect more and hear less is unfortunate, but thus and so is the case of this album.

Download: “The Sea” “I’d Do It All Again”