After a considerable lull and an inspiring visit to Ghana, Wonder returned to the studio after the relative failure of the Jungle Fever soundtrack. Electing to dispense with his usual band personnel, all of the instrumentation on the album is largely played by Wonder himself and the result is a more immediate record that at least sounds different than that which preceded it. His preoccupations still seem more or less the same — love, sex, love, god, love lost, and some larger social concerns — guns, violence, equality, and he makes reference to the Holocaust. The best effort here, bar-none, is Stevie’s near 7-minute meditation on getting played by a lady “Cold Chill,” which despite its rousing outtro describing in detail how cold things got — “like standing in the deep freeze/ like when the snow’s above your knees/ like a winter Chicago night/ buried beneath ten feet of ice” — the track shines with the brilliance of a hundred suns. Maybe it’s just because it’s refreshing to hear that even Stevie can get dissed, or maybe it’s merely great to know that stripped down, he still can bring the heat.