Jamila Woods' third album references
Toni Morrison with its title and penultimate song, samples a discussion between
Nikki Giovanni and
James Baldwin -- two more figures to whom
Woods has previously paid tribute -- and counts many of her Chicago associates as contributors. In almost all other respects,
Water Made Us is quite different from
HEAVN and
LEGACY! LEGACY!, her first two full-lengths. Having pushed herself to write prolifically over an extended period,
Woods established a creative bond with
Chris McClenney, a writer and producer behind
Khalid's "Location" whose other connections include
Mereba,
CHIKA, and
Joey Bada$$. The two collaborated remotely before
Woods was able to join
McClenney at his Los Angeles studio, where they saw to fruition a loosely chronological illustration of
Woods' journey along the arc and aftermath of a romance -- with allusions to other past relationships in the mix. Not merely distinct from what
Woods has made before,
Water Made Us is unique in the way it examines and reflects on love with its philosophical and patient yet unconcealed perspective. She relates her experiences with poetic enumeration of details and fresh flips of common metaphors likening relationships and their various states to plant life, weather, and of course water. Her voice glows and just about flutters during moments of joy and optimism like "Tiny Garden," "Practice," and "Boomerang." When the conditions are choppy on a handful of other songs,
Woods takes it in stride, neither despondent nor embittered; even "You did a number on me" and "I'm not your leather Everlast" are put forth with an even temper. The deep involvement of
McClenney, assistance from additional producers such as
Wynne Bennett and
Alissia Benveniste, and the familiar presence of
Peter CottonTale all nudge and stretch
Woods' sound into new realms of left-field pop, folk, and funk without squeezing out a drop of soul. Another new recording partner is
Biako (aka
Itai Shapira), the one behind the song that features the album's title in its lyrics.
Woods sounds just as comfortable in
Biako's hallucinogenic, slow-motion funk, her measured vocal full of regret and resolve. It flows both sonically and lyrically into a spare
McClenney-produced ballad, replete with a percussive splash, that finishes the album appropriately with kindhearted reassurances. ~ Andy Kellman
