There’s almost always some difference or disjunction built into modern rock ’n’ roll—the difference between the tone and nature of the words vs. the way they’re performed. Commonplace lines are played as anthemic truths, surreal word soup is set to Beatlesque pop, intimate confession is treated as an offhanded trifle, and so on. That tension is largely absent in contemporary R&B, which seems to be defined by depth of feeling. On Lost and Found, the New Orleans-born Ledisi feels everything very deeply.

 

Ledisi’s songs are elemental in their simplicity—modern takes on Quiet Storm grooves, over which she sings about joy (“Joy”), being in love with her best friend (“Best Friend”) and how she tried (“I Tried”). She’s lyrically positive, making decisions and embracing life’s journey with sincerity and an open heart. That description makes the CD sound like Oprah set to music, which is right but only sort of. There’s no conscious irony and no disjunction in the music or the show, so those accustomed to more complex discourse distrust the simplicity and belief in feeling. If you accept Lost and Found’s musical values, though, Ledisi sounds like a wise part of a sister circle who has learned some of life’s lessons and is passing them on in the simplest, most passionate way she knows how.