Second Listen Sunday : Christión, “Project Plato”

Some albums you remember because they were huge; others because you could never understand why they weren’t. Christión’s 1997 debut, “Ghetto Cyrano”, falls into that second category for me.  

I first heard their cover of “I Wanna Get Next to You” in high school, and the mix of old-school soul, hip-hop attitude, and grown-man songwriting stuck with me. “Full of Smoke” got my attention, but the album made me a fan. I never understood why Christión didn’t become bigger.

Eight years later, I was stationed in the United Kingdom and DJing part time when a British soul magazine mentioned Christión was releasing another album. By then Allen Anthony had moved on, while Kenni Ski continued with T. Ross. That should have made “Project Plato” feel like Christión in name only. Revisiting it now, it doesn’t. Chemistry changed, but musical philosophy stayed the same.

“No Place” brings back the group’s strongest quality: soul music with something on its mind. “It’s Gonna Rain” and “Save My Baby” lean into socially conscious, spiritually bruised R&B that recalls Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield, and Stevie Wonder without sounding like a history lesson. Christión understood that music about struggle could still groove.

“Project Plato” settles in the middle. “Let ’Em Know” has urgency, while “I’ve Grown” gives me what I wanted after eight years away: maturity without sanding off the edge. “My Reason” slows things down without becoming generic bedroom R&B, and “Grandma’s Grove” carries familial warmth. Anthony’s appearances on “Slow Motion” and “Grandma’s Grove” also provide a welcome connection to the original lineup.

Not everything has aged equally well. Twenty tracks and several interludes make the album longer than necessary, and some mid-2000s production choices date it more than “Ghetto Cyrano”. Still, the sequencing feels intentional. By the time “Broken Streets” and the funkier “Do Ya Dance! (Dedicated to Mr. Wonder)” arrive, Christión proves the formula had more to it than neo-soul nostalgia.

What I hear differently today is how stubbornly “Project Plato” refused to chase R&B radio in 2005. That may have hurt its reach, but it gives the album personality now. It isn’t “Ghetto Cyrano”, and it doesn’t need to be.

For listeners who miss R&B that could groove, testify, reflect, and still sound streetwise, “Project Plato” deserves another spin.  

Christión’s second chapter never got the attention the first did, but 21 years later, its moments explain why I kept waiting for them to come back.

Grade: B