the complete D'Angelo, 1974–2025
mourning an artist who made one of the best LPs by anyone of my generation
For those near New York City, I have two local announcements: I’m co-hosting a friend’s book launch in Manhattan on Saturday, November 22nd, and I’m distributing a new print-only zine I edited called Is Not Music. Scroll halfway down this newsletter for more details.
# of Tracks: 70 recordings
Length: 6 hours
Themes: one of the 21st century’s most discerning and meticulous recording artists ~ syncopated, offbeat, sensual funk ~ a devotion to the aesthetics and traditions of Black musical genius ~ an Aquarian, a Soulquarian & a virtuoso of progressive sound steeped in tradition ~ the enduring influence of his peer J. Dilla on creating a new kind of beat ~ work so deep that any genre tag (neo-soul, R&B) barely captures it
Links: Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube
It’s been about a month since D’Angelo died, and the feeling still lingers, the sense of his unique and beautiful energy drip-draining from our world. As an artist, he was both dazzling and reclusive, perfect yet troubled, spiritual yet sensual and, through it all, more engaged with the musical traditions that shaped him than almost any of his entertainer peers.
Many who have tried to explain D’Angelo in the wake of his early death from cancer last month, have rightfully compared him to icons like Prince, Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield, or his contemporary Erykah Badu. But I wonder why I haven’t heard more comparisons to Al Green—the way each of them made spirituality and sexuality conjoin with a similar sense of poise, intimacy, and sincerity.1
In my time working in music, I’ve known a few artists who (briefly) had the mantle of “generational artist” or “genius” thrust upon them.2 All of them failed to meet those early expectations. Which is to say, D’Angelo’s retreat from public life was tragic but not uncommon in the rarefied air he occupied. Nor was his early death all that shocking. As Harmony Holiday wrote in her elegy-slash-riff-slash-personal-reflection3 on D’Angelo’s death (and her childhood):
No one tells you then, born into music and indentured there, that you are not rare, your father, Prince, D’Angelo, MF DOOM, Michael Jackson, the man you’ve tried to love forever, as black musicians in this tradition, they would all be gone or diluted by their 5th decade... Tragedy like this was not rare, and in fact it became so common we laughed nervously at God’s wrath in the face of it, and longed to be better singers.
There is a saying in history “To the victors go the spoils”; there is another saying about being as blessed with power and talent as D’Angelo was: “heavy is the head that wears the crown.”4
This post is my own small memorial to D’Angelo, as I want to remember him. That is, I want to remember him in full. This is not a greatest-hits or best-of collection but, rather, a comprehensive record of a rare artist whose discography is unblemished by weak moments. This is six hours of perfection. Mostly I want you to listen along with me. (Start with Voodoo.)
Find the playlist on… Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube5
This post is part of my Artist Primers playlist series—human-curated entry points into the discographies of some major artists and cult figures. Those playlists are only available to paid subscribers.
The playlist includes songs such as…
^ D’Angelo with Chalmers “Spanky” Alford, Rafael Saadiq, Ali Shaheed Muhammad & Amir “?uestlove” Thompson: “Lady” (live on the Chris Rock Show, February 14, 1997)
^ D’Angelo: “Untitled (How Does It Feel)” (2000)
^ D’Angelo and The Vanguard: “The Charade” (on Saturday Night Live) (2015)
^ D’Angelo: “Unshaken” [Created for the Red Dead Redemption 2 soundtrack.6 Here is the music, in context, beginning around the 49 second mark.]
Some New York City things:
• Bootsy Holler’s Making It: I’ll be co-hosting a launch event for my friend Bootsy’s new photo book, which is subtitled “an intimate documentary of the Seattle indie, rock & punk scene.” We’ll be chatting-in-public at 11am this Saturday November 22 at Leica Gallery, 406 W. 13th St, Manhattan, NYC (map).
The book features pictures of musicians from Bootsy’s time in the Pacific Northwest. Joining us will be Nabil Ayers, president of Beggars Group US, and author of a book about his family, his father, and music. I expect we’ll end up talking about our respective experiences participating in scrappy little creative scenes, all the trauma and joy. RSVP here but you can also just show up.
