The Familiar Feeling of a New Song

There is a particular pleasure in hearing a new song that feels as though it has been waiting for you somewhere. Perhaps it is the warmth of the bass, a voice that seems to arrive from the far side of the room, or a melody that sounds at home beside records you already love. You check the date and discover that it was made recently. You check it again, just in case.

The word “revival” can be useful, though it risks suggesting that soul, jazz and R&B ever disappeared and needed to be found behind a sofa. They have continued to evolve through generations of artists and listeners. What is exciting now is the number of different ways contemporary musicians are drawing on those traditions, and the different lives they give to a familiar feeling.

Old friends, new voices

Thee Sacred Souls have a gift for making tenderness feel unhurried. There is room around the voice, a rhythm that knows when to hold back and the sense that a love song can be sincere without arriving with a speech prepared. Try “Can I Call You Rose?” and allow it the few minutes it asks for. It is not in a rush; neither should you be.

Durand Jones & The Indications bring another kind of warmth, drawing on soul and R&B while allowing their songs to move between intimacy, social observation and a very good reason to get up from your chair. “Is It Any Wonder?” is a lovely place to begin; “Witchoo” takes the evening somewhere rather more lively. There is pleasure in hearing a group sound both affectionate towards its influences and interested in what comes next.

Pale Jay's music offers a different atmosphere: hushed vocals, soft edges and a sense that the lights have been turned down a little. It invites a closer listen rather than a competition to identify every source of inspiration. A song can feel like an old companion without needing to pretend that it was recorded in another decade.

No need to stay in one room

RAYE's work moves across genres with a confidence that makes neat filing rather difficult. Soul and jazz sit alongside pop, R&B and theatrical storytelling, sometimes with humour and hurt in the same room. “Ice Cream Man.” is not gentle listening, and that is part of its force. Elsewhere, a song may invite you to dance while making a much more complicated point than the dance floor initially suspected.

Chicago belongs to a different generation and a different musical lineage from these contemporary performers. The band is not evidence of a current soul revival, but its blend of rock, pop, jazz-informed arrangements and prominent horns can be a rewarding neighbouring stop. Put on “Saturday in the Park” or explore the earlier albums and listen to the way brass changes the scale and colour of a song. A listening session is allowed to travel across decades without presenting a formal argument for every change of direction.

That is the more interesting way to hear connections. Move from a contemporary soul record to a brass arrangement, then to a voice or rhythm that reminds you of something else. The point is not to prove that every artist belongs to the same category. It is to notice the little doors between them.

Familiar does not mean finished

There is a danger in treating anything that recalls an earlier sound as an elaborate costume. An artist can love the sound of an older record and still have something personal to say. The instruments, the arrangement and the way a song is recorded may carry echoes; the voice and the moment in which it was made belong to the present.

There is room for pleasure without a purity test. You do not need to decide whether a record is sufficiently authentic before allowing it to improve your evening. Listen closely if you enjoy doing so. Read about the musicians, seek out the artists who influenced them, and follow the trail wherever it leads. Or simply put the song on again.

A good listening session rarely ends exactly where it began. Thee Sacred Souls may lead to Durand Jones & The Indications; RAYE might send you somewhere else entirely; Chicago's horns may persuade you to stay up for one more track. What connects them is not a claim that they sound alike. It is the pleasure of discovering that music can feel familiar and surprising at once.

The life around the music

The pleasure of these records is not limited to tracing their influences. A song becomes part of a morning, a drive or the long interval after dinner when nobody is quite ready to leave. A contemporary artist can take the warmth of an older sound and fill it with present-day anxieties, humour and desire. That is a more generous idea of tradition: something musicians can carry forward and reshape.

Listen to the musicians around the singer as well. A bass line may provide the gentle movement you remember; a horn section can open the whole room. With Thee Sacred Souls or Durand Jones & The Indications, the feeling depends on the ensemble, not just the person at the microphone. With RAYE, an arrangement can turn from intimacy to theatre; Pale Jay may prefer to keep the listener closer. These are different choices, not steps on a ladder of authenticity.

It is tempting to ask which decade a new song most convincingly resembles. A better question might be what it makes you feel now. Put it beside an old favourite, then let it find its own place on the shelf.