Though Janiva Magness began her music career in the 1980s, she didn’t move to Los Angeles and start recording until the 1990s. By that point, radio had fragmented, and the opportunities for soulful blues-based vocalists to break into the mainstream were a great deal more limited. Had she jump-started her career a decade (or two) earlier, she might have ridden the wave of popular blues that found Bonnie Raitt establishing herself commercially. But even with that ship having sailed, it’s surprising that none of Magness’ work broke through alongside the popular neo-soul success of Amy Winehouse, Adele and others. Her award-heavy career has made her a star in the blues world, though, and perhaps that’s the best place for someone who wants to have a long career that stays true to their soul.
Magness picked up a lot of life’s grit at an early age; orphaned in her teens, she spent time on the streets and became pregnant at 17. But she was saved by the blues, and working in a recording studio she graduated from technical work to background singing and eventually to the spotlight. She turned out performances that were tough, sultry and soulful, retooling other people’s material (often surprisingly, such as her version of Matthew Sweet’s “Thought I Knew You“) to meet her artistic needs. But with her latest, she’s dug into the emotions of recent turmoil (divorce, the deaths of friends, family and pets, and a neck injury that almost ended her career) to create her first full album full of original material.
Magness doesn’t spare herself in the analysis, opening the album with an admission of fault and a quest for solid ground. She gives pep talks (“Twice as Strong” and “The Hard Way”), most likely to herself, but still feels loss and longing (“When You Were My King” and “I Need a Man”). The album’s steps towards recovery include hard truths, commiseration and the slow return of trust. There are moments of bargaining (“Mountain”) and recrimination (“Badass”), but the songs are surprisingly light on bitterness. The closer, “Standing,” is sung with a vocal waver whose aching vulnerability brings to mind Ronnie Spector and Patty Scialfa.
Producer Dave Darling frames Magness’ earthiness in arrangements that recall the warm instrumental voices of classic soul, but with a few production touches that lend a modern air. The music seems to buoy Magness willingness to expose herself firsthand, rather than through interpretation. It’s a big step for someone who’d long-since talked themselves out of writing, a step that began with 2012’s Stronger for It, but became a necessity with the past few years’ personal trials. Perhaps she was too busy living her life to think about it as subject matter, but as she demonstrates on this new album, there’s a unique connection to be found with one’s own story. [©2014 Hyperbolium]