D’Angelo, José James, Aaron Neville, Michael Hutchence, Curtis Mayfield, Steve Forbert, Neil Diamond, Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Lowell George, Dean Martin, Robert Wyatt, Neil Finn
They are the Male Balladeers selected among the 350 Posts we publish this week.
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
Tracklist
![]() 1 . D’Angelo . Devil’s PieReleased on October 31, 1998, “Devil’s Pie” by D’Angelo arrives as a poignant critique wrapped in a groove-heavy minimalism. With production helmed by DJ Premier, known for his hip-hop precision, the track spins out of a history of rejection—originally meant for Canibus, who declined it. One artist’s loss is another’s gain, and this collaboration solidifies its presence with stripped-back funk and a haunting undercurrent of vintage sampling. The song weaves together chunks of Teddy Pendergrass’s “And If I Had,” Fat Joe’s “Success,” Pierre Henry’s “Jericho Jerk,” and Raekwon’s “Interlude.” Yet, what gives this track its weight isn’t just its patchwork of borrowed sounds, but D’Angelo’s sharp lyrical scalpel, cutting into the material excesses and vanity that often define hip-hop culture. The recurring “gimme” chant underscores the hunger for more—whether money, power, or fame—dripping with moral unease. When “Devil’s Pie” pops up in **Belly’s** soundtrack, it deepens the cinematic grime associated with the NBK-heavy film. Despite charting modestly at No. 69 on Billboard’s Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Airplay, the song’s resonance lies less in commercial numbers and more in its audacious refusal to cater to glossy palatability. Sparse rhythms and P-Funk-inspired harmonies set it apart, marking D’Angelo’s shift from polished urban contemporary to the rumbling experimentation that would dominate *Voodoo*. The irony? A song so deeply antithetical to flashy displays finds itself casually featured in countless YouTube nostalgia trips, appealing to exactly the consumerist impulses it stands against. Yet, this tension between artistry and reception only adds layers to its legacy, proving “Devil’s Pie” an endlessly bitter yet addictive slice in D’Angelo’s catalogue. ![]() D’Angelo releases his second album . ‘Voodoo’ featuring ‘Untitled (How Does It Feel)’ (2000) |
![]() 2 . José James . TroubleJosé James’ “Trouble,” from his 2013 album *No Beginning No End*, saunters in with the kind of bass line that feels like it should come with its own swagger tutorial. The track, co-written with Scott Jacoby, initially nods to Bill Withers but soon pivots to a funkier, cocky strut echoing Sly Stone’s restless energy. The depth here lies in James’ ability to inhabit that menacing-yet-vulnerable emotional territory, echoing the traditions of R&B icons like Sam Cooke and Marvin Gaye. The arrangement leans on his ensemble of stalwarts, including Richard Spaven’s fluid drumming and Jeremy Most’s understated guitar work, all of which bolster the track’s restless undercurrent. The horns, courtesy of Corey King and Takuya Kuroda, punctuate the song without overplaying their hand, adding just enough tension to reflect the prowling edginess of the lyrics. “Trouble” isn’t complacent; it challenges its listeners to wrestle with its mood and meaning, testing the comfort zones of both jazz and R&B purists. Performing the song live at KCRW’s Apogee Sessions, James only heightens its controlled chaos, giving it a tactile immediacy that the studio version hints at but never quite unleashes. Though *No Beginning No End* hit the top of Billboard’s jazz chart, this particular track is less about accolades and more about pushing boundaries without abandoning tradition—a fine line James treads with ingenuity. Whether it’s the rawness of the bass or the tension in James’ voice, the track resonates with an emotional heft often missing from genre hybrids, proving here that innovation need not overshadow authenticity. ![]() |
![]() 3 . Aaron Neville . Bird On A Wire (w/ The Neville Brothers)Bird on the Wire, as performed by Aaron Neville and the Neville Brothers, sidesteps Leonard Cohen’s raw introspection in favor of a tender, R&B-tinged homage. This 1990 cover nestles comfortably within the mix of the Neville Brothers’ “Brother’s Keeper” album, which blends genres with the ease of a group well-versed in musical elasticity. The track pivots Cohen’s melancholic musings, originally crafted during a stay on the Greek island of Hydra, into something warmer, though perhaps less meditative. Leonard penned the song in 1968, inspired by the sight of birds perched on freshly strung telephone wires, an image that seems crushingly symbolic in ways only Cohen could muster. The Neville Brothers’ rendition, though admirable, trims some of Cohen’s poetic grit, trading emotional fissures for smooth harmonies and polished production. Its placement in the Mel Gibson and Goldie Hawn action-comedy “Bird on a Wire” might feel like an odd cultural crossroads but speaks volumes about the song’s creeping ubiquity. Charting modestly—number 72 in the UK and a much higher number 5 in New Zealand—it’s a testament to the track’s enduring international resonance, despite this version leaning heavy on accessibility. Before Aaron and company tackled it, Judy Collins had already immortalized the song on her 1968 album, “Who Knows Where the Time Goes,” opening the floodgates for future covers by the likes of Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes. This version underscores the Neville Brothers’ adaptability but doesn’t quite pack the gravity of Cohen’s dour Hollywood motel origins or its lean existentialism. Still, Aaron Neville’s unmistakable voice softens any critique, wrapping Cohen’s lines in velvet even as some of their tension unravels. ![]() |
![]() 4 . Michael Hutchence . Beautiful Girl (w/ INXS)“Beautiful Girl” by INXS serves as one of the more introspective offerings from their eighth album, “Welcome to Wherever You Are,” released in 1992. Written by Andrew Farriss with his newborn daughter Grace as the muse, the track captures a tender yet unmistakably universal theme pivoted around admiration and fragility. Michael Hutchence’s breathy yet weighted vocal delivery lends an emotional anchor to the piano-driven arrangement, which never fully veers into saccharine territory. The song finds its understated strength in the simplicity of its chord structure, mirroring the personal nature of its inspiration without overly ornate production. Mark Opitz’s hand in the helm, paired with the band’s restraint, makes the track an anomaly within the broader INXS soundscape, carving out a space that transcends cliché balladry. Interestingly, its cultural footprint extends beyond music, with the song being tied to an awareness campaign for anorexia in the U.S., reminding us of its quiet but effective resonance. Its accompanying Grammy-nominated video elevates the lyrics, symbolically approaching themes of identity and body image without pressing an agenda too directly. Although the track didn’t climb to extravagant chart heights, its enduring appeal lies in its niche yet relatable narrative, bolstered further by Grace Farriss now stepping into her own musical career. The B-sides accompanying specific releases, including tracks like “Strange Desire,” are yet another deep cut for completists, keeping the single from feeling like a standalone affair. While not as bombastic as some of INXS’s stadium anthems, “Beautiful Girl” persists as a quiet keystone in their catalog—existing almost as an anti-hit in their noteworthy repertoire. ![]() |
![]() 5 . Curtis Mayfield . People Get Ready (w/ David Sanborn & Taylor Dayne)Released in 1965 as part of the album sharing its name, “People Get Ready” stands as one of Curtis Mayfield’s most evocative contributions to the canon of American music. The track merges gospel undertones with vivid train imagery, a nod both to spiritual freedom and the historical weight of the Underground Railroad. The song is unmistakably tethered to its era, resonating as an anthem closely associated with the Civil Rights Movement, championed by figures like Martin Luther King Jr. for its power to inspire collective action. Its construction is deceptively simple yet undeniably affecting, with restrained instrumentation allowing Mayfield’s earnest delivery to lead the charge. Charting well on both the R&B and Pop charts, the song’s success transcends its commercial performance, embedding itself within a greater cultural dialogue. While numerous covers have expanded its reach, from Rod Stewart’s smooth rendition to Aretha Franklin’s soulful embrace, none dilute its original potency. What makes “People Get Ready” so enduring is its balance of directness and metaphor, a hallmark of Mayfield’s burgeoning awareness of the world’s inequities. Without excessive fanfare or dramatic gestures, the track captures the clarity of a purpose—a readiness for change that still reverberates decades later. Although collaborations with artists like David Sanborn or Taylor Dayne remain speculative in this context, the song’s influence is unparalleled, setting a benchmark for what socially conscious music can achieve. As part of a discography filled with bold statements of identity and justice, the song’s understated gravitas still makes listeners pause and reflect, a feat not diminished by time or reinterpretation. ![]() Curtis Mayfield records his first album ‘Curtis/Live!’ at The Bitter End in New York (1971) |
![]() 6 . Steve Forbert . Romeo’s TuneSteve Forbert’s “Romeo’s Tune” lands at a curious crossroads of late ’70s pop where tender sentimentality meets a melodic hook strong enough to lodge itself into collective memory for decades. Released in December 1979, this piano-laden track doesn’t aim to dazzle with grandiosity but instead thrives on its charming simplicity, anchored by Bobby Ogdin’s piano work—yes, the same Ogdin who once tickled keys for Elvis. Forbert’s lyrics tap into an earnestness that feels plucked straight out of small-town America, a natural reflection for a guy from Meridian, Mississippi. While officially dedicated to Florence Ballard, the tune’s real muse was someone a bit closer to home. Somehow, this emotional duality—grief sublimated into nostalgia—makes such a specific story remarkably universal. The song’s chart trajectory in early 1980, cracking the top 15 in both the U.S. and Canada, wasn’t some unforeseen miracle but a testament to its unassuming relatability. And, of course, nothing says “ubiquitous charm” quite like a neck-mounted harmonica taking over the live version of an already piano-heavy hit. Its appearance in “Knockaround Guys” and “Everybody Wants Some!!” decades later cements its staying power, though some might argue these cameos serve more to flavor the films with wistful nostalgia than to revive Forbert’s pop-folk credibility. Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers’ 2017 cover adds a bit of indie murmuring to the conversation but doesn’t push the song into truly new terrain. It’s more homage than reinvention. Forbert’s broader career, producing a steady catalog including Grammy-nominated “Any Old Time,” positions him as the quintessential journeyman musician—one who eschews flashiness for steady craft. Yet, there’s something slyly ironic about a guy with roots this unpretentious showing up in a Cyndi Lauper music video, even if only briefly. Maybe that’s Forbert’s secret sauce: blending sincerity and surprise in quiet doses, never quite conforming to what anyone expects. ![]() |
![]() 7 . Neil Diamond . Something Blue“Something Blue,” a standout track from Neil Diamond’s 2014 *Melody Road* album, finds the artist strumming through familiar terrain with a touch of introspection and optimism. The song’s blend of pop and folk feels both comfortable and deliberate, serving as a showcase for Diamond’s strengths without veering too far into uncharted territory. Lyrically, it plays with themes of renewal, pivoting from melancholy to hope with lines such as “Goodbye to my little bit of something blue.” The clever yet straightforward wordplay avoids grandiose posturing, but it still lands a satisfying emotional punch. Wayne Isham’s 2014 video accompaniment visually amplifies this evolution, painting a picture of joy and reinvention through its curated vignettes that toe the line between poignant and predictable. Inclusion of the track on the *All-Time Greatest Hits* compilation the same year only begs the question: does this newer offering stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Diamond’s seminal works? The arrangement leans strongly into convention, with its melodic simplicity carrying a polish that feels both nostalgic and slightly indistinct. Though its ambition feels restrained, “Something Blue” strikes a chord for fans who prefer their sentimentality in digestible doses, making it an endearing—though not revolutionary—addition to Diamond’s extensive catalog. ![]() |
![]() 8 . Caetano Veloso , Gilberto Gil . Nossa Gente [Avisa Lá]Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil’s “Nossa Gente [Avisa Lá]” is a sonic nod to their dense cultural legacy, captured live on *Dois Amigos, Um Século de Música* during their 2016 tour. The album mirrors fifty years of collaboration between the two giants of Tropicália, a genre that once defied military dictatorship and turned Brazilian music inside out with its sonic experimentation. Performance-wise, the song threads traditional Brazilian rhythms like samba and forró with sprinkles of rock and blues, a fusion that feels both respectful to its roots and not remotely interested in sitting still. In one standout moment of the tour, an Oakland crowd—heavy with Brazilian expats—roared in recognition within seconds of its opening notes, a testament to its enduring resonance. This track exemplifies their knack for fitting pointed lyricism into melodies accessible enough to hum, while always sounding uniquely theirs, marked by flawless harmonies that feel spontaneous yet meticulous. ![]() |
![]() 9 . Lowell George . Dixie Chicken (w/ Little Feat , Emmylou Harris . Bonnie Raitt“Dixie Chicken” exemplifies Little Feat’s knack for blending rock with Southern charm, delivering a narrative that feels both relatable and slyly caustic. A standout from the 1973 album of the same name, the track leans on Lowell George’s distinct slide guitar work and a jazzy, almost loungy rhythm that lures listeners in before dropping them into its tale of romantic futility. The story centers on a man duped by a Southern belle in the transient setting of the Commodore Hotel, painted as both intimate and indifferent, a clever nod to fleeting connections and enduring heartbreaks. The song’s accordion-like swagger suggests levity, though the repeated revelations of betrayal showcase a darker undertone that resonates beneath its jaunty exterior. Collaborative magic appears in spades here, with Bonnie Raitt and Emmylou Harris providing backing vocals that juxtapose sweetness against the song’s bittersweet core. Its live rendition on *Waiting for Columbus* adds another dimension, amplifying the track’s playful jazz inflections into proto-jam band chaos. The 1977 performance on *The Midnight Special* cemented its identity as both a rock anthem and a genre outlier, leaning heavily into improvisational flair with Jesse Winchester and Harris in tow. Phish’s Halloween 2010 cover might seem like a bizarre homage, yet it proves “Dixie Chicken” has the kind of staying power that bridges decades and ideologies. Its ability to shift between playful storytelling and subtle reflections on the impermanence of love creates a nuanced piece that defies strict classification while remaining undeniably entertaining. ![]() Warner Bros. publish Little Feat’s third album . ‘Dixie Chicken’ (1972) |
![]() 10 . Dean Martin . It’s Easy To RememberDean Martin’s take on “It’s Easy to Remember (And So Hard to Forget)” drifts through the air like a dose of nostalgia served with a side of mid-century elegance. Originally penned by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart in 1935 and crooned first by Bing Crosby in the film *Mississippi*, Martin’s 1957 rendition on *Pretty Baby* injects Hollywood glamour into a tune already dripping with wistful grandeur. Recorded with Gus Levene’s lush orchestral backdrop in Capitol Records’ hallowed Hollywood studio, the track leans into Martin’s signature croon, balanced delicately between casual charm and aching sincerity. This isn’t the first—or last—time the song finds itself dusted off for a new audience, with versions recorded by jazz luminaries and pop icons alike, from Fred Astaire to Frank Sinatra. And yet, Martin’s version stands apart, not for reinvention, but for its refusal to try too hard; the man leans on charisma the way others might rely on vocal acrobatics, proving that less is sometimes enough. The song sits snugly within *Pretty Baby*, an album of velvet-lined standards, including tracks like “Once in a While” and “Nevertheless (I’m in Love with You).” Though its sentimental groove wouldn’t dare upend the genre, it perfectly mirrors the zeitgeist of cocktail lounges and post-war optimism. While some might argue it teeters on the safer side of Martin’s catalog, the restrained delivery does justice to a tune that thrives on fragile simplicity. The result isn’t explosive, groundbreaking, or boundary-pushing—but it doesn’t need to be. Martin delivers a smooth dose of melancholy, pairing effortless vocals with arrangements that whisper rather than shout, reminding listeners that sometimes, it’s all about knowing when to hold back. ![]() |
![]() 11 . Robert Wyatt . Sea Song“Sea Song” from Robert Wyatt’s pivotal *Rock Bottom* album emerges as a fragmented yet tender meditation wrapped in a dreamlike, aqueous soundscape. The track sits at the crossroads of personal reinvention and artistic audacity, born from Wyatt’s convalescence after a tragic accident left him paralyzed. Far from a maudlin lament, it bends the listener’s ear to a hypnotic interplay of minimalist keyboards and Wyatt’s trembling, almost fragile vocal delivery. The lyrics court ambiguity, oscillating between surreal imagery of a mythical sea creature and jarring yet oddly endearing observations like “when you’re drunk, you’re terrific when you’re drunk.” Nick Mason of Pink Floyd steers the album’s production, imbuing it with a stark yet enveloping atmosphere suited to Wyatt’s stripped-down artistry. This is not a song that panders to clarity or easy satisfaction; instead, it thrives on a tension between melodic beauty and lyrical murkiness, leaving interpretations as open as a tide rolling in. Its legacy is echoed in the multiple covers it has spawned over decades, extending its influence across genres and generations. Rarely does a piece so thoroughly blur the line between the deeply personal and the utterly enigmatic, all while retaining its quiet, haunting charm. ![]() |
![]() 12 . Neil Finn . Fall at Your Feet (w/ Liam Finn)“Fall at Your Feet,” penned by Neil Finn, emerges as a study in understated intimacy, slipping into the sonic realm of confessional songwriting only Neil could command. Originally released in 1991 as part of Crowded House’s “Woodface,” it’s one of those rare moments where simplicity wins over grandeur—a single voice, a tender melody. While most of “Woodface” flaunts Finn-family co-authorship, this track stands as Neil’s solitary lyrical carte blanche, a fact often overshadowed by its radio-friendly peers like “Weather with You.” The song’s structure bleeds sincerity, its subtle shifts in dynamics mirroring emotional ebbs and flows—whether heartbreak or an unreciprocated longing is unclear, but does it matter? Charting comfortably across continents (17th in the UK, 75th in the US), it neatly side-stepped superhit territory, positioning itself as more of a cult-favorite, less overplayed anthem for melancholic souls. The music video, steered by director Andrew Dominik, gestures toward restrained visual storytelling rather than broadcasting any overt narrative—an intelligent move, given the track’s introspection. In 2019, the song enjoyed a familial resurrection, performed by Neil alongside his son Liam in London, but the real stroke of timing came in 2020, when Crowded House revisited “Fall at Your Feet” remotely during the pandemic, dusting off its ’90s acoustic aura for a cause-focused rendition benefiting social justice initiatives. Lyrically, the track avoids florid verbosity, sticking to raw vulnerability underlined by Finn’s tender delivery, a contrast to the more polished sing-along anthems that sometimes eclipse it within the same album. Yet trace the song’s arc throughout Crowded House’s oeuvre—from inclusion in greatest hits compilations like “Recurring Dream” to its lingering presence in live sets—and it’s evident that simplicity doesn’t reduce its endurance—it amplifies it. ![]() |