Maxwell

Expectedly mellow, R&B crooner Maxwell’s much-teased fourth album, BLACKsummers’night, is part one in the BlackSummers’Night trilogy to be completed over three years with BlackSUMMERS’Night and BlackSummers’NIGHT. Oh, boy.

The title/concept, in true Maxwell fashion, is embellished, sure. You could picture an exasperated theater student explaining, “No, no, this one is BLACKsummers’night, not BlackSummers’NIGHT.” But really, the material in this first installment is more digestible than usual. Maxwell’s poetic stylings, though still prominent, are a bit less intimidating, which makes for a tranquil nine-track disc with few highs or lows.

Maxwell has a tendency to think too big. Postulating broad theories in five-minute songs, he’s the opposite of, say, Ne-Yo, who specializes in very trivial relationship moments (not going to bed mad, sex in front of a mirror, etc.). No, Maxwell is more complex—not necessarily better, just more complex, his protocol since his 1996 debut, Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite.

The arrangements on BLACK—all performed by Maxwell and his 10-piece band, then filtered through the singer’s production team, Musze—are lively and layered and plush, and the temperature remains cool throughout. The constant with Maxwell is that he tackles the topic of love with a philosopher’s eye: “I’m eating crow, babe/I had to go and think that I could be more best/Left alone, then with you next, it develops nonetheless” (he offers on the Prince-esque “Cold”). It’s easy to fancy the mood of his music over its poeticism, but with BLACK, he strikes a pleasant balance that’s neither boring nor overwhelming, title notwithstanding.