Stealth Braxton, coming this summer to PS4 and Xbox One…
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[6.50]
Crystal Leww: Stylistically similar to her older sister but octaves higher, Tamar also managed to prove that people still listen to this old-fashioned stuff with “All the Way Home” lingering on the Billboard Hot 100 and R&B charts. Despite all the attention paid to buzz artists that sound thin-voiced and drugged-out, you would think that the minor 2013 success of Ariana Grande would show that there is still a market for the belters and whistlers and that maybe we should start paying attention to this. Tamar Braxton is as good as a place as any here, relying on nothing more than a hell of an emotive performance and some well-worn reflecting-while-driving imagery with the road a metaphor for love. Seriously, there is nothing else worth noting beside her voice, but wow, does that count for a lot.
[6]
Anthony Easton: Tamar has become the stealth Braxton, doing that half-spoken ennui-haunted heartbreak better than most R&B singers working today. This skitters almost aimlessly and sounds like the soundtracks to all those movies about driving and never quite reaching the destination. The wash of electronic strings just adds to the effect. Her voice, juxtaposing between overarching and under-tempered, adds to the just unrelenting sadness here.
[9]
Alfred Soto: If it weren’t for the electronic accents, “All The Way Home” would sound a lot like Mary J. Blige’s “Be Without You,” and it evinces a similar commitment to an erotic bliss she’s beginning to understand (but not control).
[7]
Jer Fairall: A solid chorus melody, complete with a propulsive drum loop that builds momentum each time the Braxton eases into it, but I hear more smooth professionalism in her vocal than empathetic grasp of either character or setting. Possibly unfair association: this has the unfortunate timing of appearing just as big sister Toni (with Babyface) has released a superb new album of adult R&B that plumbs the very emotional depths that this merely skims.
[5]
Brad Shoup: Throughout the song, the undulating organ’s been tying itself in knots and I’m just now noticing. Braxton keeps finding herself back in the car, always heading home, always leaving home. The kick sounds like her pounding on the steering wheel, or maybe it’s the bedpost against the wall, or the cops at the door. She treats the chorus very much like a hymn, which is fine; her faith is placed in returning.
[8]
Megan Harrington: In a Harlequin epic, you speed off in a blind rage, you ride, and you drive all the way home. It’s a testament to Braxton that the verbs in her song have such multiple meanings; a song that could be reduced to exploring the dynamics of fighting and makeup sex is instead an exercise in wordplay and vocal theatrics.
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: Atmospheric night-drive stuff with unexpected, deceptively antsy percussion and voice. It fits the story; this’d probably only sound right speeding.
[7]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: On the drive home from work, I’m usually inundated with thoughts of the following: Will I have time for dinner? What do I have to write? Should I really try and get my eight hours sleep for once? Should I finish reading that book already or just get better at this one video game? I think I’ve been single too long to have these thoughts. Then I hear Tamar Braxton hollering over bloodless lovey-dovey timpanis about making her way back to her lover. It’s somehow highly dramatic and incredibly boring at the same time. You know what? I better luxuriate in all this free time while I have it — Tamar sounds busy as hell.
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