Where the words come from

La Shawn Barber sees down to the undercurrent:

Something like the reverse was true half a century ago. Gospel chords and harmony and the occasional shout abide at the very heart of rhythm and blues — there was a reason they called it "soul" music, after all — and the secularization of the process to produce actual pop hits may or may not have incorporated a spiritual message. There was, however, some question about the propriety of this kind of transformation: for instance, when Sam Cooke temporarily stepped aside from the Soul Stirrers to put out a pop tune ("Lovable," 1956), he used a pseudonym, lest the gospel fans be upset.

And "seeking something deeper" is a universal human experience. It even worked on Motown's assembly line: your attention is invited to Jimmy Ruffin's "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted" (Soul 35022, 1966). As I wrote in Vent #206:

Even allowing the dumpee a certain measure of hyperbole, though, doesn't account for lines like "I walk in shadows, searching for light / Cold and alone, no comfort in sight."

If R&B today seems about as spiritual as Fritz Lang's Metropolis, it's due to cold calculation on the part of its vendors — or maybe it's just wandering in the desert, in which case things should get back to normal in about forty years or so.