Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, March 18, 1995 TAG: 9503230002
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: B12 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DAN DELUCA KNIGHT-RIDDER/TRIBUNE
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
At Spike Lee's request, Wonder got busy in 1991 to write and record 11 bright, charming songs in just a few months for the director's interracial romance, ``Jungle Fever.'' But it was 1987 - when Ronald Reagan was president and Motown labelmates Boyz II Men were still in high school - that Wonder released the underrated ``Characters,'' his last proper solo album.
``Conversation Peace'' (Motown), released this week, was conceived as one of Wonder's more grandiose efforts. Work was begun before the turn of the decade, and by the time ``Jungle Fever'' interrupted him, the 44-year-old singer, composer and multi-instrumentalist had reportedly written 150 songs for potential inclusion in the project.
In its 13-song final form, ``CP'' is neither 1976's brilliant ``Songs in the Key of Life'' nor 1979's infamous ``Journey to the Secret Life of Plants,'' to name two of Wonder's previous magnum opuses. Once again, Wonder is telling us that there is beauty in us all and that we live our lives interconnected. But his ebullient plea for harmony is expressed less magically, in music less transcendent than we expect from him.
``Conversation Peace'' begins with the rumble of thunder and a plea to the Creator to ``Rain Your Love Down.'' ``Let us start over again, so that we can live up to your master plan,'' Wonder cries, his voice spiraling skyward, before bringing the song to a close with the muted couplet: ``Rain your love down on all mankind, 'cause we are so out of order and out of line.'' From there, ``CP'' ministers to the planet's dried-up soul, and searches the human spirit for answers.
Wonder is an enthusiastic apostle: On ``Edge of Eternity,'' he throws down a horn-fueled dare to step with him onto a spiritual plane. ``Sensuous Whispers'' enlists Anita Baker, Branford Marsalis and Terence Blanchard in a jazzy jam that is an implicit critique of the hump-and-grind that characterizes much contemporary black pop. And on the title track, the 17-time Grammy winner evokes slavery, the Holocaust and ethnic cleansing, and leads Sounds of Blackness in a call for understanding: ``Me for you and you for me. There's no chance of world salvation unless the conversation's peace.''
The small miracle of ``Conversation Peace'' is that Wonder gets away with sentiments that would sound like hopeless platitudes in less talented hands. His melodic and rhythmic talents are intact, his voice is as effervescently soulful as ever, and as always, his musicianship is staggering. (On ``Take the Time Out,'' he dabbles in South African township jive - with an assist from Ladysmith Black Mambazo - and plays all the instruments, pulling the song off without a hitch.)
Wonder has justifiable faith in his own imagination. ``I'm going to treat myself to all the pretty places in my head,'' he sings to the jittery rhythm of ``Treat Myself,'' and they sound like wonderful places to visit.
But he doesn't always take us there. Despite the satisfaction to be derived in simple vamps such as ``Cold Chill'' or the celebratory ``I'm New,'' ``CP'' is missing the irresistible lift and essential grit of classic Stevie. Without the on-the-street realism of ``Livin' for the City'' or the righteous celebration of ``Happy Birthday'' or even the contemporary context of ``Jungle Fever, Conversation Peace'' doesn't have any edge.
Wonder muses on greed, hunger, homelessness, misogyny, violence and racism, and his heart is always in the right place. But in songs in which he could get down to specifics, he makes generic pleas for charity.
Consider ``Take the Time Out,'' which has doubled as the anthem for American Express's ``Charge Against Hunger'' campaign to feed the homeless. For all its musical dexterity, it never puts a human face on its subject. What's more, its South Africanisms make Wonder sound like he's playing catch-up with Paul Simon, whose ``Graceland'' is now almost a decade old.
As far as the ballads go, there's nothing here as irksome as ``I Just Called to Say I Love You.'' But both the absolute devotion of the first single, ``For Your Love'' and the unsalvageably icky ``Taboo to Love,'' present Wonder in his cloying mode, and neither is likely to enliven your day.
There's a buoyant, reggae-fied tune in the middle of ``CP'' called ``Tomorrow Robins Will Sing,'' that includes an impressively tossed-off dancehall rap. ``Tomorrow blue jays will fly, so dry those tears from your eye,'' Wonder sings, his voice conveying an unshakable faith in the future.
But his optimism isn't as infectious as it once was, and that's the problem.
Wonder doesn't make us hear those birds singing as clearly as he used to.
by CNB