Album Review: 6IX

Veteran player Evan Silva has done the hard yards in music and beyond both here and in Australia. He’s one of those musicians whose own personal journey is intricately intertwined with the evolution of pop, soul and R&B in our corner of the Pacific, with a career that stretches way back into the 1960’s. That includes fronting bands like the Motown inspired rhythm and blues group, The Action, long revered for their high energy performances and musical flair. He also spent stage time with Compulsion, and Hamul, to name a few. Along the way Silva’s also worked the studios as a session singer (you may recognise his voice from commercials like McDonalds, KFC, Farmers, or Stubbies). He’s been a songwriter, he’s podcasted. He’s been an author – check out his two autobiographical works: Under the Afro (2013), Pieces of Silva (2019). And he’s even done altar-time as a marriage celebrant.

Biographers note that Silva’s ‘spiritual encounter’ in the late 1960’s profoundly reshaped his identity as a “different kind of soul man,” after years spent in a hard‑living, Motown‑influenced scene marked by arrogance, heavy drinking, and occasional violence. His early‑1970’s turn toward Christianity transformed his life, breaking the cycle of destructive behaviour and setting him on a path toward ministry and faith‑infused music. He eventually became a pastor, leading Harbour Christian City Church in Auckland and later serving in Ōrākei. Consequently, his music shifted toward themes of faith, hope, reflection, and soulful uplift, though he continued to draw from his R&B and Soul roots.

This is what you get on 6IX, a collection that is silky, reflective, unmistakably his own. Silva may have been a Pastor but this is not a religious work. The themes are wider, more humane, universal. Love, comfort, unity, and respect – there’s a lot of aroha in his room. The music is smoky, aged and mature – a whiskey-worn blend of classic grooves, a bit of Latin, a dollop of soul, and decent scoop of laid‑back orchestrated jazz.

Silva opens with Say Bye to Winter, a light, summery track calling us to renew ourselves, “ditch that ole winter coat”, push away the gloom and face into the light of Spring. I will say that given the season we’ve had so far, that was a bit of a challenge. But, almost miraculously, as I plug in the ‘phones’ and settle down to take another listen, the clouds have been pushed away and my room is, indeed, as promised, filled with sunlight.

Silva’s gently quivering baritone timbre has a lived‑in warmth that almost gives you goose bumps, especially on It’s Gett’n Late as the number travels softly and effortlessly across your ears. Like a warm, comforting blanket, hints of smooth Latin‑soul and mellow jazz. Messrs Sinatra, Cole and Co. are definitely my go-to comparisons. I definitely enjoyed Steve Wilson’s guitar licks and Liam Ryan’s lush keys and piano orchestrations. It’s so settling and delicious. As I scramble for metaphors, I keep landing on an image of sticky date pudding with a whiskey caramel topping.

This is one of two versions, filled with cliché, but seemingly appropriate, references to stars, the moon, etc., it has a melancholic, contemplative vibe and phrasing that could only come from a person with many years’ experiences under their belt.

The second incarnation, titled It’s Getting Late Again, is an even more lush, swooning lullaby. Once again, goose bumps for me, thanks to the addition of harp, an endless ‘string section’ and a super silky trumpet solo. The closing lines: “Soothe me with your lullaby” says it all.

More classic crooning, as Silva channels Johnny Mathis or Andy Williams on Beauty, Minimalist, but still luxurious arrangements never overpower, yet give the song a perfect sensual, emotional feel. This is the kind of song my mother would play when she cooked just for my father. Perhaps his favourite steak dinner. Sure, it’s a 50’s trope but it got to me. It has an old-world romance to it which gives me yet more warm fuzzies and brings back good memories.

Time for a bit of some Sammy Davis Jnr. sway and swagger with the Latin‑infused Anya. Late summer 50’s exotica, this is a pure beach samba boogie trip to Brazil. Quick, find me a Caipirinha cocktail.

For a full romantic soundtrack put on Just Us Two this Valentine’s Day. You won’t regret it. Turn the lights down, mix the cocktails, and pull your beloved in close for a slow dance wrapped in plush, orchestrated, luxurious charm.

If you are nostalgic for 70’s MOR then Silva’s got the goods, with Made For Love, a light funky, yacht rock number, that could have come straight off the set list from a schmoozy, velvet jacketed wedding band.

For this album Silva’s pulled together an ensemble of long‑time collaborators, like keyboardist Liam Ryan, guitarists Kristian Bennett and Steve Wilson (also production and mastering), bassists Fitz Polis and Gus Fenwick (who also helped with production), Ernie Semu (who created some beautiful music beds) and percussionist Juan Muzzio. Their playing is so stylish, reminiscent, such a fitting accompaniment to the music and Silva’s vocals and style. And you can’t argue. This album, it really does have style!

Evan Silva has made, what I think, is the perfect late-night lounge listen. This album is a true comfort listen – reminiscent of an old Sinatra or Nat King Cole record – never twee or overworked, but glowing with an easy, unforced smoothness. It exudes a seasoned grace, the sort that can only be distilled from a lifetime spent under stage lights and smoky club ceilings. We all know the world is a mess at present. We need some escapism, a little bit of nostalgia, luxury and romance. So, embrace it. Now, why don’t you two lovebirds roll out the sheepskin rug, lower the lights, drop the bottle in the ice bucket and snuggle down by the fire? Evan Silva’s got you covered on the stereo.