Like a grittier, lower-budget version of Steve Spacek and Jamie Lidell, Nino Moschella pumps new blood into the creaky-jointed soul-man paradigm. What we understand as soul music is overburdened by historical precedent. A multitude of superior talents has paraded before our eyes and ears over the last four decades; hence it is difficult to tackle this beast without looking like a preening fool or a ludicrous charlatan. So when somebody appears who infuses the familiar machinations with fresh energy, attention must be paid.
On his debut album, The Fix (recently released by Ubiquity), this Bay Area multi-instrumentalist/vocalist updates the steez of diversely talented megalomaniacs Stevie Wonder and Prince. Playing most of the instruments and handling all the vocals, Moschella—whose June 23 Seattle show was cancelled as we were going to press—makes a strong case for the vitality of the ramshackle, lo-fi approach to funk and soul. Besides possessing a voice capable of making people of all sexual persuasions want to bump uglies with him, Moschella plays, “drums, bass, guitar, stuff with strings, stuff with skin, hand claps, string bass on my sweatshirt tassels. I’m workin’ on my keys.”
The 14-track album starts auspiciously with “Are You for Real,” which conjures the whimsical woo of Parliament, Sylvester Stewart, and Prince—all slow-grind funk beats, stage-whispered pillow talk, and seductively cheeky (simulated?) clavinet riffs. This killer soul gem affirmatively answers Moschella’s titular question. “The Fix” features chunky beats that seem to be produced by malicious mallet hits on garbage cans, providing a wondrous contrast with Moschella’s creamy croon. The metallic whomping percussion sound here is as satisfying as repeatedly punching Karl Rove’s paunch. “Strong Man” uses well-hung, John Bonham–esque beats and a voice that conclusively proves that Sicilian-Americans do have soul. Moschella’s voice bears an intense androgyny, but it’s as sexy as a Betty Davis/Steve Marriott duet. Only the maudlin soul ballad “Holding On” dampens the disc’s libidinous hot streak.
Skeptics may dismiss The Fix as merely a well-executed facsimile of funk/soul’s golden-age tropes. There’s some truth to that view. Rufus’s “Tell Me Something Good,” Sly’s “Babies Makin’ Babies,” AWB’s “Person to Person,” and Stevie Wonder’s “Maybe Your Baby” also sound like inspirations to many other hedonistic grinders on The Fix. The disc’s also distinguished by Moschella’s bass, which recalls Larry Graham’s robust sinuousness and Miroslav Vitous’s limber melodiousness.
However, not everyone’s familiar with Moschella’s predecessors, so his music could inspire newbies to explore vintage funk/soul giants—and he is springboarding off some of the best music ever. But no matter its 2006 release date or debts to past greats, The Fix is an astounding work due to Moschella’s nuclear-powered life force and phenomenal vocal, melodic, and rhythmic abilities. To paraphrase the aphorist James Brown, “He’s got soul, he’s superbad.”
