Just as his 2023 album wasn't a straightforward tribute, ' 2024 follow-up, , isn't merely a throwback to the year of the singer's birth. In essence, a little over half of the set achieves release on the dancefloor and in the bedroom, and the remainder is more reflective and sonically adventurous. Sensuality fuels the first side and seeps into the second side, beginning with a pair of caressing ballads frictionized by 's twists on -style drunken drums. The next two songs, rhapsodic, slick, and as seductive as what precedes them, evoke prime and -era -- from 's driving low-end synthesizer to 's wriggling rhythm guitar -- distinguished by ' buttery vocals and casual swagger. "Black Orpheus (Don't Look Back)" reverts to ballad mode with a philosophical look at companionship. cited as an inspiration for the album, and the low-profile legend's work, particularly on 's and his own -- landmarks of quiet storm eroticism issued months apart in 1976 -- is especially felt in the love ballads. 's sound and vision open up with "Dark Side of the Sun" ("a prayer for broken-hearted people") and "Place of Worship," global gospel-folk fusions with respective featured appearances from stern Congolese-Belgian rapper and comforting Brazilian singer/songwriter . The last two songs are among ' heaviest. Backed by only piano and strings, he delivers a poised outpouring of grief on "For Trayvon," masterfully switching in one early line from solemn baritone to despairing falsetto, and staying in the latter range until fadeout. then returns to his hometown of Minneapolis for "38th & Chicago," the site of George Floyd's murder. The energy increases for this second song written in response to a racist killing. It's a rolling groove that, in a way, reimagines with involved to apply some Afro-Brazilian influence. The breeziness is certainly at odds with ' feelings of terror, anger, and frustration, but its steady propulsion, combined with a burning solo and a conga break, signify resolve, defiance, and power. ~ Andy Kellman