TONYA MOSLEY, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. The Womack Sisters are a trio with illustrious family ties. Their uncle was R&B great Bobby Womack, and their grandfather was Sam Cooke. The sisters have just released a new album of tight harmonies. By contrast, Margaret Glaspy, who also has a new album, sings starkly about living a solitary life. Rock critic Ken Tucker discusses these contrasting sounds in his review. Let's start with the Womack Sisters.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MY SISTERS AND ME")
THE WOMACK SISTERS: (Singing) My sisters and me. Oh, my sisters and me. People come and go. But, baby, this I know, it will always be my sisters and me. My sisters and me.
KEN TUCKER, BYLINE: Much of the Womack Sisters' self-titled new album is filled with music that harks back to the days of classic soul and R&B. It's in their blood. Their parents are Linda and Cecil Womack, who made beautiful rhythm and blues under the name Womack & Womack. Their uncle, Bobby Womack, possessed the gravelly voice that powered hits like "Lookin' For A Love" and "Across 110th Street." And their grandfather was the gospel and soul great Sam Cooke. Now these three sisters - BG, Kucha and Zeimani - are looking to shape the kind of music they grew up hearing for a contemporary audience that doesn't know or care about their illustrious roots.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "CHAUFFEUR")
THE WOMACK SISTERS: (Singing) Baby, I got you at Melrose and Vine, you and your friend, smiling ear to ear Spilling bottles of wine. Driving all across town, drive, drive, to get you who knows where, who knows where. Take another sip, but don't forget to tip, you're just another fare. How many miles - how many miles do I have to burn? - do I got to burn? How many corners do I have to turn? How many corners - how many miles do I have to burn? - do I got to turn? How many corners do I have to turn? How many miles, how many miles, how many miles, do I got to burn just to keep my place? Chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur.
TUCKER: That's a song called "Chauffeur," whose title works as a job description and a metaphor. Apparently, the Womack Sisters took a number of jobs over the years to finance their recording, including doing some Uber driving. The lyric is about taking control of one's career, no longer being a passenger, getting behind the wheel. While this new release is being positioned as the sisters' debut, I've been aware of various songs and EPs they've released over the past decade.
And what strikes me about this album is that it's got their best songwriting. And for the first time, they transcend nostalgia. Yes, the music is rooted in 1960s soul. But their crisp, tight harmonies possess an urgency and immediacy that speaks to the world we're living in right now.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "YOU WENT AWAY TOO LONG")
THE WOMACK SISTERS: (Singing) Fall into your arms is what my heart says, ooh. I ain't much for dreaming, no. Don't do that, boy, no harm is what my mama says 'cause I ain't one for scheming, no. Look into my eyes, boy, don't you realize? You went away too long to wait for you, honey, and almost enough to forget you. You went away too long to wait for you, honey, and almost enough to forget you.
TUCKER: In contrast to the Womack Sisters' impeccable harmonies, I give you Margaret Glaspy's voice, ringingly alone as her peace is interrupted by a former lover who suddenly appears at the end of her driveway.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MICHIGAN")
MARGARET GLASPY: (Singing) I'm in Michigan, and it's colder than I like. I wouldn't last two minutes on the interstate riding my motorbike. And I'm a city girl, but it's a different world out here in the middle. I'm on solid ground with the friends I found. Nobody makes me feel little. You said you didn't want me. Then why did you come all this way? You said you didn't need me. Well, who's standing in whose driveway?
TUCKER: That song, called "Michigan," leads off Margaret Glaspy's new album called "I Am Both." On it, Glaspy acts as a chronicler of doubt, hesitation, misgiving, of the emotions that can grind a relationship to a halt. She keeps circling back to the word nothing. Doing nothing is something I do too well, she sings on one song. In another, she describes a couple stuck in a rut. James and Marie, they don't want to say the wrong thing, so they say nothing.
The music is mostly Glaspy and her acoustic guitar, with an occasional puff on a harmonica. Discrete keyboards and drums slip in here and there. Working with producer Joe Henry, Glaspy sounds as though she's walking through the rooms of an empty house, taking in memories good and bad, assigning blame and taking responsibility.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "PETTY")
GLASPY: (Singing) Can't you read my mind? I thought telepathy was a requirement for love. So I roll my eyes thinking that you're well acquainted with body language. I didn't know I had to speak up. That's why I'm folding your laundry, and I'm making a meal of it. I'm slamming doors you leave open, and I'm hoping you're feeling it. I thought we were on the same page. Apparently not. I'm in a silent rage. I'm sorry for being so petty.
TUCKER: That line, I'm slamming doors you leave open, and I'm hoping you're feeling it, oh, boy. That really kills me.
Both Glaspy and The Womack Sisters are women who've been put to the test by men who resist understanding their pain and their power. They know that relationships are a lot more complicated than victim and victimizer and use their work to untangle these snarled dynamics to better understand and explain themselves to us.
MOSLEY: Ken Tucker reviewed new music from The Womack Sisters and Margaret Glaspy.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "COMMON GROUND")
GLASPY: (Singing) One minute, I am a dream to you, and you can't cope with how much I mean to you. And the next, you are through with me, and you want nothing to do with me. You'd rather put me on a pedestal and then knock me down than meet me on common ground.
MOSLEY: Tomorrow on FRESH AIR, we get a slightly early start celebrating the centennial of John Coltrane's birth. We'll talk with his son, Ravi Coltrane, who is also a tenor saxophonist. Ravi was 2 when his father died. He'll describe how John Coltrane's music and his absence shaped his life. I hope you can join us.
To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram - @nprfreshair. FRESH AIR's executive producer is Sam Briger. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham. Our engineer today is Adam Staniszewski. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Nyakundi, Anna Bauman and Nico Gonzalez-Wisler. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper. Roberta Shorrock directs the show. With Terry Gross, I'm Tonya Mosley.
(SOUNDBITE OF JOHN COLTRANE'S "BLUES TO YOU") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.
