Liquid (aka Victor Oquendo) spins his story from a place of truth, being born to a 17 year old mom and a 14 year old dad into a hard life that was watched over from the get-go. It is the Presence of the One who placed him there that informs this remarkable album, for Liquid sees beauty and hope where others see only despair. He's got street cred, big love and mad versatility that makes "Tales From the Badlands" one of the year's most interesting projects, to my mind.
Opener "Back in the Day" is a jubilant ride in the way-back machine to Liquid's childhood on north Philly streets in the 80s. While he mourns the loss of innocence he also celebrates George and Weezie, Conjunction Junction, and Curtis Mayfield. Apparently Liquid watched a LOT of television, but I'm down with anyone who misses Curtis this much. "One Time" completely changes musical course with flamenco guitars and spanish horns, but get used to it. One of the great strengths of this album is its refusal to be pigeon-holed into one style; Liquid veers from hip-hop, to Latin, to reggae, to 70s R&B in the blink of an eye, sometimes in the same song. "One Time" is a frank commentary on the realities of the culture's racist perceptions, which leads me to another of the album's assets: its unique willingness to find both beauty and pain in the same source and to embrace both. Liquid says, "I feel like people in the ghetto have the same basic problems as kids in Beverly Hills- it just looks different." "Tales From the Badlands" attempts to bring healing by pointing toward the vast love of God to cover every soul, from Philly's inner city to Beverly Hills, and to do it from a canvas of richly diverse, expressive songs. And he succeeds wildly. But back to the music.
The tender ballad "Good To Be" poignantly showcases Liquid's soft touch on the keyboards while conveying the reunion of a father and husband to his family after his release from jail, more of the album's recurring redemption theme. The lovely floater "Sunrise" overflows with gratitude, praise, and the offer of faith to the hopeless. "Ghetto" is pure 70s groove, referencing the 1990 "20/20" program that first featured and actually named the Badlands, Liquid's home, as a high crime area of hopelessness. It was this TV show that stayed in his mind for years, until the time when he could bring a fresh word of hope to the same people, affirming both their innate worth and beauty and their hope from above. He does not shrink back from acknowledging the heartbreaking realities of kids having kids and young men scorned, but his lonely trumpet recognizes also the "men and women of the church taking back the streets." Standout soul-rock track "Pressing On" is mighty Mayfield, referencing every cultural ill from Osama to Bill Clinton, while calling the church to press on in their fight for victory in the streets, soul by soul. "Gangsta" is notable for its guitar-driven perspective on the development of the gangsta, and should be required listening for everyone disconnected from street life, certainly for any who calls themselves believers. A cry for God's help is beautifully expressed in the delightful "Swing Low," with its rich island feel. "So Real" is a moving altar call for the corner, and quiet Latin closer "When the Sun Goes Down" speaks of the volatility of Liquid's world, expressed not with blame or resentment but with soft vocals and a gentle heart. Liquid's love for the street and its people shines powerfully through "Tales From the Badlands" and will hopefully provoke more of the same from the hearts of its listeners.
