You know the story by now: Kendrick Lamar paired up with a few jazz musicians and created some game-changing rap music. The results were To Pimp a Butterfly and untitled and unmastered., both expansive and intricate, scanning the vast spectrum of Black art. Multi-instrumentalist Terrace Martin was a binding agent for both albums: He co-produced what might be untitled’s best track—“untitled 05”—playing saxophone and keys, and his name appeared several times in Butterfly’s liner notes, credited for producing “For Free? (Interlude)” and adding elements to many other album tracks. (He produced “Real” on Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d. city as well.) Along with Sounwave, bassist Thundercat, keyboardist Robert Glasper and saxophonist Kamasi Washington, Martin played a big role in shaping Butterfly’s atmospheric approach, the way it spread out in different directions without losing focus. Though it addressed societal despair and Lamar’s own angst, Butterfly was also a love letter to Compton and the West Coast in general, its wide-open funk and soul a direct reflection of Cali’s pastoral grooves.
Martin takes a similar path on Velvet Portraits, which pulls in R&B and G-funk while paying homage to his native Los Angeles. The multifaceted ethos has become useful for the composer, whose music never stays in the same place for too long, while maintaining its breezy spirit. Martin has crafted instrumentals for Snoop, Kurupt and Murs over the years, and his debut studio album, 2013’s 3ChordFold, mixed live instruments and studio beats with refreshing results. In an interview with The Fader, Martin said Velvet Portraits was headed a different way until a mix of family emergencies encouraged him to take another tack. “We went through all these things and it made me want to pull closer with myself, and it really made me want to pull closer with God,” he said at the time. That’s why Velvet feels remarkably scenic, moving methodically and conjuring pastoral scenes. Technically, this is jazz, but the tag is almost a disservice here: Sure it has some of the genre’s traditional aspects—the improvised nature of “Curly Martin” and the Sérgio Mendes aesthetic of “Bromali” are examples—but the album registers as something deeper without a clear definition. This is jazz the way Glasper is jazz, the way Bitches Brew is a jazz record: Martin mixes pieces of the genre with others, setting a vibe that’s uniquely his.
Velvet Portraits is full of subtle shifts that make the album tough to pin down, even if the individual tracks are easily deciphered at first glance. Songs like “Push” and “Patiently Waiting” have pronounced gospel influences—the former an upbeat revival tune; the latter reminiscent of the church-soul hybrids Ray Charles used to make. Velvet Portraits is decidedly nostalgic in that regard, and as it plays, you sense Martin’s allegiance to old-school music and the way it made him feel. It’s in the trunk-rattling bounce of “Turkey Taco” and the Quiet Storm ambience of “Never Enough.” On “Think of You,” especially, singer Rose Gold salutes soul icons Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye while Kamasi’s sax simmers in the background.
In many ways, Velvet Portraits is Butterfly’s companion piece, harboring the same voluminous reach while conveying uplifting messages of love and inclusiveness, resting in the heart of southern California. Where Martin’s previous work was more energetic, Velvet seems far more relaxed, as if he’s found a creative lane and is fully comfortable in it. The album doesn’t hit as hard as the producer’s other offerings, but on purpose, Velvet Portraits is a soft touch that slowly unfolds over time, best heard under bright skies, on spring and summer evenings with the car windows down. It all culminates on "Mortal Man," the album's epic closer, which takes from Butterfly's closer of the same name. Sprawling almost 12 minutes, Martin's version is theatrical, full of synthesized vocals and sporadic horns. Light keys bubble to the surface, bringing the LP to a radiant conclusion. It doesn’t get more L.A. than that.
