Since his emergence in 1996, Maxwell has too often seemed to represent a victory of image over substance. Although his debut, 'Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite', had been sitting on the shelf for two years, waiting for a record company to take the plunge and sign this obviously gifted Brooklyn soulster up, by the time it came out it had been overtaken by events.
D'Angelo's 'Brown Sugar' single and album had shown there was more than one young American singer who thought it was about time R&B got back to the Marvins and the Stevies for its inspiration. Like Me'Shell NdegeOcello, who had pointed the way for the Erykah Badus and the Lauryn Hills, Maxwell seemed to be the leader history was destined to ignore, a memorable haircut in search of a similarly indelible musical signature.
Two and a half albums later (his 1997 'MTV Unplugged' was officially just an EP), Maxwell's problems are once again laid bare. There's plenty of wonderful singing on this album, set in soundscapes of emotional intensity that recall - inevitably - his spiritual and sonic mentor, Gaye, and Prince's more reflective moments.
But for all its stylish exuberance, 'Now' is an album full of wonderful sounds that's lamentably thin on songs. 'Temporary Nite' starts off as if it meant to go in a Jamiroquai-like seventies disco direction, but then meanders off elsewhere, never very sure of what it was moving towards in the first place, while closer 'Now/At The Party' - as close as Maxwell gets to earthy funk - is far too polite for its own good.
An astonishing vocal performance on his cover of Kate Bush's 'This Woman's Work' aside, there is little here that makes an impression any more lasting than that left by a ten minute sit in an expensive and luxuriantly upholstered sofa. Classy, stylish, but a little sterile, 'Now' is, well, quite good. And that isn't really enough.
