On September 14, 1995, the Jazz Café in London was abuzz with electric anticipation. Chaka Khan, Lenny Kravitz, Soul II Soul’s Jazzie B, this writer, and others all crowded the upstairs tier’s VIP section. D’Angelo’s Brown Sugar had hit stores two months prior, but the whole world wanted a live taste of America’s new 21-year-old soul wunderkind.
As the night’s lights dimmed, the intimate crowd screamed. Dressed in jet black, the shy singer-songwriter in tight cornrows stepped center stage, confidently taking a seat behind his organ, and blew everybody clean away.
D’Angelo delivered transcendent nights—events with a capital “E”—from the very beginning of his career.
D’Angelo’s debut album, an organic blending of R&B with the percussive rhythms and attitude of hip-hop, was like nothing an