Black women in the United States need someone with swag, a bit of charm, and replete with a measure of respect. We must not forget that she demands they show themselves to have more than an ounce of dignity before “love” can be alluded.
Many black women who may find themselves coupled up know all too well that love is capricious. For instance, infelicity and the dearth of sentimentality may invoke rage, and at times, leads to conflict. Deliberately or otherwise, navigating ourselves through such relational conflict can be daunting. And whether questions arise about what it means to truly fall in love or be they bridge the differences that divide (on which passion is restored), music is the feature to guide us on our journey through the heart. Should you be in search of the kind of music that’s rich, sweet and remedial, you must hear the voice of Tree Grundy.
The “Jill Scott meets #Floetry” vocals of Grundy in her five-track yet irresistible album of U Don’t Even Call, carries the torch of neo-soul and has the fervency of authentic R&B. First, there’s Comeback Down, which blesses women with autonomy and makes us conscious of our capacity to “spell cast” love – a flair that can be elicited alone with #feminine sexuality. This tune is transformative and serves most as a massive supply of “secret elixir”, an effective force to grant women the grace and the confidence needed to seduce, capture, and to make anyone fall head over heels.
Then we embark on the chord, U Don’t Even Call, Part I & II (UDEC), which takes on a sombrous tone – is ballad-like – and catapults us into the part of the relationship where everything is fractured. Here, we’re alone and eagerly awaiting the call – only to discover the person (who we love and seemingly, doesn’t love us back) fades completely out of our existence.
The native Houstonian transfers the thread of fractured relationships in Missing U, where she pans into a story of dependency and investment. The moral of this tune is: no matter how much energy you invest, sometimes it just doesn’t (or can’t) work. The track also conveys the sort of nostalgia that musters the rawness of a broken heart but helps us remain resilient in the face of adversity. Similarly, it conjures up the fresh and celebrated good times sharing your heart often delivers.
U Don’t Even Call ends with a prevailing piece titled Massive, where Grundy uses metaphor to describe love as being addictive yet a curative to separateness. The spectrum of the album covers it all: shattered connections, restorative confidence – and is on track to prove that the mystery of a woman still lies in her sensuality.