"Standing in the ruins of another black man's life," intones Gil Scott-Heron over muted electro beats on "Your Soul and Mine," his baritone ravaged but unmistakable. The lines must resonate for the veteran singer, activist and proto-rapper, who has spent the past decade in and out of prison on drug charges. This comeback abandons his signature soul jazz: There's a lone acoustic guitar on the title track, a Smog cover; noir strings and electronics à la Thom Yorke's The Eraser elsewhere. It's a steely blues record at heart — the sound of a damaged man staring in the mirror without self-pity but not without hope.