My first exposure to Solomon Burke was through a tune from the classic, essential Stax holiday record The Original Soul Christmas, which included his performance of "Presents for Everybody." Boisterous and jubilant, seemingly igniting the Christmas spirit in the studio with the sheer force of his voice, the song is still required listening for me every December.
Now Solomon Burke is experiencing one of those late-career renaissances where a cadre of superstar musicians, songwriters, and producers repay their own debts to a legendary artist by helping him craft new music in the studio. Like a Fire is Burke's latest release in a string of such albums, which kicked off in 2002 with the release of Don't Give Up On Me, a critical favorite that also earned Burke a Grammy award.
Much like Burke's previous album, Nashville, Like a Fire attempts to gravitate toward the genre where Burke had his first commercial success, country. Unfortunately, what the record seems to be lacking is exactly what makes for good country music--real grit and gristle.
You can't fault Burke and his team for busting out the pedal steel and heading in this direction--country crossover records are making big hits for acts like Bon Jovi and Jessica Simpson--and unlike most crossovers, Burke has the pedigree to deserve a spot on the new country bandwagon.
It's just hard to listen to this hardcore soul singer surrounded by so much soulless studio sheen--the musicians and backing tracks give off the vibe of seasoned session players plucking out passable performances while they ponder their grocery list or the jet ski they'll be buying with the proceeds from their honest day's work. In that sense, Like a Fire is anything but.
The songwriting doesn't help much either. The title track is an Eric Clapton castoff that sounds like it missed the cut in the "Change the World" sessions, and although it has a few intriguing chord changes, it kicks off the album with a dull thud. That same low-key pace is maintained throughout the album; there's nothing wrong with low-key music, of course, except that there's an essential vitality missing throughout. Only one track seems to push back the polished veneer and get funky, "A Minute to Rest and A Second to Pray," and it's not enough to invigorate the rest of the album.
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