Saoul’s Popsicle may be one of the most sobering groovalicious parties in your ear this summer — a satisfying album in the face of “cookie-cutter” celeb culture and politico worship that have packaged themselves to become a new phallic north star for unicultural market appeal. Had enough of unhealthy celeb admiration, and public debates about a U.S. President’s Spotify playlist? Saoul has an answer: Wake. Up. And. Dance.
But Saoul’s been trying to tell this world, well before COVID-19, that we need to taste the bread and seize joy. His latest 10-song set — all written, produced, and performed by the artist — remains consistent but stresses that we need to be ourselves. After all, like the album’s second track tells us — in the faces of those Instagram-ready messianic aspirants — all our lives will have rounds of “Sex Rain and Coffee”. The high-spirited song in reference drives its 4/4 rhythmic point with an updated Midwestern Funk vibe. “Right Here” is another head nodder that is about as solid as any modern R&B tune that takes a glance at the past while remaining dead-focused on future forms. The satirical and bright “Carousel”, save for its subject matter, is a party starter with sonic appeal to a wider Pop audience.
Broad audiences aside, Saoul makes clear in the Modern Soul-heavy “Music Box” that he’s a lover of Dance music but not an artist for the creative zeitgeist:
Manufactured plastic deep-fake rock and roll;
AI-generated cookie cutter like we’re on some talent show.
—Saoul, “Music Box”
Saoul clearly isn’t a fan of “cookie-cutter” culture; the album references the phrase twice.
Give the slower-tempo tunes a listen — especially since we’re treated to Saoul’s guitar solos. While some popular artists appear to have a musical embrace for post-1985 R&B music, Saoul’s inspirational “When She Smiles” and “Sex Attack (Innerlude)” offer the kind of early-80s smooth R&B — with its bass emphasis, and emotional appeals — that would arguably grab an O’bryan fan’s attention. “Good Things (Innerlude)” is also a downtempo throwback that rests on synth chords. I challenge you not to sway while you listen.
The title track closes out this collection of life advice and sounds like a fun salute to the 1980-81 version of Prince — revolutionary Rock and Roll and all. Plus, Saoul treats you to more of his guitar.
I almost never form opinions after listening to an album once — especially since I always commit to at least three complete listens — but I quickly summed up the album’s message in an allegory after five songs in: the dancefloor is filling up while you’re holding up the wall.
I ended up voting for the simple metaphor Saoul used: “Life is a popsicle, so lick it.”
You deserve fun, and listening to Popsicle delivers more than what’s expected by defining a path to the future of Funk and R&B while discarding none of the genres’ roots. The album is out now. Hit Saoul’s Bandcamp page or stream the album at the usual spots.
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