Leon Bridges, a 25-year-old Fort Worth native with a golden voice, is wholly comfortable living in the past. His Columbia debut Coming Home deftly recalls all the well-bronzed giants of soul—your Aretha, your Otis, and especially, in Bridges' case, Sam Cooke. This kind of soul revival, brought over the last decade by places like Daptone Records and artists like the Alabama Shakes, the late Amy Winehouse and others, has been almost universally embraced by (mostly older, white) music fans. (Bridges commented on this phenomenon recently in The Guardian, saying "I have a song called "Brown Skinned Girl", and I ask 'Where my brown-skinned girls at?' And there's maybe one or two in the crowd. It's a little awkward sometimes.") Regardless of skin tone, fans of classic R&B will dig this album as it wholly echoes the tropes we associate with the genre: Tons of reverb, backing female singers, organ, complementary horn arrangements, doo-wops, ballads, songs of love, loss and pretty girls who can shake that thing across several municipalities.
In other hands, this could be the eHow entry for "How to make a retro soul record". But Bridges has the talent and respect for the genre not to ham it up. Thanks to a backing band featuring Josh Block and Austin Jenkins of Austin-based utility players White Denim (whose 2013 album Corsicana Lemonade deserves your attention), the tunes sound equally timeless and consistent. Bridges can sing magnificently, and has the obvious Sunday choir-honed chops. There is an appealing gentleness to his voice, and to his record, that sets him somewhat apart.
There are some annoyances, however. Nostalgia is one thing, but true artists find a way to interject themselves into their music even if they're paying homage to a classic genre (Bridges would do well to revisit the work of labelmate Raphael Saadiq, who did classic soul with his own unique spin). While he obviously has good intentions, at times, Bridges can't help but come off as an imitator. There's rarely any urgency in this album, even when he's promising a lost love that he would literally swim the Mississippi River to get her back ("Better Man"). Therein lies the main issue with Coming Home. Unlike the legends who inspired Bridges by squeezing every last drop of feeling out of their voices—Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, or even gospel heavyweights like the late Rev. James Cleveland—the emotion on the album never fully heats up past "Yeah, I'm pretty keen about my record being sold in this Starbucks, thanks for asking!"
Speaking of Cooke, he said it best: "As a singer grows older, his conception grows a little deeper, because he lives life and he understands what he is trying to say a little more." Bridges is just starting out and there are enough signs on Coming Home that he's only going to get better. Songs like "Lisa Sawyer" (a deeply specific ballad dedicated to his mother), display why he's already getting looks from the likes of Jools Holland and why his recent Chicago gig at the legendary Green Mill had potential ticket-buyers in a frenzy once the event sold out. On the title track, Bridges sets out on his own path, using the spirits—the ones celebrated on Sunday morning at church, as well as the ones consumed on Saturday night in the juke joints—as his guide. While it's a little early in that journey, he has enough sheer talent that you want to stick around to see it all finally come together.
