Somehow,
Solomon managed to rally together some fairly big names to accompany him on his self-titled release. Both
Blues Traveler frontman
John Popper and former
Parliament/
Funkadelic keyboardist
Bernie Worrell appear on more than half the disc. New York avant-gardist (and leader of Marc Ribot Y Los Cubanos Postizos)
Marc Ribot turns in an oddly generic appearance on "I." Groove bassist
Melvin Gibbs appears on a pair of tunes. Former
Living Colour axeman
Vernon Reid adds his work to "Smile," "Chameleon," and "King Solomon." Despite all the help, the music still feels awfully stunted. It appears as if each contribution was made without consideration of the others, resulting in distinctly uninspired playing from an array of top musicians. The songs here sound like a sensitive singer/songwriter lodged somewhere between the hippies and the new agers and backed by studio musicians. As such, the songs are filled with preachy advice, tales of relationships gone sour, and many allusions to social ills.
Solomon sings in an over-emoted, reverbed drawl that wouldn't sound out of place on an angst-ridden grunge disc.