Fifteen tracks from a preacher's son who made one of the best R&B debuts of the 2010s and then took his time about everything that followed.

Ro James
Ronnie James Tucker was born on a United States military base in Germany and raised largely in the church — his father was a minister — which is the standard biography for a soul singer except that in his case the tension between those two facts is audible in the music.
His records are explicitly, unapologetically sensual, and they are also structured like gospel: call and response, sustained builds, the voice cracking at the top of a phrase rather than gliding. He sounds like someone who learned to sing in a place where the subject matter was different but the technique was identical.
What kept him from a bigger career is probably the pacing — long gaps between albums, and no interest in chasing whatever the radio was doing. What it produced instead is a catalogue with almost no filler.
What to listen for
"Permission" is the breakthrough and still the best single — a slow, guitar-led record with a chorus that arrives almost apologetically.
"A.D.I.D.A.S." aside, "Holy Water" is the one where the gospel and the flesh are least separable, and it is the most interesting thing he has recorded.
"New Religion" and "Last Cigarette" are the album cuts that reward repeat listening, and "GA$" is the most rhythmically adventurous.
"Already Knew That" and "Last Time" are the openers here and set the register: warm, unhurried, slightly rough at the edges.
"Excuse Me" and "Touchy Feely" are the light ones, and "Rain" is the ballad.
"Black & White" with Brady Watt and Topaz Jones is the collaboration worth hearing twice — a live bass-led arrangement that suits him better than any programmed track.
Go deeper
Eldorado (2016) is the album, and it holds together far better than most debuts of its era. The Coke, Jack & Cadillacs EP trilogy that preceded it is where the sound was worked out.
He sits in the same lane as Miguel, BJ The Chicago Kid and Luke James — singers with real range who chose guitars and grit over polish. BJ The Chicago Kid's In My Mind is the natural next record.
Listening note: the church is in the technique rather than the subject. Listen to how he approaches the top of a phrase — he lets the voice break rather than smoothing into it, which is a gospel habit, and it is what gives records about entirely secular matters their peculiar intensity.
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