Yaya Bey is enchantingly mellow on do it afraid

Even her last album, the well-polished Ten Fold, included distinct flashes of mercuriality, Bey juxtaposing idyllic scenes (of clouds and flowers, for example) with repeated acknowledgement that all things fade (death is ever-present).

Still, while contemporising the R&B genre, Bey clearly drew from feel-good 70s and 80s sources, as well as the laid-back sides of Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, and D’Angelo. With do it afraid, Bey reaffirms and deepens this alignment, reveling in slinky melodies, dreamy timbres, and casual yet enticing vocals. The project also points to a matured brand of acceptance.

On “end of the world”, keyboards sparkle, beats are crisp, Bey’s voice is earthy, supple. “Hold me in your arms tonight / act like it’s the last night of your life”, she implores, conjuring a scene at once languorous and charged, as if she knows that the days are passing quickly, life is unpredictable. Time (and timing) is of the essence.

“breakthrough” mixes happy-hour piano chords with after-hours vocals, merging rap, scat, and breathy melodic movements. One can imagine Bey performing the faster-paced and tropical-sounding “merlot and grigio” on a “Tiny Desk” episode or a cruise ship in the Caribbean. The soul-inflected “ask the questions” would appeal to both Sade and George Clinton, Bey’s voice tinged with craving, resolve, and hard-won wisdom. “a surrender” shows Bey shifting into spoken-word mode; her voice, diving into a lower registry, is framed by splashy synth sounds.

“raisins” is slightly stormier, replete with frayed synths that cross the jazz club and suburban garage. Bey’s voice spikes and subsides, the singer matching desire with patience. On “real yearners alike”, she provides a meandering vocal, anchored by spry beats, accented by melodic guitar runs. If Bey’s mellower or more watery throughout afraid, she’s also and paradoxically more undilutedly present, and spurred by an enlivened equanimity.

“Lost in the world / I thought I knew my way”, she confesses on “no for real, wtf?” Later she adds, “I just want to dance / before it all ends”. The singer seeks her way in a fragmented and dangerous world; like any bona fide romantic, she turns to love for solace and direction. If she can’t have love/the perfect love, at least she can dance: a brief respite before reality again crashes the party.

Some listeners may feel that afraid’s easy-going vibe is too unvarying and grows cumulatively disengaging. Fair enough. But even “in a circle”, with its new-age-y lyrical pivots, features compelling melodies. Bey’s vocal may border on being Mood Media-ish, but it’s also irresistibly sensual. “bella noches pt 1” isn’t barn-burning rap, but the sonic elements are intriguingly ambient. Additionally, Bey’s layered and syncopated vocal lines are no less than transportive. In short, afraid may demand a bit more from the consumer, in terms of mindful listening, but variety and range (and intensity) are indeed present, even if more understatedly.

afraid unfurls, like many R&B sets, as an ode to love; that said, Bey knows that the unparalleled drug is not a panacea. Contrary to the cliché, love doesn’t necessarily cure all ills. Bey may well idealize the distraction and balm of an Edenic union, but she knows what it’s like to be alone, unhappy, lost. Only someone familiar with the maze of despair could sing this achingly of paradise.