Slow Train Soul - Mississippi Freestylin’

I don’t know much about music. I don’t know much about bands. I don’t know much about writing.

I can’t sing, either, but I can viscerally feel the strength, the grit, the untapped power that tenses behind Lady Z’s voice like some sliding snake thing. If you’ve ever heard a saxophone played well, played big and slow and woofy, by someone standing right next to you in a quiet room, where you can physically feel the sound but also hear the breathiness of her chest – that’s what she sounds like.

“Slow Train Soul” stretches Lady Z’s big, ripply vocals over partner Morten Varano’s production framework. The juxtaposition of Z’s often bluesy, very tangible voice and Varano’s slick, often minimalist keys brings to mind images that range from dark, bohemian coffee shops to rain-slicked and neon-lit alleys. Ideal songs for a soft post-party mix or the heist scene of some big-budget’s soundtrack.

“Mississippi Freestylin’” is a slight break from that compelling formula, with more presence from Varano’s end than in songs like “Goldiggah” or “In the Black of Night.” But there’s something about the track’s more in-your-face muscle that just works. The syncopated horns of the chorus and the way Lady Z throws her voice around a little more than usual – you can’t help but feel the swagger of this song. Without the bridge, the more heavy-handed approach might have been tedious, but Z drops into a near whisper, the production backs off, and the track reaches its bluesy zenith. Like the opening’s slow build-up, the end of the track backs out, still swaggering, with slowly receding rolls of horns.

I lack the confidence of a critic, and so I won’t rate “Mississippi Freestylin’.” I won’t recommend it. Won’t give it one or two or five thumbs up. But sharing? That I can do. Enjoy.