Michael Kiwanuka’s fifth album is also a kind of homecoming to his roots. Fudge embraces the exquisitely raw and orchestrated sound of his cherished debut and, far from the conceptual ambition of his self-titled masterwork that won the Mercury Prize in 2020, represents a step forward from his most recent work, Small Changes, where he sounded somewhat stagnant.
That lesser ambition works in Fudge’s favor, and although it’s hard not to read it through the stroke he suffered months before finishing it, from which he is still recuperating in a rehabilitation center, the truth is that the record, recorded mainly in Southampton and Frome, and produced by Kiwanuka himself, is more marked by everyday vulnerability than by tragedy. Fears, insecurity and the difficulties to connect with others thread through the songs, which find in the warm, tired timbre of his voice their best ally.
It will be some time before we hear new Kiwanuka compositions, as the British singer-songwriter focuses on his recovery. Fortunately, Fudge offers a series of tender songs to comfort us during the wait, embracing his usual blend of psychedelia, blues, folk, ghostly country, and above all that thing they call “slow soul,” from the epic development of “Summer Clothes,” where he sings “You saddened me, so I knew I had to leave,” to the simplicity of the acoustic “Swings and Roundabouts,” which closes the album, passing through the delicate “Drowning in Your Heart.”
Sometimes these instrumental developments can be deliberately excessive, which in the propulsive and beautiful “Just Another Moment” is a deliberate strength. Between violins, organ and an almost infinite coda, Kiwanuka sings “Never should you be afraid” and alludes to lies and to others’ judgment.
In other cases, the explorations sit too far at the outset, as in that “Steve’s Paradise” with echoes of country-blues, where the guitar, the organ and the winds take a while to yield to a song that is recognized as “empty and finished.” “You Sent Me Flying” is perhaps the loneliest piece, with that moonlit acoustic lullaby vibe and a classical, romantic orchestration.
The melodies and the instrumentation are applied with great taste, as are the vocal distortions and the psychedelic guitars, although the insistence on melancholy ends up building a central stretch perhaps overly downbeat. In “Across the Sky,” Kiwanuka concedes that his head is miles away, while in “Love in My Heart” he acknowledges his own difficulty in letting himself be loved: “You’re pushing you away from me.” “Move in My Direction” reinforces the need to come closer, accompanied by the fear of causing harm. They are vulnerable and tender songs, but their accumulation ends up making the album feel considerably gloomier than the lead single promised. “Stars,” despite its wrapper of psychedelic soul, ends up fairly inconspicuous.
I kept thinking of the debut at the start of the review because that record shined in its simplest moments. In “Fudge” it seems that, on tracks like “Sing,” Kiwanuka seeks to complicate a simple idea, breathing melodrama into it with strings, while his weary voice fails to match that emotion. “Life is hard,” he sings before affirming love and the need to sing, but the orchestra ends up weighing too heavily. “California,” the second track, is an example of the good balance the album’s sonic palette can achieve, which in the end doesn’t sound as colorful as its cover, though it is just as sincere and emotive as ever.
