Words by Lou Wright

According to XL Records, Gil Scott–Heron’s newest release, I’m New Here, has the artist “throw[ing] down the gauntlet to we the people; challenging us to get involved, be informed, retain a sense of humor and do the right thing.” Now, see, all those things would be warmly welcomed and timely as ever. And in his long and mind-shatteringly important career, Scott-Heron has done all those things. “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” did that. “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” did that. I’m not entirely sure that I’m New Here does that – but I think it does something even more daring. Rather than advising on man’s relation to power, to oppression, to struggle, the record speaks to man’s relation to man, or more accurately, woman.

Beginning with “On Coming From a Broken Home (Part 1)”, I’m New Here intersperses smoky, soft-voweled and hard-edged spoken word with what can only be described as trip-hop blues. Metallic, bass-heavy beats of pure nighttime provide a backdrop for Scott-Heron’s ruminations on what it means to be a son, a lover, and a person in a world where things don’t always fit right and people make due with what they have. Highlights include the apocalyptic “Your Soul and Mine”, the heart-breaking “Where Did The Night Go”, and the rough-hewn jive of “New York Is Killing Me”. The second in that series whips out the following crusher–

“I should go to sleep now and say / fuck a job and money / because I spend it all on unlined paper / and can’t get past / “Dear baby, how are you?”

Heavy stuff. Heavy like the man’s oeuvre is expected to be. But heavy in a drastically personal, blisteringly honest way that might disappoint some political die-hards. More than anything, more than the beautiful music, I admire Scott-Heron for not kowtowing to a public image of fire-breathing public square preacher dedicated to the big questions. He’s proved himself over and fucking over again, and everything said on I’m New Here resonates with that weight of self-assurance and experience. With a brutal intelligence, Scott-Heron takes countless clichés – the strong black woman, the deal with the devil, the post-Armageddon microcosm of the ghetto – and refuses to let them rest on their laurels. Nothing here comes easy. Every symbol is raised as a flag and promptly set alight.

I have no idea what the man’s plans are after this record. I hope there are quite a few more. And I hope that the world that thinks it’s making a point every time it opens its mouth pays attention. This isn’t politics. This isn’t superheroism, and this isn’t fire in the streets. But you can be sure as hell that this is revolution (XL Records, 2010).