Taylor McFerrin released his 2014 debut, Early Riser, on Flying Lotus’ Brainfeeder label. Channeling McFerrin’s jazz chops through a spacey, synth-heavy lens, Early Riser fit snugly into the forward-thinking Brainfeeder vault. But its reliance on guest singers—including McFerrin’s father, the gifted improv vocalist Bobby McFerrin—made the album feel more like a collage of influences than the arrival of a sharply defined new voice. Five years on, McFerrin’s second album redresses that issue: The Los Angeles-based producer and composer adds singing to his repertoire, and emotes nostalgic feelings over self-produced backdrops with the detectable influence of late-’80s UK soul. Love’s Last Chance intends to establish McFerrin’s talents as a lyricist, rather than simply a production foil for other vocalists.
The album’s vintage synthesizers bring a warm quality to the songs, complimenting McFerrin’s romantic lyrics. Lush string samples on instrumental opener “Her Entrance,” played by composer Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, roll into the wistful “All I See Is You,” where McFerrin’s steady but funky drum programming brings to mind the sultry snap of ’80s British R&B troupe Loose Ends. The song retells a familiar scene: Two people in separate relationships catch one another’s desirous eye. The glance prompts McFerrin to muse, “Either you’ll be love or trouble.”
McFerrin frames songs around such tiny moments, restraining his language to avoid overcomplicating his sentiments. Like a dusty box of photos or an abandoned social media account, Love’s Last Chance collects snapshots of past romances. On “Memory Digital,” a stuttering bass-powered track shot through with slivers of Fender Rhodes, McFerrin marks the end of a tryst in thoroughly modern fashion: “All that I have left of you are pictures on my phone.” The vintage sound of the production beds his words in fuzzy texture, at times conveying the same moodiness as Dev Hynes’ Blood Orange.
The sumptuous production peaks in the album’s first half, where gently pulsing bass lines and mid-tempo drum patterns create a seamless groove. But the sepia tint begins to fade in the home stretch. With flute by Elena Pinderhughes and a samba-inspired rhythm, the perky instrumental “As You Are” abruptly breaks the seductive atmosphere. It’s followed by “I Can’t Give Your Time Back,” a melodramatic ballad infused with sullen electric bass and guitar. But when McFerrin trills, “You should leave me, baby, before I leave you,” the threat sounds toothless and whiny. After that, the would-be redemption of closer “So Cold in the Summer” feels hard to believe.
The uneven second half of Love’s Last Chance fails to match the charms of the first. But by trimming the guest list and writing lyrics inspired by personal experience, McFerrin has found a clearer sense of purpose. Having the confidence to vocalize his own feelings suits him well. It isn’t quite a complete realization of his songwriting voice—McFerrin is more convincing when he’s introducing standalone scenarios than attempting to draw fulfilling conclusions—but on Love’s Last Chance, he sounds comfortable as the main attraction.
