How D'Angelo changed music, in three songs

October 21, 2025·37 min·3 clips

Brandon reveals how D'Angelo's church upbringing mirrors his own, forging a deep parasocial bond through the Hawkins family's music.

D'Angelo is the reason everyone showed up. The Switched on Pop crew treats the conversation as a celebration of his life, career, and the musical choices that made his work last. They begin with context, nodding to their earlier Voodoo conversation, then get back to the sound instead of talking about influence like a museum label. Rihanna hears the contrast first. The drums feel strong and live, while D'Angelo's vocal and Roy Hargrove's horns move more softly around them. That push and pull gives the performance its shape: rhythm planted underneath, breath and brass floating above, with neither side crowding the other. The Roberta Flack comparison makes the point sharper. Her original returns after the chorus, but D'Angelo, Questlove, Roy Hargrove, Pino, and the others hang back. Nobody rushes the landing. They sit in a funky E dominant groove and let the pocket show what a stretched-out R&B arrangement can do. The panel hears respect for the source, but also a different feel, almost as if Roberta Flack's song stepped into Parliament-Funkadelic's long-form groove world. The comparison works because the point is not copying. D'Angelo knows how to honor older music by changing the engine. The jazz players matter too. Hargrove and Charlie Hunter give the cover an improvisatory looseness, so it feels less like a remake and more like musicians finding where the song wants to live. The talk stays nerdy in the good way. E7, pocket, groove, and chorus all point back to something the listener can actually hear. By the end, D'Angelo's craft sounds like patience: reverent, slow-burning, and fully his own.

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