Jill Scott Pulls From All Directions Yet Centers the Sound on Triumphant ‘To Whom This May Concern’: Album Review

Jill Scott's artistic identity has always been one of profound depth and contradiction, a truth evident throughout her career. This multifaceted nature is on full display in "To Whom This May Concern," her first studio album in over a decade. At 53, the Philadelphia-born singer-songwriter approaches her sixth album with the same confident, introspective bravado that has defined her since her landmark 2000 debut, "Who Is Jill Scott?: Words and Sounds Vol. 1." That album established her as a soulful storyteller exploring love's comforts and complexities, a role she continues to refine.

Thematically, Scott delves into personal history with unflinching honesty, examining the aftermath of two divorces on tracks like "Me 4" while remaining open to new romance, as heard on "A Universe." However, the album's true breakthrough is musical. "To Whom This May Concern" stands as her most experimental work to date, a sprawling 19-track canvas that masterfully blends cocktail jazz, big band arrangements, cosmic R&B, and diva disco. This ambitious scope recalls the work of her longtime peer Erykah Badu, particularly Badu's "New Amerykah" series. To achieve this vision, Scott collaborated with a staggering array of nearly four dozen musicians, including producers like Om'Mas Keith and featured artists such as Ab-Soul, Camper, JID, and DJ Premier, who produced the Tierra Whack-featuring "Norf Side."

Scott's voice remains a powerful instrument, though it carries a deeper, more seasoned wisdom than on her 2015 album "Woman." She uses her mezzo-soprano with masterful control, from the feather-light delivery to the powerful climax on the community-focused lead single "Beautiful People." She reaffirms her status as modern R&B's poet-in-residence, tracing her lineage on "Offdaback" with nods to icons like Nina Simone and Ella Fitzgerald, and contemplating self-worth on "The Math." As music critic Anika Reed noted in a recent analysis, "Scott's genius lies in making the deeply personal feel universal; her diary entries become anthems."

Yet, the album also showcases Scott's playful, liberated side—Jilly from Philly in full effect. Tracks like the funk-driven "BPOTY" (an ode to the "biggest pimp of the year," fittingly featuring Bay Area legend Too Short) and the boldly sensual "Don't Play" cut loose. She fully embraces a disco queen persona on "Right Here Right Now," declaring her resilience in love. The album's extensive duration may challenge some listeners, but its richness is central to its appeal. Scott has never been an artist to spare details or dilute her message. That she can push her sound into such bold new territories while retaining her core artistic self is a testament to her enduring, ever-evolving relevance in music.