Interview: “Again & Again”: Cedric Brazle is Bringing Yearning Back to R&B By ANTHONY MCLAUDE September 28, 2026

Feature Image by Amos Reece III

 

 

Again & Again:

Cedric Brazle is Bringing

Yearning Back to R&B

 

 

Image by Amos Reece III

 

It’s 2:17 AM in New York, and I’m still awake, writing. The kind of late when the city starts to soften around its paralytic edges, when the noise dies down and whatever, or whoever you’ve been trying not to think about becomes impossible to ignore. Earlier tonight, I met a woman at a bar, and now, a Raheem DeVaughn record is playing in the background, “Customer” to be exact, with “some lovin” on the side.

There was a time when men in R&B had no problem admitting they wanted true love, with their hearts still swooning openly through their Usher-esque confessions. Luther Vandross could turn longing into a declaration. Babyface could make heartbreak sound like devotion. D’Angelo has given us the impression of desire as something vague, mystical, and personal, whereas Maxwell has surrounded us with an entire universe of romance, sensuality, and commitment.

Those men understood a truth that contemporary R&B still can’t seem to acknowledge: it is not particularly cool to act like you don’t care. Some things outlive the need to be explained by those determined to manufacture clashes and divide generations. The coolest thing might be caring completely. This is the time-honored tradition Cedric Brazle is stepping into with “Again & Again.” His music lives in that space between desire and vulnerability, where a man can miss somebody, need somebody, be afraid to lose somebody, and still sound entirely in control of himself. For Brazle, yearning isn’t a weakness. It is strength expressed through conviction.

“I don’t think men have forgotten how to yearn,” Brazle tells me. “But I do think we’ve gotten better at hiding it.” That idea sits at the center of “Again & Again,” a record that treats romantic vulnerability, the simple act of admitting you want someone, as something that can still feel almost radical.

 

There are no emotional evasions here. No attempt to disguise desire as indifference. Brazle wants to want somebody, and he wants to sound like it. “There’s been this idea that being unaffected is somehow more masculine than admitting what you truly feel for someone,” he says. “Some of my favorite R&B came from dudes who weren’t afraid to want to love out loud.”

The “out loud” matters. In Brazle’s writing, romance isn’t treated as something that has to be disguised behind coolness, ambiguity, or emotional distance. The song’s confidence comes from the opposite impulse: saying what you want and trusting the feeling enough to stay inside it.

Brazle has an appreciation for R&B’s history when he approaches the music, but he is not focused on replicating it. He refers to his style as “modern nostalgia,” something that reflects the juxtaposition inherent in his methodology: the music has to sound familiar but never old-fashioned. “There was patience in a lot of the music I grew up loving,” he says. “A song could take its time. A vocal didn’t have to do too much.”

 

 

 

That sense of memory and emotional inheritance extends beyond “Again & Again” and into Brazle’s forthcoming project, Cologne (Vol. I), due October 14. The project is, in many ways, a love story told through places, memories and the people we once experienced. “I wanted it to feel like a film you could hear, where every song carries you somewhere different, and the story changes a little each time you return to it,” Brazle says.

The title itself comes from his grandfather, who was Brazle’s first example of manhood and his closest example of a father figure. Brazle received a piece of perfume from Alfred Sung called Hei’ after the death of his grandfather. A fragrance that might seem quite ordinary has transformed into something deeply meaningful – a reminder of someone who played an important role in how he perceives love and masculinity.

Cologne became a symbol of memory and legacy. The idea that the people who shape us can remain present long after they are gone, sometimes through something as simple as a scent. It is also a fitting metaphor for the way Brazle approaches music. Like fragrance, memory has a way of transporting you. A particular scent can return you to a person, a room, a season of your life, or a feeling you thought you had left behind.

In that essence, Cologne (Vol. I) is much more than a love song anthology. It addresses the question of what survives after the moment has gone: cities, feelings, and people who stay and affect our further actions, sometimes remaining unnoticed.

 

Sensuality of patience is audible in “Again & Again,” a slow-burning, atmospheric R&B ballad. The dreamy sounds of electric keys, similar to the ambient tracks heard during the ‘90s rhythms and blues genre, enhance the mood of the song yet at the same time leave enough gaps for the singer’s vocals to shine through. The late-night talks turn into early morning conversations during which people develop feelings and become emotionally closer to one another. As defenses soften and trust begins to take shape, Brazle lets the romance develop slowly, without ever forcing the moment.

His smooth, velvet-toned baritone voice carries just enough of the earthy romantic charm one may associate with classic male R&B, but when he climbs into his falsetto, “Again & Again” becomes more intimate, closer to the unguarded vulnerability that made Maxwell’s upper register so effective during the Urban Hang Suite era. It is there that the emotional temperature changes. That hushed, intimate softness feels almost confessional. He understands that what he reaches for above can communicate something he cannot find below. “I’ve learned that different parts of my voice carry different emotions,” he explains. “My baritone has a certain weight to it. It feels grounded and assured. But then I move into my falsetto, there’s a vulnerability that naturally shines through.”

 

For Brazle, yearning belongs in that space. “I think yearning lives really well there,” he says. “So does intimacy.” That became particularly important on “Again & Again,” a song that arrived during a period when Brazle was reconsidering whether he still believed in the kind of love he had once wanted. “I was in a place where I was questioning whether I still believed in that kind of love,” he says. “When you’ve been disappointed enough, you learn how to protect yourself, even when part of you still wants it.”

The bare-hearted lyrics make that tension tangible. “You don’t let no one in your space,” Brazle sings, before turning toward the emotional surrender at the heart of the song: “You can finally let down your guard / I’m yours.” The romance here isn’t presented as effortless. It is really about what happens when someone who has learned to protect themselves decides that intimacy is worth the risk. That is what gives “Again & Again” its emotional weight. The phrase sounds repetitive by design, but Brazle sees repetition as a form of commitment rather than indecision.

“For me, ‘Again & Again’ is really about choosing someone repeatedly,” he says. “Not because the relationship is perfect, but because even after you’ve seen each other clearly, you still want that person. There’s something powerful about being able to say, ‘Knowing everything I know now, I’d still choose you.’ That’s what ‘Again & Again’ means to me.” In that sense, the song’s repetition isn’t about going backward. It is about choosing forward, again and again.

 

 

 

 

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