Quiet introspection as modern day bluesman looks at the world where he came from and where he stands.
Son Little’s Cityfolk is a quietly absorbing record that resists easy categorisation. Often described as a blues or R&B artist, Son Little moves well beyond those labels here, crafting something more introspective and fluid. There are echoes of Valerie June and Michael Kiwanuka in the tone, while the spirit of 1970s-era Stevie Wonder lingers in the album’s warmth, hope and restraint, as well as its lyrical concerns.
Rather than leaning on traditional blues structures or obvious rhythmic hooks, Cityfolk is built on subtlety. Drum loops and Latin-tinged percussion drift in and out, but rarely take centre stage. In fact, the album rarely breaks into even a trot; only The Valley comes close to being driven by the drums, while most tracks settle into an unhurried, almost meditative shuffle. Toward the end, this drags a little, the last two tracks feeling a bit extraneous, but in the main, it’s a coherent, engaging album.
Lyrically, the record is reflective and grounded. Themes of family history, the Black experience in the American South, and personal growth run throughout. Let’s Get Involved stands out as a call for collective responsibility and community engagement, while Be Better turns inward, urging self-improvement as a catalyst for wider change. There’s a clear lineage here to the plainspoken soul of Bill Withers, both in message and delivery.
The standout moment is Cherry. It’s a hazy, woozy meditation on love that feels lifted straight from the 1970s, as are all the best tunes, of course. There’s a looseness to it, but it quietly embeds itself after a few listens.
Recorded over an extended period in Muscle Shoals with Ben Tanner, Cityfolk feels patient and unforced. It doesn’t demand attention, but it rewards it, an understated, thoughtful album that values mood and meaning over immediacy.
