Here is the song (and live).

The standard has been eternally set for fusion music. It doesn’t really get any better than this, honestly. The irresistible consistency of this blend of soul, R’n’B and syncopatious latin ‘cha-cha-cha’ is nonchalantly named ‘Spanish Joint’.

For such an instinctively musical song, the lyrics alone are worth some serious contemplation. Yet they are so overwhelmed by the instrumentation that its easy to miss what D’Angelo is actually saying. D’Angelo’s music is all underside, all understatement, suave subtlety. This makes his vocals the perfect conduit for communicating man’s deep longings, complex or ‘otherwise’.

It has been said that the hallmarks of quality of writing (and apparently, also of good salespeople) is to ‘always be closing’. This state of closing creates a longing within the reader for more of what they have just witnessed. This song is an example of the same principle applied to music; There are several distinct moments when it feels like the fun is about to end, then as if by magic, the musicians elevate the atmosphere to a new level of euphoria (sometimes assisted by a key change).

Technically, the arrangement is brilliant, bordering on perfect, as all the instruments add substantial impact to the song’s texture.

• You can clearly tell the groovy bass is the type of instrument that wears sunglasses indoors
• The jazzy trumpets scatters excellence throughout the entire song
• The afro-latino percussion is making its pervasive influence felt
• The soulful vocal utterances convince the listener that they too can sing

“Somethin’ stirrin’ inside of me’s gotta be
Soul controller in control of me”

I feel the same every time I hear this song. Its almost like the freedom in musicians awakens movements and rhythms inside you that you didn’t think were possible. This of course only lasts whilst you are wrapped in its fabric of sound, and then once it’s all over, you’re left feeling much more cooler than you did six minutes ago.

Here is the song.

Have you ever dreamt of a song where the melody was so inspired, so genius, that you know it couldn’t have come from you, it was a serendipitous gift, like a massive rose growing in you garden that you didn’t plant. It’s happened to me once or twice. Sometimes I have been sharp enough to grab my phone in a half-awake haze and record what I thought at the time was a stellar attempt to recreate the harmony and bass and lyrics (all at the same time), which then reveals itself to be a incohate rendition when I fully awaken and playback the recording.

I write all of that to say, that this song is like a dream. This song is not from the conscious imagination. It is from somewhere else, its from the ‘night’, which has always served as a universal metaphor for the subconscious. The guitar inflexions aren’t normal. Even the irregular rhythm of the vocals. Its almost as if the ghostly whooo-wah-ah-ah’s is King’s subconcious reminder to us to say that ‘this is a dream’. The whole arrangement is a gift that presents to us its subject; the spectacle of an artist enraptured in his craft, and in that dream-like way, suspended in time. Because the very experience of being involved in the meaningful creation of art, and the flow that is required to achieve this, requires full engagement with the subconscious.

Then you realise that the mysterious guitar is supposed to represent the guitarist in the song…

Which raises a compelling idea; perhaps it’s not just that reality has an effect on dreams, perhaps dreams have an effect on reality. Therefore your confusing, preposterous, impossible yet strangely beautiful dream can change the course of human history. Or in other words, you have a profound responsibility to dream. And this song is living audial proof.

Stand-out line: ‘When he closes his eyes he’s in love, what a wonderful thing to dream of’