
I waited much longer than I’d initially planned to write this. An album like Terius Nash’s 1977 (the first for The–Dream to release under his real name, given out as a free download last week) needs time to sink in. It’s everything that R&B should be; complex, boiling over with emotion that angers, moves you, sucks you into its tangled net, and makes you feel as though these situations are your own. It’s convincing, stripped down and vulnerable to the point of being uncomfortable. It is definitely not the work of The–Dream.
Over the span of three albums, Nash has spun fantasy and ego into the ultimate R&B messenger, The-Dream. He is a woman-pleasing provider, a stud who feels safe, and when he hurts you, he calls to make sure you’re OK, because he has both heart and conscience. He is the ego that lives inside every man—the storybook hero, equal parts strength and sexual bravado. We know when we listen to The-Dream that none of this is reality, and that’s exactly why we listen to The-Dream.
1977 is an intimate look at the tortured artist behind the finely drawn lines. A real man, who goes by the name Terius Nash, who has loved and lost, made mistakes and suffered consequences. It doesn’t have the hooks, the hits of The-Dream albums. The production work doesn’t pulse with sexual energy, or possess that crisp studio sheen. It’s so sad and honest, stays stuck in your throat like a lump of nerves following a flood of bad news. “Used To Be” is a bitter ode to love gone dead. The fight you start because you want to make her cry. A grab her by the shoulders, forced look in the mirror at the person she’s become. Pure anger and vengeance, born from hurt. “Wedding Crasher” is the tried and true coping mechanism—just keep smiling on the outside—relayed through song. The upbeat, sing-song production skips along cheerfully, but can’t mask the lyrics which spiral from arrogance to despair with each drink. We’ve all been there.
There have been several reviews of 1977 claiming it an assertion of rank targeted towards the newcomers in this year’s R&B resurgence. I think it’s a lot more subtle than that. Like the emotions contained within the lyrics, 1977 is an honest gesture. A quiet message of mentorship from a veteran to his protégés—the boldest fantasies come from the darkest corners of your reality.
Download Terius Nash’s 1977 here.
Terius Nash – Used To Be
Terius Nash – Wedding Crasher