Jordan Valentine is 6 feet of old school, no-foolin’, soul screamin’ powerhouse, and she’s become a fast favorite with lovers of new soul and funk from her Boston roots all the way to the BBC in London. Her latest album, Van Van & Cleo May, brings the passion and power of her live show to disc for the first time. Along with her 7-piece, drum-tight band The Sunday Saints, Valentine rips through 10 tracks of funky originals and classic New Orleans R&B with fire and fury. BBC soul DJ Craig Charles said of Valentine, “What a voice...just wonderful!” Legendary Wigan Casino DJ and Goldsoul Records CEO Kev Roberts called her, “A force to be reckoned with.” The Boston Herald calls her simply a “soul diva”. Her commanding presence, tremendous vocal power and unforgettable songs make Van Van & Cleo May part revivalist meeting, part Saturday night sin, and all soul satisfaction. From the Boston Globe, Friday September 10, 2010: CD Review by Jonathan Perry JORDAN VALENTINE & THE SUNDAY SAINTS “VAN VAN & CLEO MAY’’ Self-released There are few singers around town who can touch Jordan Valentine for brassy bluster and old-school sizzle. But capturing the energy, urgency, and charismatic swagger of an in-the-moment live performance, and then translating it to a studio setting for posterity, is another matter entirely. Just ask James Brown, Tina Turner, or Otis Redding — all of whom blazed brightest under the hot lights, working it out in front of a live audience. While this audaciously self-assured debut co-credited to Valentine’s crack seven-piece band the Sunday Saints may not match every rivulet of sweat-soaked soul she summons on stage, it offers a potent primer on what this Boston outfit does so well. Cut with more Stax/Volt grit than Motown sugar, Valentine & Co. bump and grind their way through 10 tracks (including a trio of choice covers) of hard-grooving, New Orleans-spiked R&B. It’s a testament to both the strength of the band’s songwriting chops and its attention to vintage period detail (’65-style Memphis horn charts; wah-wah dosed electric guitar) that originals like “Daddy’s Boy’’ and “Get At What You Got’’ sound right at home alongside chestnuts like Cyril Neville’s “Tell Me What’s on Your Mind.’’ Like Etta James (whose version of “Seven Day Fool’’ she tackles with bumptious aplomb here), or soul revivalist Sharon Jones (with or without her Dap-Kings), Valentine convincingly conjures an earthy personae that’s at once tough, tender, and hard not to root for. And while Valentine’s powerhouse voice rarely fails to deliver a knockout punch with brass knuckles, it’s the hard-hitting rhythm section that will leave the listener reeling.