The incomparable Paul Reubens passed away last week. Paul Reubens has been better known by pretty much everyone for the past 40 years as Pee Wee Herman. The list of people who I adored in the 1980s when I was a young boy and still consider myself a fan of now is short, but Paul Reubens is on it. I’m not going to say I watch Pee Wee’s Playhouse or Pee Wee’s Big Adventure on the regular, but if Pee Wee is on TV, I’m stopping to check it out.
Another person who had his moment in the pop culture spotlight around the same time and holds a similar place in my heart is Sananda Maitreya. You probably know him better – if you know him at all – as Terence Trent D’Arby. I’ll now attempt to sum up 60 years of Sananda Maitreya’s fascinating life in a few sentences. Terence Trent Howard was born in Manhattan in 1962. He took the last name of his stepfather, added an apostrophe, and became Terence Trent D’Arby. He was a Golden Gloves boxing champion as a teen. He joined the Army. While he was in Germany he started recording music. He must’ve like it. He was dishonorably discharged after going AWOL. In 1987 he released his debut album Introducing the Hardline According to Terence Trent D’Arby to much acclaim. His pugilistic skills weren’t the only thing he took from boxing as he also adopted the boastful personality of Muhammad Ali. TTD once referred to Introducing the Hardline… as the most important pop album since Sgt. Pepper. Talk about putting a bullseye on your back.
His 1989 follow-up Neither Fish Nor Flesh is the poster child for the dreaded sophomore slump. In hindsight, Neither Fish Nor Flesh is an excellent album, but maybe a bit too artsy for a major record label. He released a couple more albums, moved to Europe – eventually settling in Milan – and changed his name to Sananda Maitreya. Sadly, he has since spoken of Terence Trent D’Arby as someone who needed to die so that he could live. He talks of being kicked off of the mountaintop because the establishment didn’t want him there. He also said that he’s happy he didn’t spend much time on the mountaintop because those who shared it with him – Prince, Michael Jackson, and George Michael (his comparison, not mine) – are all gone now but he’s still here. Throughout all of this he has continued to record and release music.
And I have listened to all of it.
I first heard of TTD while watching the 1988 Grammy Awards. He was nominated for the coveted Best New Artist award. I had never heard of him. I was only 11 years old. I was mesmerized by his performance of “If You Let Me Stay” that night and was instantly a fan. I’m still pissed that he was beaten by Jody Watley. Jody Watley?!? I don’t recall how I was able to get cassette tapes as a kid (my parents must have bought them for me), but I somehow obtained a copy of Introducing the Hardline… and that thing lived in my Walkman for the next year. Two months after his Grammy performance his second single “Wishing Well” hit number one on the Billboard Hot 100.
By the time 1989 rolled around I was ready for TTD’s second album and to say it was a letdown is like saying the Titanic had a difficult trip. As an adult I’ve come back to Neither Fish Nor Flesh and it’s a damn good record. However, as a 13-year-old I was not having it. Not when there were artists out there like Bobby Brown and LL Cool J. Look no further than the album’s first single “To Know Someone Deeply is to Know Someone Softly” if you’re trying to figure out why a kid in junior high in 1989 might not have enjoyed that album.
But I didn’t give up because of one disappointing album. His next two albums – Terence Trent D’Arby’s Symphony or Damn and TTD’s Vibrator – have been wildly underrated since their release. I believe they paid the price for the failure of Neither Fish Nor Flesh. After Vibrator in 1995 TTD vanished…or at least that’s how it felt to me in an era when social media didn’t exist and internet was scarce. He didn’t have any albums during that time period so I had no idea where he was. Imagine my surprise when he resurfaced with an album in 2001 called Wildcard! that was sold as both Terence Trent D’Arby and Sananda Maitreya. It was like hearing from an old friend for the first time in years, but if he had also moved to Italy and changed his name so nobody could find him. Wildcard! is arguably his best album, and that came as a bit of a surprise to me because I had to buy the album on eBay. I couldn’t find it in any record stores where I live, but apparently Europe loves them some Sananda Maitreya, so I shelled out the money to get the CD shipped here.
Sananda Maitreya has released several albums since Wildcard! but they’ve been too hit or miss for me to listen to them consistently. When asked in a 2013 interview for The Guardian whether he thinks his music is too esoteric for mass consumption he replied, “Maybe it’s not meant for mass consumption.” Well said. Even if his last 20 years of music haven’t hit the mark for me like his first 15 years, that still leaves me five albums to enjoy.
I’ve said on many occasions that I think Sananda Maitreya is best male vocalist I’ve ever heard. I didn’t say my favorite. I said the best, though he is one of my favorites as well. I’m not sure how one proves or explains a claim like that. D’Angelo and Prince are my favorites and they’re both amazing vocalists in a category of their own, but I’m not sure I can say I’ve ever once listened to one of their songs because I wanted to hear their voice specifically. I will listen to a Sananda Maitreya song simply to hear what he can do with his voice. His voice has multiple personalities that come out often in the same verse or chorus, occasionally even in the same note. This quality is best exemplified on 2001’s “O Divina“. The song opens with a verse so syrupy sweet it’s borderline annoying. His delicate voice gently floats over a bubblegum pop melody. Then the bridge hits and he reveals a voice so raspy that it’ll make anyone who’s ever tried to sing jealous because it can’t be imitated. He spends the rest of the song alternating.
Another quality Sananda Maitreya brings to his music is the creativity to make an old song sound new every time he performs it. Amy Winehouse had that same ability. We’ve all heard “Wishing Well”, right? I linked to it above. Now check out this live version from a 1995 concert in London:
The music might be the same, but he sounds like he’s making up a new version of the song on the spot. I suppose after you’ve performed the same song repeatedly you have to change it up to keep yourself from getting bored. Like Andre 3000 saying at the 2004 VMAs, “OK, for the millionth time “Hey Ya!” God damn it.”
Now just for fun I’ll add a couple of his “holy shit, I didn’t know a human being could do that” vocal performances. Here he is covering “Who’s Loving You” originally performed by The Miracles. It’s also been done by The Jackson 5, En Vogue, and The Supremes among others, but once you hear this version you’ll never care to hear any others again. Masterful.
OK, one more. Back to London in 1995 to hear him singing “Holding On To You” from his Vibrator album. No description necessary. Just listen to the man.
This was the part of the post when most would finish by wondering what happened. How did this guy not become one of the biggest artists of all-time? That always seems to be the narrative with him. People always ask what happened? Isn’t it obvious what happened? Even with all of that talent he was never meant to be they guy who everyone loved. He wasn’t trying to make hits. He sure as hell wasn’t trying to make music for the masses. He was making the music he wanted to make, even if it wasn’t the music the rest of us wanted him to make. Read any interview he’s done in the past 25 years. The man speaks in parables. He’s not like most of us. He’s a true artist who followed his heart instead of fame and fortune. A one of a kind talent. It took guts to release Neither Fish Nor Flesh when he did. Most artists in his position would’ve played it safe and put out a cookie cutter pop album to remain at the top of the charts. Some might call it foolish. I respect the hell out of it. He made music the way I assume most artists would if fame and money weren’t involved.
The better question would be what were people actually expecting out of him after Introducing The Hardline...? Did people actually listen to the album? It’s not like there weren’t signs that this cat was different scattered throughout that album. The opening song “If You All Get To Heaven” isn’t exactly the way you’d expect a pop star to open his debut album. It’s a 5+ minute epic complete with haunting chants people singing in Latin. Then there’s “As Yet Untitled“, another 5+ minute song. This one is a haunting acapella track that always reminded me of Gordon Lightfoot’s “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” for reasons I can’t explain. It’s also one of the most stunning vocal performances I’ve ever heard and my “case closed” moment in the argument for greatest male vocalist of all time.
If you’re interested in hearing more, or maybe you just dug “Wishing Well” back in the day and you want to hear it again, here’s a link to an Apple Music playlist I made featuring some of my favorite songs from those first five albums. After hearing the playlist hopefully you’ll understand why I set up camp on Terence Trent D’Arby Island 35 years ago and never left even though sometimes I think I’m the only one there. Maybe you also now realize why the death of Paul Reubens inspired a Sananda Maitreya blog post. Two unique talents who rose to prominence in the 1980s and did things their own way.
mookiefantana 