10

In their short history, UK collective Sault have made soul, funk, afro, R’n’B, hip hop, post-punk, no-wave, garage rock, celestial-transcendental-psychedelic gospel and more. For 10 (contrarily, their 13th album), they’ve mainly stuck to the live-sounding, uplifting classic-soul/funk and contemporary afro beats/R’n’B hybrid end of their repertoire. When downtempo, the songs here — so far as such rich musical conglomerations can be pinned down —  recall the devotional warmth of early 70s Aretha and the intimacy of peak Terry Callier, while the uptempo jams mix rattling, funky, highly percussive rhythm tracks with musical hints of high-period Stevie, early 80s boogie, and disco-era Quincy Jones, but always with that earthy, thick, raw, live Sault production feel. 

Sault’s songs are often a clever balancing act between soul, R’n’B, and funk tropes that, in the hands of lesser artists, could sound tired, and the bold production decisions and free-spirited musical experimentation that continually elevate their music. So the sweet-soaring-soul of Cleo Sol’s melody on the middle eight of “L.U.” is balanced by gnarly, distorted guitar licks, opener “T.H.” falls somewhere between 80s synth-funk, rare groove, and afro beats, while “P” could be what happened if ESG met some of the JBs and they all got religion. Another high-quality, intriguing, idiosyncratic Sault chapter, and definitely one of their more accessible outings.