Like fellow Chicagoans Carl Thomas and Avant, Dave Hollister is a “hip-hop infused” R&B singer, a phrase that Hollister supposedly helped coin, according to the website for his recent release Real Talk (Dreamworks). Unlike Thomas and Avant, however, Hollister is not the type of singer who believes in switching up or even developing his style. He borrows enough from funk, soul and gospel music to appeal to his own unique demographic — people who usually buy his albums.
“I titled this album Real Talk because it’s about the real — that’s all,” Hollister says on the Web site. “I wanted to sing about situations that people actually go through in their lives, not fake shit about pie in the sky and all that bling-bling fantasy stuff you see in hip-hop videos.”
Braggadocio and faux-pimp exploits are absent from Real Talk, but the album certainly has its fair share of formulaic hip-hop themes. On “Winning With You,” an track about the woman in his life, Hollister enlists the help of heretofore unknown rappers R-N-La, a duo seemingly invented for the sole purpose of being featured on R&B records.
Not all of the songs are syrupy enough to play for your significant other, however. “The Big Payback” is a none-too-subtle send-up of James Brown’s song of the same name, with Hollister taking shots at the people in the music industry he feels have abandoned him: “Sick and tired of Hollywood games/ Hollywood smiles and Hollywood fame.”
The bitterness is justified. It has, after all, been a long time since the popular ode to fidelity “One-Woman Man” made 2000’s Chicago ’85: the Movie a gold-selling album. But there are few songs on Real Talk that can match “One-Woman Man’s” sincere emotion.
Hollister dedicates “Never Gonna Change” to “all the ghettoes of the world,” but he probably could’ve done that on “Good Ole Ghetto,” another song on the album. “Good Ole Ghetto” might resonate with people unable to afford Hammer pants as a kid; I personally know the shame.
The song “Bad When U Broke” is what “Never Gonna Change” and “Good Ole Ghetto” want to be. Oddly reminiscent of Anthony Hamilton’s break-out hit “Coming From Where I’m From,” Hollister bares his soul with the pathos of a gospel singer: “Lord give me a sign/ And let me know when you’ll bless this life of mine/ ‘Cause it’s hard, hustling in the street.”
The album is not without other gems, either. “Karma” is a nice little head-nodder; its drum programming is a little harder than on most of the other songs on the album, and the in-studio guitarist is allowed to be more creative. If you listen to the song, you might actually forget it’s a rather depressing track about vengeance and retribution.
On “Real Talk,” the title track, Hollister croons, “Real as I can be with you/ I just wanna creep with you/ I ain’t trying to be your man/ Girl, I hope you understand.” Even though it’s essentially the anti-“One-Woman Man,” Hollister treats even the theme of casual sex thoughtfully.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that Hollister doesn’t indulge in a healthy bit of R&B raunch. “Case is Closed” is a clever bit of foreplay, with Hollister cloaking sexual innuendo in police jargon.
But if there’s any selling point to this album, it is its unintentional hilarity. For example, while “Almost” talks about “almost” crossing that fine line with a loved one from anger to infidelity, “I Lied” actually does cross the line. This is brilliantly tongue-in-cheek, even if he didn’t mean it that way.
And if you buy this album, get it for the two pick-up lines that make 50 Cent look like an amateur: “I need you as bad as old folks need soft shoes/ I’m drunk off your love like I’ve had too much Absolut.”
