Gil Scott Heron: The Poet In Winter
Published by L. Michael Gipson on Wednesday, February 3, 2010 at 10:49 am.Weathered and brittle the authoritative baritone of Gil Scott-Heron returns with his first album in 13 years on February 9th with “I’m New Here” (XL Recordings). Part Amiri Baraka, part Lenny Bruce, part John Lee Hooker, for 36 years Gil Scott-Heron has been one of the world’s most influential, pioneering spoken word poets in modern history. Blending blues, socio-political commentary, and a dash of acerbic wit the poet in the winter of his life comes back to listeners reflective, still running a player’s game in broad’s ears, life-worn, but not bitter or defeated. There is plenty of pain vulnerably on display on “I’m New Here” the frustrated soul cries on the near operatic “New York Is Killing Me” and “Me and The Devil.” “On Coming From A Broken Home” Heron is matter of fact when he giving credit to the women in his life for making him a man, quietly shames the gangsta crowd’s misogyny. He also takes a subtle swipe at the pro-consumerism and impoverished values of the contemporary “broken families” who seem unable to appreciate the moderation of making something out of what you have rather than obsessing over what you don’t. Without playing victim or sympathy-seeking, Heron provides flashes of sage insight into his own late-life drug-addicted, incarcerated years on cuts like “Running” and the inside/outside perspective of a street addict’s experience on “The Crutch.” He’s unapologetic about the arrogant, driven man he is, crediting it with his survival on “I’ve Been Me” and adroitly using it to advantage when silver-tonguing women as on “Your Soul and Mine” and the Witheresque “I’ll Take Care of You.”
The provocative apocalyptic electronic back drops created by producer Richard Russell (Radiohead, M.I.A.) are occasionally leavened by country field claps and acoustic guitar licks and always respectful to the wizened 60-year old griot and his sidewalk songs. For those starving saps who only know Gil Scott-Heron for “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” (or worse, only know the phrase), “I’m New Here” is an essential re-introduction (or even introduction) to a man whose peak happened during the Nixon years in what now appears to be a neo-Nixon era. “I’m New Here” is never boring, much like listening at your grandfather’s knee or ear hustling Old G’s corner lamentations, filling the mind and the soul. And, I for one, am grateful for the privilege. Welcome back, Brother Gil.

RSS Feed


