Gil Scott-Heron
I'm New Here
Rating: 4.0/5.0
Label: XL Recordings
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" is certainly utter cliché by this point; from getting co-opted for the titles of one million magazine feature articles, to its use as a title for a documentary on Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez and even as far as being paraphrased in a Monster Magnet lyric, Gil Scott-Heron's most popular dose of his unique and prescient blend of satirical, spoken black thought and inner-city soul is perceived at this point, as taken for granted at best and at worst, dated, hokey counter-culture backwash.
But I beg you, listen to it; forget what Scott-Heron may have inspired with the track- the ponderousness of Def Poetry Jam comes to mind- but listen at face value. In less than three minutes, Scott-Heron delivers an atom bomb of cultural criticism; people are good for complaining and doing nothing, content to give duty of their intellectual stimulation to television ads rather than actually taking a stand for themselves or their communities and as for the '60s counter-culture, Scott-Heron saw his peers as folks whose motto should've been "tune in, turn on, cop out." "The revolution will be live," Scott-Heron insisted with the urgency of a street corner prophet, over a jazz-funk band whose pace seemed to suggest that a change was going to take place, regardless of whether the listener was ready for or approved of it.
Since his '70s heyday, Gil Scott-Heron's place in contemporary culture became indistinct, as rappers with less thoughtful and more salient rhymes gained exposure and made millions off "reporting" inner-city plight. Having released only a handful of material in the '80s and even less in the '90s, Scott-Heron, who continued to tour, found himself in and out of jail in the last half of the '00s, convicted of cocaine possession charges. I'm New Here, produced by XL label head Richard Russell, represents a sort of resurfacing for Scott-Heron, a sincere, weathered collection of poems and covered songs that shift away from the social concerns with which he's associated, toward the product of an elder artist taking stock of more personal concerns.
I'm New Here begins and ends with two installments of "On Coming From a Broken Home," where, over Russell's electronic backing (here, a Kanye sample), Scott-Heron movingly eulogizes his mother and grandmother, whom raised him to be a man, despite keeping what white "-ologists" would define as an ineffectual household. Immediately following is a cover of Robert Johnson's "Me and the Devil Blues," Scott-Heron unexpectedly belting out the lyrics over what sounds like a Dummy outtake. The title track features solemn arpeggios from guitarist Pat Sullivan while Scott-Heron documents personal reinvention; his suddenly sung "No matter how far gone you gone/ You can always turn around," is goose bump-inducing each and every time. "Where Did the Night Go" sounds like Third, this time, while Scott-Heron ponders his self-isolation during a split: "Fuck a job and money/ 'Cause I spend it all on unlined paper/ And can't get past/ 'Dear Baby, how are you?'"
I first wondered, when learning about I'm New Here, if the record would contain the kind of Blaxploitation funk that Scott-Heron was famous for; it's so tied to its time that I wondered how a new record would be pulled off. Russell's electronics always sound appropriate but at times also sound canned. The rapier wit borne of anger we associate with Scott-Heron doesn't show much on the record, its small contributions being "Your Soul and Mine" and "Running" and the 28 minute running time is at first upsettingly brief, as though Scott-Heron teeters on the precipice of dropping something devastating on the listener but never delivers. But taken at face value, I'm New Here stands as a substantial release by a man who, if not full of his youthful verve, speaks with a voice that comes straight from a bruised, wizened heart. Authoritative, chilling and sometimes achingly human, Scott-Heron's weathered voice is a very welcome thing in 2010.
by Chris Middleman
