Whether he knew it or not, Bobby Womack was just about dead when he made this thing. Not a lot of artists get to make an album which Wikipedia calls their twenty-seventh and final, and fewer still do anything worthwhile with it; immediately preceding Bravest Man in the Womack catalog are 1994's Resurrection, an aspirationally-titled comeback that is unforgettable only in the sense that it was never remembered, and 1999's Traditions, Bobby's contribution to the horrifying genre of Christmas albums by penniless soul legends. Womack watched his career come to an unceremonious close almost entirely outside of his control, its last gasps coming in the form of albums like the above-named or the gospel pivot Back to My Roots, casting around desperately for any still-living audience. Then, for a long time, nothing.

At some point, somehow. he fell in with Damon Albarn, formerly of Blur and currently of Gorillaz. Albarn's a huge tool, apparently, but also a very valuable ally in the music world; without him, it's hard to imagine Bravest Man getting made, let alone released. The concept's a tad unclear, but the result is a sort of companion piece to that very cool remix album Jamie XX did with Gil Scott-Heron - Albarn and XL Recordings head Richard Russell produced a hip, modern (i.e. pointedly and identifiably 2012) soul album and let Bobby do what he wanted with the vocals and arrangements. The results run the gamut: the title track had been kicking around for decades but never recorded; Lana Del Rey appears for a duet; a sublime 109 seconds are given over to a minimally-accompanied rendition of all-time gospel spiritual Deep River*. The album's got unbelievable inertia; each of the first eight tracks have been my favorite at some point, and because of that initial run it's very difficult to abridge it in any way. It's a totally unique album in a totally familiar form, an achievement that can't be overstated. I'm comically overenthusiastic about a lot of things, but this really is one of the great overlooked records of... ever.

* For a little while, I was the alternate DJ for In the Spirit, WTJU's Sunday morning gospel show, perhaps the platonically ideal radio slot. There was, and hopefully still is, a woman named Clarice who would call in at the end of every show; for the regular DJs and especially any substitute, it was of the utmost importance that Clarice enjoyed the show. My second or third time on, I dropped Deep River in the middle of the set, prompting an immediate call from Clarice, who harmonized with the last minute or so before saying a quick thanks and hanging up.

Highlights: Please Forgive My Heart, Deep River, Whatever Happened to the Times