'Like Neptune' by Son Little
Son Little (born Aaron Livingston) has definitely absorbed old-school rhythm & blues traditions, but he knows what time it is and what year it is. His fourth full-length, Like Neptune, is his idea of what R&B can grow toward in 2022, even as it draws sustenance from aged roots.
Little also draws mostly from himself here, writing, playing, producing, and arranging all but a handful of parts. This creative self-reliance occasionally leads to insularity, which in turn makes absolute sense for a song like “6 AM,” in which Little enhances his worried isolation with electro-pop keyboard squiggles and trills, birdsong, and moments of near silence.
“Drummer,” by funky contrast, creates a band atmosphere with textured percussion, rhythmic electric guitar, a buried bassline felt like a pulse between the hips, and layered vocals that half-demand and half-beg for light, air, forgiveness, and love.
Love, especially: not unlike Leon Bridges, Little has an affinity for soul ballads that reveal the intertwining of desire and vulnerability. “Bend Yr Ear,” for example, turns on the line “And do you have a minute/To let me bend your ear?” while keyboard notes resemble music-box tinkles and acoustic-guitar strumming resembles soft throat-clearing.
Another example, “Stoned Love,” uses a basically firm, fuzzy-edged beat, suitable for hip-hop, as a platform from which Little can try to brag and preen (“My helicopter’s on the roof,” “I will survive you”), although the cracks in his voice point to the cracks in his confidence.
Little has a way of laying cracks into the façade of R&B classicism, as well, with Casio-level synth sounds unsettling the otherwise underhanded groove of “No Friend of Mine,” or with deliberately artificial fanfare bookending the supple naturalness of “Gloria.”
There is nothing unnatural, however, about Son Little’s artistry or emotion on Like Neptune. His work adds fresh tiles to the R&B mosaic, which was never meant to be unchanging.
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