A Time to Love by Stevie Wonder
During times of extreme political and social change, Stevie Wonder's voice and songwriting served as cultural and spiritual guideposts to many a listener, often lending insight and a barometer with which to measure the ways of the world. But that was largely during the golden phase of his career, generally regarded as being the late '60s through 1980's Hotter Than July. His work in the mid-'80s through the '90s was marginal in comparison, only hinting at glimpses of former brilliance, sugar-coated by over-polished production and radio-friendly content. So with a decade passing since his last full-length, 1995's Conversation Piece, people waited with bated breath for a sign of his return...and wondered which Wonder would show up: would it be the socially conscious genius who wrote anthems for a generation, or the R&B crooner who dominated quiet storm radio? Thankfully, it's a blend of both. For every forward-moving song with a theme, there's a gentle moment of tranquility to cancel it out. Many of these songs, save for their warm and polished digital production values, could have easily found a home in Talking Book, Music of My Mind, or any of the other albums for which Wonder will forever be praised. In an age when the majority of R&B is about money, drugs, infidelity, or getting it on, Wonder's lyrics (especially during the love songs) recall the simplicity and innocence of early Motown without sounding trite. It's definitely a refreshing change of pace and hopefully something one or two aspiring producers and songwriters are paying attention to. These are love songs of maturity that are carefully crafted, which would more or less explain why it took nearly a decade to get them finalized, with many of them feeling like mature revisitations of the classics. (If "Happier Than the Morning Sun" and "Little Girl Blue" were a pair of teenagers in love, "Sweetest Somebody I Know" is that couple 30 years later at its class reunion.) The jazzy "How Will I Know," featuring Wonder's daughter on lead vocals (the same Aisha sung about nearly 30 years ago on "Isn't She Lovely"), is the gateway to the album's second half, a five-song cycle of ballads and quiet storm jams that will appease fans of Wonder's later work. Especially notable is "My Love Is on Fire," featuring a beautiful guest appearance from jazz flutist Hubert Laws, which exemplifies the other thing that makes A Time to Love the comeback album of the year: the never-ending list of celebrity cameo appearances so extensive it would make Carlos Santana and Clive Davis blush with modesty. Guest appearances from rap pioneer Doug E. Fresh, Bonnie Raitt, Sir Paul McCartney, Kim Burrell, Prince, Kirk Franklin, and India.Arie just scratch the surface of who contributed to this record. It's one Michael Jackson and one Lionel Richie cameo short from being a USA for Africa reunion. But while each artist lends his own style to the mix, the songs definitely remain 100 percent Wonder thanks to his distinctive singing and arrangements. The album begins its landing with "So What the Fuss," a chunky block of funk with a distorted bassline. It served as the lead single and was met with surprisingly little fanfare, especially since it's one of Wonder's most straight-ahead slices of funk in some time. And the album's title track serves as a fitting conclusion to the album, spreading Wonder's message of love and peace as strongly and convincingly as any other song he's ever done. On the whole, A Time to Love is the record Wonder fans have been waiting for, and the wait has more than paid off. Through exploration and balance, A Time to Love finds the two halves of Wonder's adult career finally coming to home to roost in peaceful harmony with one another, and it's one of the finest records he has done in decades.
With 1979’s <i>A Journey Through “The Secret Life of Plants”</i>, Stevie Wonder had experienced another first: a critical flop. While Wonder was publicly blaming Motown for under-promoting the forward-thinking, digitally-produced double album, he was privately toiling on his 19th album in his recently purchased Wonderland studios. The album that emerged, 1980’s <i>Hotter Than July</i>, was a new Stevie for a new decade: For the first time since the late 1960s, Wonder released an album without any larger social commentary or spiritual aims (and, to Berry Gordy’s relief, not a single reference to botany). <i>Hotter Than July</i> is simply a collection of pop-flavoured, exquisitely produced R&B. Given the sonic tenor of the times, a four-on-the-floor groove winds its way through the album’s early moments, when the buoyant “Did I Hear You Say You Love Me” seamlessly segues into “All I Do”, which Wonder had originally co-written during his pre-independence Motown era, and then dusted off and turned into a low-key disco burner. He might not have been arguing for music as a universal language anymore, but he showed on <i>Hotter Than July</i> that he could easily switch genres: On “I Ain’t Gonna Stand For It”, Wonder actually (and successfully) pulls off a country song, while “Master Blaster (Jammin’)” is a reggae-lite tribute to Bob Marley, perhaps Wonder’s only 1970s peer as a global icon of Black music. Though <i>Hotter Than July</i> wasn’t marketed as a political album, Wonder made his voice heard loud and clear on the album’s most pointed songs, which augured some of the most common complaints of the dawning Reagan era—which officially kicked off a month or so after the album’s releases. The slickly funky “Cash in Your Face” played like a sequel to <i>Innervisions</i>’ “Living for the City”, but with a focus on the racist real estate agents who devised all manner of excuses to deny Black Americans the opportunity to purchase a home. The joyous undercurrents and uptempo rhythms of the album-closing “Happy Birthday” were a feint, as this was one of Wonder’s most direct activist anthems, a response to the US House of Representatives’ refusal to make Dr Martin Luther King’s birthday a federal holiday in 1979. While far from Wonder’s best musical work, the spirit of “Happy Birthday” was undeniable, and played a small role in King’s birthday finally being federally recognised in late 1983—with Wonder in the Senate gallery, with Coretta Scott King, to celebrate.
