OMAR, Best by Far (OYSTER)
SADE, Lovers Rock (EPIC)

Words: Chris Wells

Why together? Simple: they’re both the kind of artist that you’re either into in a big way or who leave you cold as a fish. In Sade’s case, she can be the one-time style princess whose musical formula passed along with Margaret Thatcher’s own teeth some time in the late eighties; or she’s the ultimate in understated cool soul, the leader of a band so underrated it’s criminal.

Since I fall into the latter group of believers, to me Lovers Rock feels more overdue than a Connex South Central train. You’d need a long memory to know it, but Sade’s albums have generally got better as the yers have rolled by and although Lovers Rock finally breaks that sequence by showing no real improvement on either Stronger Than Pride or Love Deluxe, it’s hardly inferior.

Perhaps the single, By Your Side, was an unfortunately choice: it’s basically a steal from the structure of Whiter Shade Of Pale. But skip to King Of Sorrow or Somebody Already Broke My Heart or Every Word and get yourself an insight into the pain of a woman whose recent relationship upheavals have obviously left a scar. [Just like your own did, which is, of course, why they resolute]. The lullaby she wrote for her daughter, entitled The Sweetest Gift, tells you where she found [most of] her solace during that time. In contract, Slave Song and Immigrant indicate that Ms Adu isn’t so hung up on herself that she doesn’t see the world go by and fret about it. By the time you come around to the title song, a lovely cushioned uplift towards the album’s close, it begins to dawn that, although she may take almost a decade between albums these days, Sade’s greatest artistic release is till in her music. Messrs Matthewman, Hale and Denman knew that already, of course. Which is why they’re still around.

Omar? Well, he’s even more underappreciated in his own country than Sade. It must have been disheartening to have made one of his best albums for RCA and then end up in the out-tray, but his reaction shows that the guy is still full of fight. And talent and fun.

Ardent fans will be thrilled to learn that their hero’s answer to his spot on the sidelines is…an album just as good and easily as Omar-like as we’ve come to know. Yes, the Erykah duet is fine and will do well as a single [especially if they get it out in America], but don’t let the involvement of such a big name obscure the fact that Omar himself is the most distinctive black musical voice this country has produced. OK, he’s influenced by Stevie, but [unlike a mission others] he’s taken that influence and run with it, all the while blending in the reggae, pop, hip hop and funk styles he has tripped over along the way living in London. This time his interest in soundtracks come to the surface on In The Morning, where he lifts a portion from Midnight Cowboy and Essenual, which borrows Lalo Schifrin’s Bullit backdrop. The title track, too, sounds like advance notice of where he would go if only asked by some movie mogul to do the Superfly/Trouble Man thing. [Here’s praying!] More directly funky is I Guess which is so Earth, Wind & Fire-meets-Ohios it ought to teach Jay Kay a thing or two about making ass-shaking music. Syleste, in contrast, is so cute and slippery and jazzy you can see the smile all over Omar’s face as he wrote and sang the lyric [“I didn’t mean to drink all night” Indeed!]

Which is best? Well, it’s unfair to compare the two against each other. But since I’m forcing myself I’d opt for Omar, mainly because he sounds the hungrier. Whatever happens to Lovers Rock here, it will undoubtedly sell in millions around the world, and deservedly so. Best By Far’s future is not so sure and it would be a crying shame if our main man once again goes unheralded after producing such great work. The truth is, Omar is one of our national musical treasures; the least we can do is buy his bloody albums.