Terence Trent D’Arby
The man who would have been the grittier Prince or the nastier Lenny Kravitz re-emerges after a move to Italy. There’s less sneer and more bliss in the voice, but this is not as disastrous for his music as one might think. He can still shift from growl to falsetto with amazing ease and sophisto-funky bass-lines throb throughout. If a few songs sink in lyrical New Age goo, it’s not enough to blunt his touch with spooky chorale, murky layers or old world charm. He’s mellowed, but not terminally.