"The Hard Way" Review
Sorry, Amy: Apparently the U.K.'s retro-soul movement isn't all about the ladies. On his latest set of good old-fashioned R&B, this British crooner continues to be possessed by the ghost of Ray Charles.
Interview/Performance
Watch it here.
Smoking Section by Austin Scaggs
All it took was 10 seconds of listening to "The Hard Way," the title track from Brit soul man James Hunter's third U.S. album, before we knew the disc was unbelievably awesome. "Ten seconds?" says the cheeky singer. "We must be losing our touch." Recorded at Toe Rag Studios in London (where the White Stripes cut Elephant), accented by Hunter's tasty guitar and subtle horn arrangements, The Hard Way is a career achievement for the bandleader who broke through in 2006 with the Grammy-nominated People Gonna Talk. "When we listened back, we were quite pleased with ourselves," he says. What takes it to another level is Big Easy genius Allen Toussaint, who sings on the title track and plays piano on "Believe Me Baby." Says Hunter, "He wrote every song I like."
Review
James Hunter hails from Colchester, England, but he has American soul running through his blood. A former railroad construction worker who's been championed by Van Morrison, Hunter pays tribute to horn-powered Motown gems and string-laden Philly soul on his second full-length. Producer Liam Watson, the man who mixed and engineered the White Stripes' Elephant, recorded Hunter's six-piece band live on an 8-track tape recorder, with vintage amps and mikes, to achieve a sound that could pass for mono. New Orleans R&B legend Allen Toussaint plays keys and sings backup on three songs, including the swinging opener "The Hard Way," but he never overshadows Hunter's cracked croon. Hunter is an avowed Sam Cooke fan, and on tracks like "Tell Her," he sounds like a dead ringer for his idol, calmly crooning over a melody that recalls Cooke's "You Send Me." The album's highlight is the jazzy horn rave-up "Don't Do Me No Favours," where Hunter cackles, yelps, shouts and bellows about refusing to take handouts from a rich man. On cuts like these, Hunter proves he's more than just a retro-soul act — the guy's got fire in his gut.
James Hunter makes 'The Hard Way' easy
Critics, in their effusive praise, wrong-peg Hunter as a revivalist purist of the Sam Cooke/Jackie Wilson school, but his music takes in a wide range of influences, including '50s piano-based R&B, early Skatalites horn charts, an almost post-modern guitar deconstruction of Ike Turner or Hubert Sumlin, and the New Orleans R&B of Allen Toussaint, who guests on Hunter's "The Hard Way," the follow-up album to the 2006 Grammy-nominated "People Gonna Talk."
I chatted with Hunter while he was traveling to the Stir Summer Concert in Council Bluffs, Iowa, where he was opening for Willie Nelson. He seemed happy, as befits a man whose album hit No. 1 on the Billboard blues chart last week. "I think that after 20 years we finally got good at what we were doing," he said with a chuckle.
Full article here
Review
Sexy songs to charm your pants off.
Sure, James Hunter's music is an intentional throwback to a different era, but he picked a great one: that heady time when Sam Cooke and Jackie Wilson crooned satin-smooth soul over cool jazz/blues arrangements; when a guy could sing simple lyrics and lay on pizzicato strings without a whit of irony. What a wonderful world this could be—especially if you sex up the suave delivery with a stuttering, lo-fi guitar break or James Brown growl. With analog recording, Hunter's buttery voice and primitive Les Paul playing and a muscular double-sax section, this follow-up to People Gonna Talk re-renders the art of musical seduction even more convincingly than Hunter's mentor Van Morrison.
Winehouse Who?
While everyone has waxed ecstatic about soul revivalists like Amy Winehouse and now Duffy, the artist everyone needs to really be paying attention to is fellow Brit James Hunter (above). He's a genuine purveyor of vintage soul without the affectation so many of his peers are prone to.
On "The Hard Way" (Hear Music), his new album out June 10, Hunter sounds even more genuine and effortless than on 2006's overlooked "People Gonna Talk." There's not a false moment here, and the short, pointed songs - all beautifully arranged - evoke classic '50s and '60s R&B without coming across as pale imitations.
Review
Although his commercial fortunes had not yet matched theirs by the time this album was released, James Hunter had been promoting the revival of classic-era soul for a couple decades before fellow Brits Amy Winehouse, Corinne Bailey Rae, and Joss Stone came along. His command of the idiom has never been less than thorough and convincing-- without knowing that the songs on The Hard Way were newly recorded, anyone might guess that this retro feast was a long-lost gem from 1966. Hunter's voice is equal parts grits and silk, somewhere between Sam Cooke smooth and Bobby "Blue" Bland scorched, and his small combo of sympathetic players could easily have found work in the studios of Hi, Stax, or Chess back when this style reigned. Compared to Hunter's last, 2006's Grammy-nominated People Gonna Talk, The Hard Way, his debut for Hear Music, is a tad tougher-- the horns are more prominent and sharper, Hunter's guitar has more bite to it, and the rhythms cut deeper-- and quicker; at times Hunter veers closer to soul-rock than he has in the past, but he's still working well within his favorite genre. Hunter, as always, is a riveting vocalist-- his singing grabs and never lets go. He handles both the lazy, bluesy tunes and the sweatier uptempo R&B with equal commitment and style, sounding as natural as can be as he tells his tales of love and the lack of it. On the slinky blues ballad "'Til the End," one of a few tunes on which he is joined by New Orleans legend Allen Toussaint, Hunter takes his time spilling out his doomsday scenario of a relationship gone down while the drums, bass, and horns lope along minimally. When he unfurls his brief guitar solo midway, it's economical but searing. On the rocking "Jacqueline" a doo-woppy chorus and squalling sax fill in the holes, and for the title track, a Cooke ringer, the Echo Strings add muscle and sass to the arrangement. Dancefloor denizens once ached for tunes this beat-crazy and would do well to reacquaint themselves with the real deal via James Hunter.
Review
There are some who wrote off James Hunter's last album, People Gonna Talk, as the work of a misguided nostalgia buff. Evidently, that didn't bother the guitar-slinging Colchester soul man, who returns to his 60s touchstones of Marv Johnson and Georgie Fame for the unapologetically retro R&B of The Hard Way.
Hunter makes no attempt to hide his influences while pursuing a more sophisticated sound. On the contrary, he openly honours his forebears, much like his mentor Van Morrison once did, by building on their legacy with well-written songs performed with heartfelt conviction. It helps enormously that Hunter is a superb string bender and has producer Liam Watson (the White Stripes) recording his combo playing live in the studio, accompanied by New Orleans great Allen Toussaint adding perfect piano fills and vocals. If you thought no one made albums like this any more, they don't so enjoy The Hard Way.
"The Hard Way" Album Review - 5 STARS (out of 5)
Colchester R&B wunderkind James Hunter's follow-up to 2006's People Gonna Talk was recorded with Liam Watson at the latter's analogue refuge Toe Rag Studios, with none other than New Orleans piano legend Allen Toussaint adding his inimitable piano to several tracks.
His collaborators are well-chosen: Hunter has a natural feel for the kind of late-Fifties soul and blues stylings prized by both men, as ably demonstrated on the jumping R&B of She's Got A Way and the rolling rhumba-rock groove of Believe Me Baby.
Best of all is Don't Do Me No Favours, a New Orleans-flavoured groove featuring an infectious combination of syncopation and slide, with a terse, springy guitar break and organ solo pitted against warmly riffing horns, with Hunter's blue-eyed home-counties soul vocal leading the way.
Review
Another almost note-perfect recreation of the same pre-Beatles R&B world, this follow-up smoothly mainstains the good work with songs that recall the likes of The Drifters and even early James brown.
"The Hard Way" Album Review - 4 STARS (out of 4)
IF you ask Van Morrison which contemporary musician he most admiers, chances are his Irish lilt will form the words "James Hunter". James has toured with Van, his retro soul sound a perfect match for the great man.
And his latest album marks the flowering of his considerable talents, help in no small way by the analogue recording techniques of producer Liam Watson at his Toe Rag Studios in Hackney.
The effect is a glorious unaffected album, reverential of past times without wallowing in nostalgia. And watch out for a very special guest appearance by legendary New Orleans pianist Allen Toussaint.
Interview by Michelle Norris
To hear the complete archived interview, CLICK HERE.
English Singer With the Slithery Soul Groove of American Rhythm and Blues
Studiously recreating the delicate and comforting soul sound of Cooke, Jackie Wilson and lesser-known figures like Roy Hamilton and Little Willie John, Mr. Hunter has mastered a territory of American music beloved by fans and collectors worldwide. And with touches of Chuck Berry guitar and some falsetto shouts from the playbook of James Brown, his style is too eclectic to be easily pigeonholed.
People Gonna Talk Review
Colchester, England, native James Hunter has long been championed by no less an R&B gatekeeper than Van Morrison, and one listen to these fourteen Hunter-penned gems will incite a rush to second that endorsement.
Bits of Van the Man and Sam Cooke can be heard in the aching grain of Hunter's voice, but his clearest antecedent is Charlie Rich, the Sun Records singer whose late-Fifties/early-Sixties sides hit the sweet spot where country, soul and rock & roll come together.
People Gonna Talk was produced by Liam Watson at Toe Rag (the strictly vintage-gear London studio that birthed the White Stripes' Elephant), and its laid-back title track combines a reggae rhythm and pizzicato strings for something timeless yet fresh. The double-saxophone attack of tenor man Damian Hand and baritone Lee Badau swings hard on "Tell Her for Me," and "'Til Your Fool Comes Home" is a wry warning against philandering where Hunter's twangy guitar comes down like the lash.
Ten years after his debut long-player, Believe What I Say, came out in the U.K., Hunter's first album to see stateside release is a treat not to miss.
People Gonna Talk Review
Proving that soul knows no color or nationality, British singer James Hunter channels Sam Cooke, Ray Charles and Jackie Wilson on a U.S. debut that uncannily captures the essence of vintage '50s and early '60s R&B.
Hunter, who has released two previous discs overseas, wraps his rich voice around self-penned songs that sound as if they have been preserved in a time capsule. Although the nostalgia act wears a bit thin toward the end of the album, by then the charming Hunter has won you over. Three stars.
Hunter Takes Aim at Soul
James Hunter is little more than the sum of his influences, but when those are Sam Cooke, Smokey Robinson and James Brown, who could ask for more? The British blue-eyed sould singer, praised by Van Morrison as one of music's best voices and best kept secrets, is creating a stir in his homeland and deserves the spotlight here for this 14-track treasure, his first U.S. release.
A throwback to early '60s R&B, Hunter, 43, has a honeyed voice that slides into a crystal falsetto and delivers lyrics without histrionics that began bedeveling soul records in the lates '60s. He plays a wicked guitar and leads a horn-pumped band through ska (the title track), funk ("No Smoke Without Fire"), torch ("Mollena") and unadorned R&B arrangements of sublime soul that recall Cooke, Jackie Wilson, Howard Tate and an era worthy of revival.
Live Concert Review
Ever sat around lamenting the dearth of baritone sax solos on the radio? Do you pine for a truly heartfelt contemporary take on pre-rock American R&B? Need a fix of that sweet soul music? Do we have an act for you.
James Hunter brought his satisfying take on early '50s R&B and early '60s soul to the sold-out Mint in Los Angeles on Tuesday, and time stood still. Check that: Time spun back and forward again as the Engish singer-guitarist led a five-piece combo through a checklist of familiar yet fresh sounds delivered with a purposeful style and cool charm.
The first number had a swingin' Jackie Wilson feel, with an easy falsetto, some goofy vocal sound effects and Hunter rhythmically thumping his guitar. From there, the sound and show bounced from Sam Cooke soul to James Brown funk, from jumpin' jive to smooth blues, often taken from that once-removed Van Morrison/Boz Scaggs perspective. The only real drawback was the lack of a dance floor so the dinner crowd could let their feet do what their minds were thinking.
Spiced by the yin/yang of dual saxophones, Hunter and his band reveled in explorations of the colliding styles that fed the earliest rock 'n' roll, along with some forced entry into the Stax building. He is touring behind his first U.S. release, "People Gonna Talk," which has been getting attention on NPR and AC radio and is No. 2 on the Billboard blues chart. The title track had a Caribbean vibe, the foot-shufflin' "Riot in My Heart" recalled Mose Allison, and Hunter tried just a little B.B. King-style guitar on "No Smoke Without Fire."
Spanning 18 short songs in 80 minutes, Hunter's playful show featured a savvy mix of originals and covers. The latter included a pair by the "5" Royales and a spot-on Nat King Cole tribute on "The Very Thought of You." For the latter he stripped his band down to a trio, with stand-up bass and muted drums, and the room became hushed; even the bartenders seemed to take a few minutes off.
As a songwriter and interpreter, Hunter has a knack for making ancient riffs sound young again. Whenever he leaned toward a lift of someone else's style, he would veer just in time. He also showed off a droll lyrical bent, ticking off back-atcha lines like, "You didn't know my heart would mend and you'd take my place on the receiving end."
With musical influences obviously culled from scratchy 78s and 45s, Hunter played and kibitzed with an uninhibited enthusiasm. Genial, modest and genuine, he's hard not to like.
Live Concert Review
Taking vocal cues from Sam Cooke and James Brown and wrapping them in the cozy warmth of deep saxophone sounds, James Hunter has revived the soul music of the early 1960s with elan and substance.
The Brit arrives here with the endorsement of his former boss, Van Morrison, a sharp and sultry debut album ("People Gonna Talk" on Rounder) and a stage show that could have played Vegas and Beale Street four decades ago.
Cheerful and boyish -- and fronting a band that has the look of an Animals-inspired unit in 1965 -- Hunter works in compact tunes that leave the listener always hoping for the groove to keep going. His twist is to add a little ska or a shuffle the way Rosco Gordon did on his early Memphis recordings or bring out intense, clipped guitar leads and turn a tune bluesward.
Last year's fine Cooke reissuereissue series from Abkco included live discs that demonstrated the gospel-trained singer's many facets. Hunter understands those roots as well as any Cooke disciple, black or white, yet he succeeds in escaping the trap of mimickry or subservience to the original sound.
He has penned gems -- the title track and "Mollena," though all his tunes have merit -- and he is venturing into swampier terrain by lifting the "Treat Her Right" groove for the new tune "Don't Do Me No Favor.".
Already an artist who seemingly impresses everyone who hears his album, live show at a packed Mint proves he has more sides than the record suggests. Just like a Cooke record.
James Hunter: A Classic R&B Revival
To hear James Hunter's live performance on The World Cafe with David Dye CLICK HERE.
People Gonna Talk Review
Truly a man, and an album, out of time, James Hunter travels back to the '60s for this slinky shot of retro soul-blues. The singer/guitarist/cartoonist's (he draws the comical caricatures of the band in the liner notes) third album for his third label, isn't a departure from previous releases, but it summarizes what he does best. Kicking off with the Caribbean breeze of the title track, things quickly shift to the funky Austin Powers soul of "No Smoke Without Fire." Hunter's combo of twin saxes, bass, drums, and his own tasty guitar makes for unique jazz/blues/pop that has its roots in Ray Charles' small combo, King Curtis, and Van Morrison's early-'70s work, in particular His Band and the Street Choir. Vocally, Hunter's croon falls on the smooth Sam Cooke side of Boz Scaggs. The album seems like it was made in the late '50s, and the clean sound along with Liam Watson's spacious production is the only giveaway that it was recorded in 2005. None of this would amount to much though if the songs didn't connect, and these do. Perfectly written and arranged, these are each polished gems with instantly memorable choruses and lyrics that although heavy on moon-June-spoon, never sound forced or uncomfortably contrived. Hunter is a punchy, pithy guitarist, cranking out taut solos with the economy of Steve Cropper. Some tunes such as "Talkin' Bout My Love" with its jaunty horns and twistable beat seem like they were grabbed from, or written for, a '60s beach flick. At 14 tracks running 40 minutes, it's over before you want it to be, always the sign of a quality album. An anomaly in 2006 with its mini sax section and sparse, danceable songs, the album nonetheless shimmers with hip-shaking grooves. Although the disc is decidedly retro, it exudes classy, cool fun that feels timeless. An instant party starter, it'll make you want to do the Twist, the Jerk, the Shimmy, and the Mashed Potato, or at least learn how.
By Max Decharne
Blinding new album from the man formerly known as Howlin’ Wilf.
The first thing that hits you is the excellence of the voice. Warm, engaging, seemingly effortless --- James Hunter has a genuinely soulful tone, putting you in mind with Sam Cooke, Ray Charles or Van Morrison fronting Them, and if that sounds like high praise, believe me, it’s supposed to.
By Billy Heller
Take a spin of his American debut platter, the addictive "People Gonna Talk," and you'll imagine him as a contemporary of Sam Cooke or Jackie Wilson, an African-American veteran of the Chitlin Circuit from the 1950s and early '60s.
By Lois Wilson
On ‘People Gonna Talk,’ Hunter’s third solo album, he proves himself blessed with a voice that recalls the heavenly tenor artistry of Sam Cooke, and a songwriting gift to rival such greats as Ray Charles and Van Morrison—see the title track’s blending of a sophisticated yet inflamed delivery with ska, the sublime balladry of Mollena, and the soul-jazz swing of Riot In My Heart. Sweetly vaporizing the decades in between, it’s a potent distillation of vintage soul.
By Jeff Tamarkin
Hunter’s trick is that he doesn’t treat the music as a blast from the past—this is no exercise in retro fawning. Like Van Morrison, Georgie Fame and precious few others before him, Hunter lives so deeply inside the style that it’s not about style at all.
By Josh Baron
With Hunter’s tasty but measured guitar licks, a rhythm section that sways as much as it shuffles and a horn section that punches as easily as it caresses, the band is razor sharp. Add Hunter’s lilting but powerful alto and the combination is deadly.
By Andria Lisle
Forget the old saying, "If your parents don't hate it, it ain't rock 'n' roll." Chances are, James Hunter's soul stylings will have multigenerational
By Andrew Dansby
COVER STORY: Soul Kitchen.
In short, Hunter makes contemporary pop, but he has a beautifully antiquated way of going about it.
By Ken Capobianco
This guy can flat-out sing. If you closed your eyes you'd swear you'd been transported back to a time long before sequencers, when vintage soul singers testified and tantalized. Hunter's voice is rich and understated in tone, and there's plenty of sweat around the edges. And while he sings, he manages to wield a mean guitar, peeling off stinging riffs. The Mo Pitkin's crowd reacts with delight and appreciation. They're getting a show. A slice of soul sensation.
By Jim Caligiuri
People Gonna Talk all right. Then they'll shimmy and shake to one of the classiest records of the year.