Now I’m not one to gossip, i’m not the gossipy type, but...

The last that you heard of 80s soul great Alexander O’Neal may well have been the less than gratifying name-check on Nas’ “Hip Hop Is Dead” set. You know the opening verse on “Blunt Ashes” where Nas alleges that Alex’s role as early leader of Prince protégé’sThe Time was unhinged by a fondness for Beelzebub’s White Blusher. This passing reference to music industry tittle-tattle * other sources have it that O’Neal was ousted by Prince for looking “too black”, and replaced quickly by Morris Day * is fitting however, as it provides a neat link to the album that O’Neal remains most famous for (with very good reason).

The link, of course, is in the title itself. “Hearsay”, released in 1987, is one of the best soul albums of the decade, and cuts like “Fake” and “Criticize” will still murder a dance floor given half a chance. But these two more well-known tunes are themselves only firsts among equals, the most dance floor friendly tunes from an album that has virtually no weak spots. These faster paced tunes, of course, showcase the Minneapolis Funk sound to greatest effect, with Jam & Lewis’ trademark production providing further evidence of their brilliance and distinct creative peaks during this period.

Indeed O’Neal was perhaps the best male vocalist that Jam & Lewis worked with, a deeply soulful singer with impressive range and power, who could turn his attention to pure funk, as well as passionate balladeering, with equal finesse. Always massively popular in the UK (O’Neal is the only singer to sell out the huge Wembley Arena for a successive six-night run), even here he has fallen into a semi obscurity (although more recently has been seen on some celebrity reality TV nonsense and can still sell-out big shows). And with it, it seems that Hearsay’s reputation has also floundered somewhat, which is a gross injustice. Purposely echoing Marvin Gaye’s party skits from “What’s Goin On?”, the album is a sophisticated concept album of its own. Perhaps not the social conscious drive of Gaye’s ultimate classic, but an interesting take on love and romance and the fickle fortunes of attraction nonetheless.

Opener “(What Can I Say) To Make You Love Me” is under-rated pop excellence, a mid-tempo Jam & Lewis tune that bristles with their horn-led party vibes and popping snare, and lyrically is deserving of much higher praise. For O’Neal’s takes on the fluctuations of love are insightful, witty and intelligent, and worthy of far greater attention than people might suggest who write him off as a smooth loverman only. There is that element, of course, but this is no reason to dismiss his work. The slower cuts on the album, of which there are plenty, are testimony to this sophistication, with the heartfelt apology of title track “Hearsay”, a fine slice of “begging soul” that Teddy Pendergrass himself would have been proud of. “The Lovers” is a fantastic tune which brushes the allure of romance with a tinge of melancholy, played out in its strings and electronically regimented detachment, while “Sunshine” and “Crying Overtime” are simply great soul songs in the truest sense, particularly the former which again has an impressive depth to it.

And then there is another perennial favourite with the massive Cherelle duet “Never Knew Love Like This”, featuring stirling support from these other Jam & Lewis stalwarts and stablemates, reminiscent of their brilliant earlier collaboration “Saturday Love”. “Hearsay” is one of those rare albums that you can listen to from start to finish and feel like you have been through a coherent piece of work, tied together musically and thematically, refreshing in the days of one-off download and production for hire. If you only know O’Neal because of a fondness for “Fake” then you really should work around to the full album that produced it. Like the man himself says in the opening skit, this is Alexander O’Neal’s party, and when I say party, you gots to party. Persuasive stuff. Or maybe that is just where we came in and Nas had it right all along. Either way, i’d like an invite to this partiuclar jamboree.