Album Review: Believe In Love by Darryl Anders Agapésoul
Darryl Anders’ Believe In Love, released in 2012 under Bassique Maddness, is a soulful journey that blends R&B and funk with heartfelt sincerity. This isn’t just another album—it’s an experience. With its lush arrangements and raw emotion, it feels like Anders poured his entire being into this project. And honestly? He kinda did. From playing bass to executive producing, he wore more hats than a haberdashery owner.
Let’s talk tracks. First up, “Tell Me Where It Hurts.” This one hits hard right outta the gate. The groove grabs you by the collar, while the vocals—layered but intimate—feel like a late-night confession. You can tell Anders means every word. There’s no over-polished sheen here; it's gritty yet smooth, like your favorite leather jacket. If soul music had a pulse, this track would be it.
Then there’s “Time Cannot Erase (Instrumental).” Whoa. This cut sticks with you because it doesn’t need lyrics to tell its story. The instrumentation speaks volumes—literally. Every note feels deliberate, each riff pulling at something deep inside you. It’s the kind of track you’d put on during a road trip or when you're trying to figure life out. Soul without words? Yep, it works.
The production credits are stacked too. With names like N. Gallant and V. Lars sharing the producer role alongside Anders, the sound stays cohesive but never boring. Props also go to J. Patrick Stern for nailing the photography—it captures the vibe perfectly. That cover art screams "soul revival" louder than any press release could.
What makes Believe In Love stand out is how personal it feels. It’s not chasing trends or radio play. Instead, it’s rooted in authenticity, which is rare these days. Tracks like “Heaven Can Hear Us” and even their take on Stevie Wonder’s “Sir Duke” show respect for the classics while carving out their own lane.
In the end, what lingers isn’t just the music—it’s the feeling. Listening to this album feels like reconnecting with an old friend who still gets you after all these years. Or maybe like finding a dusty vinyl in your parents' attic and realizing it’s exactly what you needed to hear today.
Oh, and here’s the kicker—I bet Darryl Anders didn’t just make this album for us. I think he made it for himself. And somehow, that makes it even better.
