One of Detroit’s finest, Amp Fiddler is an old fashioned soul man from days long passed. A multi instrumentalist blessed with effortless musical talent akin to Prince, a funk pedigree most would promptly sell their souls for (he has backed George Clinton and the Brand New Heavies and his bother Bubz is a bonified P-Funk family member) and a honey suckle voice steeped in Motown molasses, you get the inkling Amp Fiddler would make a sneezing fit sound sexy and look cool.

Not unlike this months other superlative nu-soul release by Dutch crooner Ben Sings, Fiddlers excellent third album proper is smooth as you like and strong from whoa to go, but while Sings had his sound gently laced with sunny hip hop and Sonar Collective’s jazzy tinges, Fiddler takes an approach that is decidedly more ‘Motor City’. Fiddler’s last album, the underrated Waltz Of A Ghetto Fly, had him mixing his funk/soul pedigree with the linear deep techno of Moodyman and Carl Craig and it worked superbly; mostly because of those producers almost academic reworking of the Motown/Staxx aesthetic into their productions. Afro Strut is certainly less abrasive, probably because the influence of the enigmatic Moodyman is less apparent, but it still packs a sweet punch and the depth, complexity and sheer passion driving the music should heed a lesson to the R&B featherweights out there.

Although he would probably hate the comparison, Amp Fiddler is a lot like British soul man Lewis Taylor in both desire and design. While their nu-soul sound is very similar; with equal dashes of retro disco and funk with modern electronica sensibilities, both have extraordinary talents criminally overlooked and that dumbfounding sense of still being ‘underground’ while lesser artists seem to clamber to the top. For Fiddler it’s been twenty years plying his trade and the albums opening track Faith could almost be a career mantra with it’s “You got to keep the faith” refrain. Fiddler’s strong vocal line is wrapped in confident keys, sassy cowbells and stepped up percussion picking up from the last albums strong dance floor orientated stance. The Corrina Rae Bailey duet If I Don’t has a delightful 1930s swing feel with both vocalists turning in confident sassy performance and Not is swooning Motown balladry at its best.

Fiddler de robes and climbs into the hot tub for the steamy, string laden Hustle and Neco Washington’s jaw dropping performance on the albums other duet You Could Be Mine outstrips any female vocal cut this year. Fiddler funks up Hendrix with a celebratory rework of Hey Joe turning it from mysterious psychedelic ode to sprawling soul jam without losing an ounce of its power and lead single Dreamin with its smooth disco stomp and trippy Rhodes keys could set any dancefloor alight; in fact it sounds like the kind of obscure cut Giles Peterson would drop. The modern Detroit influence is evident on the dreamy closer Come See Me with Fiddler paying homage to both Kenny Dixon Jnr and the late J Dilla with techno handclaps dancing clumsily alongside drunken drums and squeaks and Fiddler’s heavenly croon.

This is such a solid, soulful album from Amp Fiddler that’s executed with a flawless musicality and almost ruthless confidence. In an ideal world artists like Amp Fiddler would triumph over commerciality and Nelly would have to scrounge around dustbins for chicken wings to survive, playing low key gigs with an overweight unshaven Timberland bashing away at an old church organ in some waterfront dive. Alas as it stands, this album will probably slide by unnoticed and Amp Fiddler will just keep doin’ his thang as the fools continue to make millions. Make no mistake though, this is stunning soul music; serene and pure and bringing this album into your life will only make you (and inevitably Fiddler) richer, which is no bad thing.