T-SWV-J
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[5.00]
Jonathan Bogart: Aging R&B futurists of the 90s resigning themselves to the soft and pliant R&B of the 70s would seem to be a running theme of late.
[5]
Micha Cavaseno: Look, man, I’m very heartbroken that I get to look at SWV promo photos and Koko isn’t wearing the 10 foot talons anymore, but I imagine those things hurt your wrist. And speaking of aged badly… these ladies have made classics — “Weak,” “Rain,” you name it, I adore it. But “Ain’t No Man” doesn’t sound like those same ladies in any way; the song itself feels crusty, as it lobs out the desire to “serve a real man,” and lacks the soft romance of their classic material. Plus vocally there just isn’t that sense of melody here to sell this. Ultimately, the SWV that’s returning to us seems a bit too vastly changed for us to embrace them as we once did, sad as it may seem.
[2]
Alfred Soto: Look, if you’re going to cover “We Belong Together,” then cover “We Belong Together.” Not this slush, please.
[3]
Thomas Inskeep: “Ain’t No Man” doesn’t sound like SWV in the ’90s, because instead of the around-the-way ladies they were back then, they’re grown-ass women now, and thanks to the Adult R&B radio format, they can sound like it. Nothing about this is “hot” or of-the-moment: it’s lush, classy balladry celebrating the real men in their life (and yours, if you’re so inclined). And for that we should all be grateful, because SWV are still queens.
[7]
David Sheffieck: The title elides the lyric’s clever work, and the subtleties SWV are expressing here. It evokes The Four Tops, but rather than focusing on a single, idealized partner, the hook’s ultimately about women coming together: “Now ladies if you got a king say it with me now/Ain’t no man like the one I got” gives room for all (straight, coupled) women to celebrate their relationships. It’s a flip on a concept older than modern pop, and SWV’s harmonies make it sound heavenly.
[8]
Brad Shoup: The Five Satins weren’t doo-wop’s brightest lights, but they had one of the biggest singles. By 1962, the genre’s signature arrangement of vocals was subsumed into white pop. So when it came to release what became of their final singles, the Satins took an oldie and made it gauche. Their take on “The Masquerade Is Over” is cruel, gaudy, high-flown: it bombed, but what an explosion it made. Not that SWV needed to go that route, but paraphrasing the Tops and calling to your audience is beyond safe. The tension between the live drums and the trappish stuff is nuts; the track fades out before you really get a sense of it.
[5]
Megan Harrington: While their voices are as beautiful as ever, this isn’t the vehicle. This is a Kia Sorento — so shiny, so big in the lot, the salesman calls it a classic, and, oh, that smell! You will regret the Kia Sorento. The Kia Sorento is a mistake.
[5]