Bow Down to the Queen, Knaves! Bow!

There are certain things that one can count on this time of year. Whether it be the endless array of holiday specials making their annual appearance on television, the added masses of people at your favorite local hotspots, or the swift purchasing of exercise equipment to fulfill those pesky resolutions, there's something about the end of December that seems familiar, comfortable even.

Right alongside Frosty the Snowman and 2/$1 deals at the Sizzler is Mary J Blige, the self-proclaimed Queen of Hip Hop/Soul. It seems that every other winter brings about some type of creative surge (or knowledge about inflated Christmas sales) for the still popular matriarch of r&b, as 2005's massive The Breakthrough and 2007's Growing Pains have been released at the time when snow wafts in the atmosphere and the taste of hot chocolate is still on everyone's lips. As chance would have it, a third Deciembre album was released a short time ago, hoping to recapture the astounding success of Breakthrough.

The album hasn't gotten off to as big of a start as her previous two, partially due to controversial lead single The One. Known for her powerhouse vocals, Blige adopts a little bit of autotune on this futuristic swagger-fest, something that has divided her fanbase. To me, it's less offensive because it's done for effect/sound and its presence is minimal at best. Featuring a verse from Young Money's it boy Drake with a typically vanilla verse, it sets to throw the 30-something veteran into the clubs and succeeds at being infectious. I'll be extremely disappointed if Good Love isn't released as a single, as it has everything that makes a hit. A shining swirl of sunny horns, claps, and keyboards, it just screams summertime, the energy on the track allowing Blige freedom to just have fun and not take herself so serious all the time (something she has the tendency of doing). T.I. stays the supremely charming and delightfully southern presence that he usually is, a continuation of his tendency to liven just about any track up that he appears on. His flirty verse and easygoing demeanor are enough to solidify this as a smash in waiting. We Got Hood Love isn't a bad song, per se; it's just a little stale and feels like it's trying too hard to be the album's "anthem". Basically sounding like Be Without You circa 2009, it has a monster hook that Blige wrings every ounce of emotion from. Meek Trey Songz is a bit of a mismatch as a duet partner, his presence thankfully reduced to a quick verse and some back-up vocals. This type of material just feels beneath Mary when it'd be nice if she challenged herself.

Of course, what Mary J Blige album would be complete with the requisite positivity anthems? Appropriately titled I Feel Good takes an intriguing direction, eschewing the mindless mantra-laden uptempo for a more midtempo sound. With a graceful piano and generous back-up vocals, it's the equivalent of musical soul food; comforting, natural, and genuine, the bubbling production is modern enough to keep you interested. Each Tear is a bit more of a straightforward affair. Propped up by a sturdy bassline, it may give off cheesy vibes but it's a type of song that is necessary to just about anybody's musical arsenal. Letting you know that each failure is a lesson to be learned from and used as a way to grow, it may not be the glitziest or "sexiest" number on there, but when you're having a bad day, it's a listen that will get you motivated and keep positivity in your heart. Used as the theme from Oscar hopeful Precious, Color is absolutely stunning. You know that Mary is a talented vocalist, but to hear her against some 60s-ish production (brooding drums, spiritual organ that provides a hint of gospel) is enough to take you aback. She doesn't go as overdramatic as one would expect, letting the power of the words about self-discovery and beginning anew impact you more than her vocal. With shades of Aretha Franklin, it's a bluesy gem.

Featuring a not-so-subtle shoutout to husband Kendu in its title, I Love You (Yes I Du) has emerged as my favorite track on the record, at least in terms of repeat value and singability. With a frenzied, from-the-gut vocal that can only cause you to close your eyes and bob along (as the kids say, Mary "spazzed" on this), it feels like she's absolutely begging this man to realize that she still loves him, a spot of vulnerability on an otherwise growling ode to devotion and making things work. Produced by The Runners, album opener Tonight has an ominous, subdued vibe to it that feels like a dedication to those in a long distance relationship and the immense emotions of finally being in contact with one another. The nearly husky vocal rides the stuttering bassline deftly, hitting all the right spots to create a nice blend of anticipation and sexuality. I Am walks the line between love song, kiss off, and positivity anthem quite well, a song that can have different meanings if you read into the ambiguous lyrics in certain ways. To me, at the core it's a song about self-esteem, other people's expectations, and learning to let go. Such as is the case with Each Tear, this is a really simple piece of r&b that still manages to be one of the better songs on the radio. Blige's confidence anchors the song, the ease with which she serves up When you're far away and I'm not around/And temptation fills your heart/Think of all the ways that I'm faithful, babe/To replace me would be hard without coming off as bitter or obnoxious quite a skill to behold.

Stronger with Each Tear is mercifully succinct (Blige's albums are often a little overstuffed) and surprisingly consistent in a year where few contemporary r&b records could boast the same accomplishment. Approaching 40, Blige manages to avoid going too young with her material (the light autotune is forgivable), balancing the diva posturing and the more organic self-help tracks that will satisfy each extreme of her fanbase. This isn't the best record released this year, nor is it the best that Blige has or will do; what it is, though, is 40-something minutes of enjoyable, feel good music performed by a rather charismatic vocalist. In a time of year where bitter temperatures and awkward family gatherings reign supreme, Mary J Blige's album will help keep your spirit stronger for the new year.

Someone Needs to Pay the Power Bill...The Wattage on this Electricity is Low

With the break-up of Making the Band alum Danity Kane, the "hiatus" of burlesque quintet Pussycat Dolls, and the shadow of Destiny's Child lingering, there's been a noticeable lack of girl groups in pop/r&b. It seems that since the Houston trio made their mark on the industry, there's not been a female ensemble with enough staying power to really take the reins and become a force to be reckoned with. Whether it be in fighting or an overbearing svengali, it seems that nobody has lasted more than a couple of years before imploding.

Electrik Red has been a part of a recent surge in girl groups, competing against Sophia Fresh and Richgirl for the same audience and airplay. While none have been particularly successful (Electrik Red the most successful, by far), there's been a decent amount of online buzz for all three, suggesting that listeners are itching to latch themselves onto the next big thing. However, there's a big difference between buzz and delivering a quality product. Does Electrik Red's album suggest the potential to rise up and snatch up the Danity Kane/Pussycat Dolls fanbase that still remain up for grabs? Or is this yet another bland contemporary r&b album?

P is for Power has no semblance of a melody and some of the most materialistic, hostile lyrics on the record. On this rumbling cheerleader-chant with tribal-esque percussion, the group literally spells out their private parts and leaves the song open to possibly be about prostitution. As is the case with the rest of the record, the production is top notch, but the lyric is classless and the catchiness is nonexistent.W.F.Y. is a misguided attempt at turning the tables on a guy and "reclaiming" their sexual independence; it was a nice idea, but the song ends up packed with unnecessary cursing and some of the most bland similes that they could have come up with. They even acknowledge that they "don't want their mama to hear this song" and rightfully so. Muah could have been saved with better vocals. It may not be the most original or creative (the hook is redundantly vulgar and the rap is amateur) but with the swaggering melody and impressive vocal layering, it had the potential to be a cute kiss-off. The vocals are devoid of anything resembling emotion, falling into the ice princess delivery that has served the likes of Cassie.

So Good is the reason I became interested in the group in the first place, as it was played during the credits of some random MTV show. The video was interesting (a mishmash of neon colors, shadows, and pretty decent movement) and the song was unexpected, so I figured I'd look ‘em up. It's a lot more effortless than the rest of the record; a lot of the material feels like the group trying to fit into an archetype, rather than being original, but this breathy romp in retro synthesizers is infinitely catchy. Of course, there's a Remix tacked onto the end of the record, the only difference between the two being a forgettable verse from Lil Wayne. Friend Lover feels like the 80s just exploded, a vaguely club-friendly with a too-cutesy hook and brisk bassline. It may sound like a Janet Jackson reject with the disco-ish vibe and double entendre-laden lyrics, but it's actually a catchy little number whose infectious strut is a saving grace. Kill Bill is just goofy; a warning to an unfaithful man, it's messily put together, especially the shaky harmonies and shrieky verses. It's extremely in-your-face and sets itself apart almost instantly. Unfortunately, it's for the wrong reasons, as it's petty, faux feminist, and unnecessarily reliant on posturing as opposed to actual talent.

What was surprising to me is that they can do a decent slow jam, as most of their downtempo stuff is better than their dance tracks. 9 to 5 has a distinct desperation to it, a moaning ode to a skilled lover that keeps the group's more explicit tendencies to a bare minimum. It doesn't discover any new territory, but with the steamy production, softly cooing back-up vocals, and tender piano, it makes up for some of the earlier indiscretions. Devotion just sounds like a track from The Dream that they're covering, which is one of the side effects of working exclusively with one production team (i.e. that you don't get their best on a consistent basis). It's not a bad track, per se; it just doesn't feel very distinct. The way the melody is structured and the vocal performances just shine a spotlight on how manufactured it is. This is one of the main problems of the record, in my opinion. It feels like they're handed stuff and told what to sing/how to sing as opposed to being involved in the process. With a sprinkling of Middle Eastern sounds, Bed Rest is a delightful change of pace that retains the overall vibe of the record but expands it. Amidst the thundering claps and warm bassline, there's some really solid vocals (none are Whitney Houston, but they get the job done) and a memorably sensual hook. In a genre where the same ideas and sounds have been repeated ad nauseum, it's the occasional track like this that makes sifting through the garbage worth it.

How to Be a Lady lacks any sort of authenticity or personal touches that disprove the notion that the group is nothing but producer's puppets; they may have the look to be a star, but they lack any sort of humanness and vulnerability to where you root for them. With their exaggerated persona and one track mind lyricism, it seems like they try to be the archetypal bad girls who drink, have sex, curse, and there's nothing you can do about it. Alas, it comes off very stiff and as if that's the only thing they have to offer: shock value. Once you get over the novelty of a foul-mouthed group of sexpots, you realize that the album just isn't that great. The production may be pretty stellar and make a good portion of the album listenable when it wouldn't have been otherwise, but my suggestion is to find an instrumental version of the album and block out all memory of the vapid foursome. So good? Well, not quite.

A Little More Discipline and This Could Have Been a Lot Better

Watching the Video Music Awards in September with one of my best friends was atrocious. No, not because of my friend; the only reason we watched in the first place was to make fun of the show and how it had deteriorated since its peak in the 1990s. We laughed at the outrageous outfits, gasped at the (few) unexpected moments, and had an entertaining night overall. The atrocious part was the show itself. Long, dull, and glorifying a lot of what is wrong with the industry today, the VMAs put another checkmark on the mental list of why I've strayed from some aspects of pop culture in recent years. Gone are the days of innovative videos being honored, humorous hosts, and water cooler moments that'll have you talking for days (well, aside from Kanye). Oh, childhood, how I miss you.

However, there was one highlight that made the night worthwhile. I first heard about the return of Janet Jackson a few days before the ceremony, which was the whole reason for watching the show in the first place. Only a couple of months after the death of her brother Michael, Jackson's presence was a mystery. What would she sing? Would she even sing? How would she look? Would she be able to hold it together for the whole number? Needless to say, I was impressed with what I saw. The fiery, passionate Janet Jackson that had dominated the charts for years was back, commanding the stage like she hadn't in years.

However, the return of the performer doesn't necessarily mean the material hasn't always been there. On 2008's Discipline, Janet Jackson has moments of pure bliss that stack up well against even her best material of the decade. Rock With U sparkles with a brisk bassline and twinkling effects; aided by Jackson's self-assured coos, its sleekness and club-ready pulse make it one of the more refreshing things she's done in years. Retro but still with enough edge to not feel dated, its Janet Jackson doing what she does best: getting you up and moving your feet. 2nite takes a bit of an opposite approach than the previous song; while Rock is a very finesse-oriented track, this is more in your face and aggressive, hints of Jackson's S&M-centric lyrics peeking through the taunting challenge. It hits a bit harder and is as "atmospheric" as a modern dance song can be. Luv feels like a middle point between the previous two; while stylish and coy, it has a good natured groove to it that Jackson's in-the-pocket vocal only accentuates. It's not the most dance-heavy song of the bunch (it's very relaxed and controlled), but it's tricked out with some interesting production elements and would be the "feel good" song on the record.

Rollercoaster juxtaposes a lilting hook and rapidfire verses to good results, a sort of modern urban disco with a sturdy bump. Jackson's delivery is comfortable and at ease; she's one of the best performers at delivering double entendres and not having them sound corny. There's something about her whispery delivery that makes it sound just icy cool. Though producer Rodney Jerkins hops on the track for irritating ad libs (once you notice them, they're hard to tune out), it's a track that flows well with the rest of the record. So Much Betta packs a bit of a sleazier punch with its stripper-friendly grind and confident lyrics. With some random effects that take a bit to get used to, it tries just a little too hard, but Jackson's penchant for delivering raunchy lyrics and still remain likeable is unmatched by just about anybody. It pops, preens, and poses with a noticeable fire. Featuring the only guest appearance on the record, The 1 should have been better than it ended up being. While the jangly production and stuttering hook are refreshing changes of direction, it doesn't gel quite as well as it could have. With help from former collaborator Missy Elliott in the form of an expectedly colorful verse, it lacks the sharpness of Son of a Gun (their past output) and just kind of treads water. A little more editing could have had this as an album highlight, as it stands out from the rest of the record, but it's a bit too unpolished for its own good.

Janet may not have a Mariah Carey type voice, but she's always made interesting ballads. Her hushed vocals would simply tremble on breathy slow jams and she had her own niche, so to speak. However, the ballads on Discipline are underwhelming, to say the least. Never Letchu Go and Greatest X sound nearly identical, except for a slight tweak in production and tempo. The latter is the better of the two, a more streamlined, modern take on the devotional ballad. Her voice sounds a bit thin, but it's more effective in portraying the emotion required for the song, a weary reflection that has a silver lining. With light snaps, whimsical piano, and a pleasantly sighing climax, it's not the worst thing in the world; it's just forgettable. The prior strikes me as more cheesy and overbearing, the keyboards sounding cheap and the guitar unnecessary and dated. Her vocal is a bit more lively and expressive, making the bland hook slightly better but not saving it from the abyss of alright ballads. Can't B Good, well, isn't. The light tropical shuffle and mundane vocal just don't even qualify as album filler; it sounds like something that would be more at home on the cutting room floor. There's no personality, no life, no edge; a Janet Jackson ballad always has something to make you pay attention, whether it be an electric vocal, memorable lyric, or interesting sound. This has none of the three, as the vocal is sleep, the lyric has been done before, and the sound attempts to make her sound younger (but only dates her).

The recent resurgence of Janet Jackson has been a pleasant thing to watch unfold; in my opinion, she's the best dancer out there today and one of the best dancers of her generation. While the Super Bowl can be attributed to her lack of success, the material she's released since then has been (for the most part) less than inspiring, which hasn't helped matters much. Discipline may be uneven and still obnoxiously loaded with interludes, but it has moments of brilliance, feeling like a natural progression for the 40-something entertainer. With a little more focus on the sound of the record, cohesion with who she chooses to work with, and toning down of her more explicit lyrics (what was once breathlessly erotic is now stale), 2010 could be the year of a full fledged comeback. Regardless of whether she does or not, she's still releasing quality material, so as long as she stays true to herself, I'll be luv-ing every minute of her career from here on out.

This She Wolf May Have a Few Fleas But It's Not Too Bad

Shakira confuses me. There, I said it. While I've been a fan of the gorgeous Colombian hip shaker since the day she first exploded onto the American music scene, there are still many moments when I'm often scratching my head or wondering how I'm going to defend the latest..."interesting" thing she does. In her personal life, Shakira is a fine woman, a philanthropist in a stable relationship who seems to always remember where she came from. She's a stylish, confident, compassionate person who, at least artistically, I can't make heads or tails of. I don't know if it's an intensely creative mind or an overbearing record executive, but it seems that she can't seem to stay in one musical lane for very long before bolting to the next sound.

Released last month, She Wolf is no exception, as the success of Hips Don't Lie seems to have shifted the blonde bombshell's focus away from pop/rock and more toward urban/dance. She Wolf is absurd in all the right ways; a romping disco empowerment anthem complete with howls and strutting production, the title track is confident, bizarre, and infinitely infectious. Shakira spouts lyrics about coffee machines, the fire department, and lycanthropy (the most impressive of all, honestly) with effortless sensuality, a mix of feminine energy and aggressive positivity. Spy shows that Shakira and Wyclef Jean need to make a full record together; after the monumental success of Hips Don't Lie, I expected more input from the former Fugee, but what they came up with is lovely. Deeply entrenched in glossy 80s dance music, this is very slick and creatively done. With Shakira's trumpet impression and a glistening bassline, you can't help but keep listening to this light hearted jam. Did It Again feels like some of Shakira's more rock-tinged material in terms of lyrics and vocal delivery; it just feels like the production was switched to make it more dance-oriented. The track isn't the best on the record, but it's certainly not the worst. Hints of marching band percussion and even accordion (or something vaguely similar) keep it interesting, while the rapidfire verses and wailing hook are enough to make it a pretty decent listen.

Good Stuff has shades of La Tortura to it, though not quite as carnal and animalistic. Rather, Stuff keeps the sensuality and exotic rhythms while adding in some pop friendly production and the occasional xylophone riff. It's not as explosive or dynamic as some of the rest of the material on She Wolf but its quite solid and a complex addition to an already multi-dimensional catalog. Gypsy sounds exactly like you think it does, the type of exotic shimmy that sounds comfortable with Shakira's free spirited vocals. The metaphor is a little mixed, but it has some nice imagery and seems to have some personal touches to go along with everything. The muffled percussion and intricate strings are warm and welcoming, while the weathered lyrics have such a beautiful spirit to them. Long Time has an unassuming shuffle to it that causes it to fade into the background instead of popping. The song tends to drag, vocally redundant in places and spiced up by some semi-energetic verses. While having a sound seemingly made for Shakira's distinctive dance abilities, the hook never really goes anywhere and the song fades without making a true impression.

Everybody needs a really good vindictive break-up song and Mon Amour plays that role for the She Wolf album. Commenting everything on smelly rooms, broken toilets, and still wanting to be the mother of his child, this has some heavy rock tinges to it, sunny electric guitars and sassy claps. It keeps the record sounding like a mishmash of everything she's done, this pulsing kiss-off containing one of the more creative couplets I've heard in a while concerning the Eiffel Tower. Shakira flourishes in pop/rock and this song shows no different. Why Wait is a little all over the place, but the pounding bassline and delightful sashay are enough to keep coming back. Throw in some flashes of older Shakira material (there are moments that remind me of Ojos Asi) and lyrics equal parts devilish bad girl and typical confusing Shakira (Why wait for later?/I'm not a waiter) to get a stirring romp on the Nelly Furtado sound-a-like wagon. Men in This Town doesn't feel like a Shakira song; sounding like a distant cousin of something on Katy Perry's debut album, its fuzzy 80s production and wailing hook are a mismatch for Shakira's vocals (oddly, she sounds like Ashlee Simpson here). Add in the random rap verse from the blonde bombshell (yeah, seriously) and it's just a total mindf*ck. The lyrics are quirky but don't have the effortless battiness that normally comes with one of "those" Shakira tracks; it feels a bit forced.

I lean more toward saying this record is the result of intrusive third parties, especially since a bland Timbaland/Lil Wayne collaboration was tacked onto the U.S. release (deluxe edition) ahead of its release. Granted, the lead single didn't have a terrible amount of staying power, but to play the Lil Wayne card shows that the confidence in Shakira is minimal at best. She Wolf may not make any best of 2009 lists, but it has something that a lot of other records in its ilk lack: it's interesting. It may be for all the wrong reasons, but She Wolf is never boring and actually has some strong moments jammed in there. I still think Shakira's artistry can be pushed and expanded, but this record has enough positive moments to warrant a repeat spin or two.

D.N.A.: Drastically Neutral Apathy? No?

Mario is one of those singers that I have a love-hate relationship with. Coming onto the scene in the early part of the decade with fresh cornrows and a corny song that leaned heavily on Biz Markie's Just a Friend, it was easy to write the then-15 year old as a novelty and someone who would be gone within a year or two, only to be brought up on the occasional one hit wonder retrospective. However, album two brought some polish to the young performer, showing signs of maturity and yielding his first number one song. Marred by delays and record label scuffles, his third album was quite under the radar and marked Mario Barrett's first big step toward being a more "urban" singer. It was a very mixed record that carried his first parental advisory sticker, something that would normally indicate desperation to be seen as "edgy" and a willingness to shift "growing up" into turbo.

Starlight is a pleasant surprise. Eschewing the common traps of male r&b (either trying to go too "hard" or coming off as a sleazy playboy), it's a dancefloor filler, shellacked with some glittering 80s production and a heck of a thump. It has such exuberance about it, the youthful bounce keeping the song infectious and just different enough to catch your ear. First single Break Up took a minute to grow on me. Featuring an unnecessary Gucci Mane appearance (redundant, right?) and a surprisingly effective Sean Garrett, it's a supremely confident track brimming with swagger. The melody is more complex than it lets on, twisting and turning before eventually smoothing out and playing to Mario's strengths. It feels like a "grown up" track without losing the playfulness that the young Baltimore native does so well. Get Out has some nice brooding production that gives its vicious stomp a little more umph. It's on the "heavier" side of the spectrum, stadium-ready claps and full bodied synths housing one of my favorite vocals on the record. Complex and claustrophobic, the track will boom from your speakers and make you look at the burgeoning artist with new eyes.

One of the several ballads on the record, Stranded rises to the top as a personal favorite, surprisingly classy and introspective. A testament to the end of a relationship and being knocked off balance by the breaking of bonds, its subtlety works as a definite positive, as the simple strings-and-bassline groove from producer Eric Hudson will be an earworm. Mario's vulnerability and willingness to go against the grain is refreshing, making the track even better. Soon to be third single Ooh Baby has a little more body to it than the previous track, but it doesn't mean its better. While there's a quicker sonic impact, the lyricism is a bit of a retread on the playboy image that so many of the men in r&b try to pass off as genuine. The vocal is quite nice (a usual compliment for the very capable artist), though the connection between it and the lyrics leave a lot to be desired. You don't expect someone to take us to church on a girl-you're-so-fine-let's-have-sex-in-every-room-of-the-house type of number, but it just sounds a little too stale to be fully enjoyable. In short, it's pleasant but nothing you'll be raving about. I Miss My Friend has new age tinges to it, a kind of misty calm that fits the self-contained vocal beautifully. The pitter patter bassline keeps it from being a snoozer, adding just enough tempo keep it in line with the rest of the record. These are the type of tracks that can separate Mario from a crowded genre; anyone can make a slow jam, but it takes someone truly talented to make creative choices and old themes seem new.

Melodramatic The Hardest Moment may have a nice melody, but it's a little too blusterous. If it had been packed in a little bit, there would have been more power; this doesn't seem like a genuine moment of artistic clarity. It's more like the "we need a big ballad, come up with something emotional" moment of disappointment. From the lyrics that are very extreme to the near tears vocal, it's just overdone. If it had been done as an a cappella, for example, the quality would have vastly improved. Decidedly pop/rock, I Choose You doesn't quite fit the vibe of the rest of the record. The cheesiness in the melody and affected vocal are hard to wrap your ears around, so to speak, as it doesn't feel like a Mario song. The production gets in the way, smothering the airy hook and making the song almost schizophrenic in nature. There's the acoustic guitar singer-songwriter vibe on top with the "modern" synths underneath; not a good look. Current single Thinkin' About You is the epitome of what's wrong with the record; there's not a thing wrong it, except that it passes from one ear and out the other without a second thought to it. It takes several listen in order to really get a grip on the song, as the hook is too finesse to really stick and the production is nothing new. As usual, Mario's in command of his vocal, a limber, slightly romantic coo that sends some serious positive vibes. But overall? Eh.

I like Mario. I really do. He can sing, he seems like a nice guy, and he's well put together. However, he seems to be missing a certain thing: personality. His career has not really gained as much traction as it should because you just don't feel like you know anything about him through his music; in his field, introspection and disclosure aren't the name of the game, but when playing this record, there's nothing that makes it distinctive from the other million r&b records to be released this year. Aside from a few moments that are catchy and creative, there's nothing on D.N.A. to sink your teeth into. It all may sound pretty and be overall inoffensive, but how much of this will you remember in a day? A week? Unless Mario shows us more of what's inside his DNA, I have a feeling his days of being in the spotlight are numbered.

The Only Elevata Robin Thicke is on is Goin' Down...Way...Way Down...

If your career was on the line, would you change who you are? We've all seen those movies based on the music industry that show the wily veteran artist being forced to succumb to trends and record label pressure in order to maximize their bottom line. They may not be at the end of their career, necessarily, but someone thinks they're drying up and they have a water bottle ready to douse them back to life. What would you rather do: sell a fair amount of albums, have a hit single now and then, and have the respect of your peers or sell less albums while gunning for a spot on your local radio playlist?

One listen to Robin Thicke's fourth studio album and you can tell quite quickly the direction he was heading. While Thicke has yet to deliver an album up to par with his immense ability, every one of his releases has been strong and relatively consistent. Despite the industry leaning more on successful singles versus pushing an album, the 20-something crooner joined those in the world of "adult r&b" who don't need a huge single in order to remain relevant. Through his touring efforts and the quality of his releases, he's maintained a steady fanbase, one that may have first taken notice from Lost Without U (thus far the biggest hit of Robin's career) but kept their attention on him in successive years.

However, all this doesn't stop the record from being an obvious push for radio. Robin Thicke wants to hear himself on the radio, darn it, and he's more than willing to go through his extensive list of contacts in order to make sure that happens. Guest stars are the name of the game on Sex Therapy, appearing in over half the tracks on the standard edition. It's not to say that this is much of a surprise; though his records are usually guest limited, Thicke has strong ties to the hip hop world, a favorite hook man for your favorite emcee. The talent assembled is actually fairly decent; the tracks that come from the collaborative efforts, though, sadly are not.

Sex Therapy is a bit of a dichotomy for me. On one hand, it's the same type of steamy bedroom anthem that you've come to expect from Robin, so it exemplifies a lot of the positives of his music. There's tons of lilting falsetto and a bevy of carnal come-ons, all delivered pretty effortless. On the other hand, this Polow da Don production sounds like a Promise (Ciara) re-write, the same type of slow grinding production and romantic atmosphere permeating both hits. On paper, Diamonds sounds like it is going to be this schlocky, manipulative attempt at being an "inspirational" listen (I mean, this is dedicated to all the mamas), but it turns out to be good natured, motivational, and uses the metaphor quite well. Game's presence on the track adds a lot to the track, as the soft retro bounce makes his surprisingly vulnerable verse that much more effective. Wedding ready 2 Luv Birds may be a little cliché but asserts itself as one of the best listens on the album quite quickly. Softly sighing, it has such a lush feel to it, though there's just a piano accompanying Thicke. With promises of lifetime love and the description of a journey, it reins itself in before becoming too grandiose, Thicke's vocals coaxing some sincerity where necessary. Its not the most complicated listen in the world, but its unfetteredness (that's not a word but go with me) is ultimately to its benefit.

And then it all came crashing down. Shakin' It 4 Daddy is god awful. Featuring Young Money's plastic princess Nicki Minaj, it attempts to be the "club banger" of the set, complete with redundant laser-like synths and faux gangsta posteuring from Thicke. The production gets old fast, a weird techno-ish mishmash of sounds that does not belong on a Robin Thicke record. Minaj reinforces the sad state of female hip hop when this is the artist generating the most buzz; everything from her rhymes to her delivery to her presence on the track is recycled and stale. Meiple (aka "Me I Play") features some ridiculous effects in the background (cooing and moaning?) that put the icing on this steaming pile of mess cake. Thicke's affected delivery reminds of the commercials for the McCafe and the song just feels like a joke drawn out for too long and another chance for Robin Thicke's playboy persona to become that much more exaggerated. Materialistic, goofy, and (most sadly) boring, this can't be saved by the blah Jay-Z verse toward the middle. Another misstep, It's in the Mornin' should have been much better than what it turned out to be. The production is actually verse nice, a velvet-y romancer with snaps and soft back-up vocals. Lyrically, though, it's a complete WTF moment; an ode to morning sex, it joins Meiple as a song that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Snoop's presence is complimented by the production, so much so that you start thinking it would be better as a Snoop song. Thicke's falsetto (a tool of his but one he goes to too often) is ineffective and limp, spouting lines about putting cream in your coffee with a weird amount of seriousness. If you're going to have Snoop and sing about morning sex, loosen up.

Jus Right isn't bad, per se; it's just way too similar to Lost Without U to be taken seriously. I understand wanting to recreate such lightning-in-a-bottle success and perhaps it's a signature sound. But from the gentle acoustic guitar strums to the quiet storm percussion, it just feels lazy and uninspired. Ironically, its one of the better lyrical songs on the album; refreshingly uncluttered and sensually romantic, you get a more human Thicke, something that is seriously lacking on the album. Sadly, it's all wasted on a big ol' retread. Make U Love Me has definite tinges of Wanna Love You Girl in it. With the minimalist production and the mumbling delivery, it sounds more like the sonic cousin to it than identical, though neither song is that great. It's a hit or miss song for me; some lyrics are well done, others are a little tacky or come off as ill-fitting. The song picks up a little toward the end with a promising section, but it settles back into the rut it had been in. With a very bland melody and unengaging delivery, it's yet another miss. Million Dolla Baby actually has a lot going for it, with one major exception. You have Jazmine Sullivan, one of the more interesting new artists in music, and she's relegated to singing back-up vocals on the hook; when I first saw the tracklisting for this album, I was excited to hear two of my favorite voices intertwining and exchanging verses. To continually be waiting for the explosive Sullivan's textured voice to start a verse and ultimately be disappointed lessened the experience of the track. It meanders toward the end, but the bluesy, sorrowful tint to the song is ultimately a positive, suiting both voices and an interesting background to this tale of trouble.

In all honesty, Sex Therapy is one of my least favorite records of the year. It pains me to admit that because Robin Thicke is an artist who could do so much with himself and for him to come up with this mess is sad. Adding a few more guests is understandable; trying to make yourself a bit more accessible doesn't sound like a bad idea; becoming a parody of yourself is a whole other ballgame. A Robin Thicke record thrives on smoothness and charm, both of which are severely lacking here. He can have a clunky line here and there but the delivery and persona always makes up for it and then some. This record alternates between being a goofy caricature and being a bland snoozefest. There's no subtlety, no class, and nothing terribly artistic about what can only be described as someone buying into their own hype. Robin Thicke doesn't need sex therapy; he needs a musical intervention.

You Definitely Won't Be Loving Jay Sean's New Album for Eternity...Maybe a Listen or Two...

Image is everything. It seems that to succeed you need to put on the impression that you know what you're doing and then everything just kind of falls into place. You may not be that great at what you do, in all actuality, but if other people think you're great, that's all just a moot point. To borrow a phrase from the movie Field of Dreams, "if you build it, they will come". If you build yourself up, the positive returns will come.

Having successfully conquered his native England for the past several years, Kamaljit Singh Jhooti (better known as Jay Sean) has set his sights on achieving the same type of glory across the pond. Already topping the charts with his lead single and seemingly gearing up for another long run at the top of the charts with the follow-up, the latest Cash Money Records signee (bling bling, y'all) continues the influx of British artists making considerable noise in the music industry the past few years.

Unfortunately, the quality of All or Nothing, his third studio album, pales in comparison to records from his countrymen. What could have been an interesting look at culture and style (Sean is of Punjab descent) is simply a paint-by-numbers contemporary r&b album that is as generic as it is faceless. One can almost go down a list of the current clichés that have infiltrated the genre and see that a vast majority make their presence well known. War attempts to be the stirring ballad of the album, only to be derailed by the tired metaphor and Sean's ill-fitting vocal. The melody is one of the more vibrant, flexible ones found on the record. It's vulnerable and executed well; too bad the same can't be said for the rest of the song. Using war as a theme for a relationship, it just feels like we've heard this before and done much better. Fire (as in "she's fire") is a little laidback for my tastes. There's disconnect between the lyrics and production that I just can't place my finger on. With how the song is written, it doesn't sound natural as a breezy, faux-romantic midtempo; the emotion is a little forced and this Sean Kingston-ish track just falls flat. Do You is actually an interesting sound. A swirl of claps, stomps, and grinding synths, it's the right kind of ambiance for Sean to sound comfortable and in control. Couple that with some lover man lyricism and there's a glimpse at what he can do when everything's working around him. Admittedly, the hook is goofy (do you like the way I'm doin' you?) and there's some autotune usage, but overall, fairly solid.

Number one hit Down is one of those undeniably catchy songs that latches onto your brain and never lets go, hence its success. Featuring a short, unobtrusive verse from labelmate Lil Wayne, it's a simple, shiny love song, a wall of choppy strings, autotune, and big hooks. It's sweet and inoffensive, though the Candlelight Remix gives the song some new textures. I usually despise tacked on remixes, as they tend to be filler and usually only consist of a thrown on rapper or the same vocals over a slightly tweaked beat. However, this remix is an intriguing piano ballad, a warmly sincere rendition of a song that I didn't expect to find emotion in. Sean proves that he has a nice voice underneath all the production and offers a glimpse of the artist he can be. Ride It has some of the best production on the album, steamy and exotic without all the gimmicks. Since every element is working quite well (Sean's vocals are confident and suave, the vibe of the song is extremely sexy), the occasional clunky lyric is certainly passable, the song quickly becoming a delightful piece of ear candy. It's effortless in presentation and modern without pandering to the young folks. In short, it's very good. Stay sounds like a more sanitized Ride It; in a way, Stay is the second part to the song, an emotional plea for eased tension and second chances. It has that same strings-and-thump atmosphere that other tracks have utilized on the record, only a little more polished and "presentable". With some Dream-esque "eh eh eh" vocals in the catchy hook and a nice ebb & flow, it's a solid listen.

Love Like This (Eternity) isn't nearly interesting enough to overcome the retread lyrics (giving you my last name, they say we moved too fast, I'll keep it true), weak verses leading into an elementary hook. Sean does his best Chris Brown impression, sounding nearly identical to the controversial singer in places. Even when compared to the rest of the record, this is the epitome of generic; take a little bit from each song and you have Love Like This. If it were given a twist or something distinguishable, it would be more listenable or a more respectable decision, but the one word to describe this would have to be blah. If I Ain't Got You has a sprightly bounce to it, choppy keys and a more diverse performance from Sean keeping this from going the way that so much of the record goes. Though a little stunted, it has enough elements to it to keep you tuned in, as it even incorporates a lullaby toward the end. That part's a little cheesy but it fits the melody and keeps things lively. The record is full of the expected, so if it takes lullaby lyrics to wake you up, then so be it. Stuck in the Middle features, of all people, Jared Cotter, former American Idol contestant and current Fuse VJ. The UK edition of the album has Craig David on the track, so we definitely got the shorter end of the stick in terms of collaborations. However, Cotter makes a good go at it on this "he could never love you like me" track, actually sounding better than I remember from his days on Idol. With his Brian McKnight-ish voice, he injects some nice diversity and energy, though the song didn't really need to be a duet. It would have been more interesting to do a duet along the lines of The Boy is Mine and pit the two more aggressively against one another, as opposed to them being more vocally isolated, but it's enjoyable nonetheless.

Blessed with a fairly pleasant voice, astonishing good looks, and a somewhat competent machine behind him, it's no wonder that Jay Sean is positioning himself as a radio favorite. Couple a Black Friday release with the absence of any male r&b singer to challenge him (Justin Timberlake is acting; Usher lost a lot of relevance since the release of his last album; Chris Brown's career is still reeling; Ne-Yo is between albums; Mario's album is already forgotten; Trey Songz doesn't have a lot of crossover success) and two strong singles and you can imagine that Sean's visibility will only continue to rise as the new year comes. While possessing a fair amount of good moments, the cliché-ridden lyrics and very standard production ultimately drag it down to the point where it's simply not worth your time or money. Jay Sean has potential and, with a little more artistic freedom, could make a strong record one day. Unfortunately, that day is not today.

Unexpected? More Like Unnecessary

You know a trend has evaporated once your mom, dad, aunts, or anyone else in your family starts picking up on it. It may sound cruel or somewhat elitist but if something becomes so pervasive that it trickles down to those who you wouldn't expect, it may be time to come up with the next big thing. Trends are cyclical and seeing your Auntie discuss autotune is a mess waiting to happen.

I heard rumblings that Angie Stone's new album would have a few changes to it from her usual formula. I was alright with it; Stone, r&b's requisite Auntie, has worked hard over her career and all artists deserve a chance to try new things. She hinted at trying to be a little too "down" on 2005's Stone Love, but you could make a case that it was a one time thing and she was just trying to expand on the success of her last album Mahogany Soul. After returning to her "signature sound" with The Art of Love & War, what transpires in Unexpected was indeed that: unexpected.

Hey Mr. DJ actually isn't as bad as the name implies. Laidback and cool, it has a pleasant groove to it that could have been made into an extremely strong track that bridged the gap between Angie's past and the current musical climate. It's extremely catchy, but is so undercooked. You don't know if it's an interlude or an actual track (at 2:42, it's in that weird gray area), so its winding down before it even begins. Tell Me is a train wreck in every aspect. Angie's attempt at cashing in on the fading autotune trend, it tries way too hard and gets in its own way from the opening seconds. A little dark in the production aspect (its very contemporary r&b and not in a good way), it sounds very disjointed with the shrill ad libs and limp hook. There's a guest verse that puts the icing on this tasteless cake; I don't expect Angie Stone (or any artist of her ilk) to make the same record for the duration of their career. But I expect them to stay true to themselves and not try to be something they're not. I Don't Care finds Angie Stone breezily dismissing all the haters in her life. Um, Angie Stone has haters? Really? Quoting Maya Angelou in the swaying hook, it just doesn't have any juice to it. While Stone's peer Jill Scott's hater anthem was just as random, it at least was sonically interesting; it was blistering, personal, and a new direction for the usually even-keeled songstress. This just screams meh. What could have been a very good natured anthem of living life for yourself is a lazy exercise in making an anthem for the people that ends up helping no one.

Not all is bad on the record, though. Maybe is very pretty throwback soul and the type of ambience that Angie does well. Romantic and powerful, the vocal is just "in the pocket", a gentle reminder of how Stone can be one of the elite artists in her field if she wanted to be. The slow build of this warm ballad is ultra satisfying, the piano-kissed climax a sweet sigh on an otherwise lackluster effort. Kiss All Over Your Body may not be the best slow jam that Stone is capable of producing, but it's a quite solid addition to her catalog. If there's anything that Angie is capable of doing, it's the comfortable romantic jam, this song being no exception. While the spoken ad libs are a bit unnecessary, this is sensual and mature, an embracing mixtape-ready anthem for the one you love that has a nice sweet center to it. Why Is It goes along with Maybe in terms of the uncertain relationship anthem representation on the record. While it's not in the same league as that track, it's no slouch. Whereas Maybe was very straightforward and raw, Why is more frilly and produced, a glistening, slightly girly listen that is quite relatable. The back-up vocals are honestly the star of the show; Angie sounds very nice, of course, but the back-up just accents her performance that much more and takes the hook from good to great. There's not a lot of new ground covered here but it's a nice piece of ear candy.

Free is derailed a bit by the production, which deems putting techno-y synths underneath a feel good anthem to be a good thing. Hm. It seems like a bit of an identity crisis (a theme of the record, no less), almost. They couldn't decide if this should be Modern Angie or Old School Angie, so instead of being concrete, they just split the difference and included both elements. Vocally and lyrically, it's actually one of the better listens on the record, a stirring track of independence and breaking relationship chains. However, the stale production is a definite no. I Found a Keeper may have a few lyrical bumps (you can't spell complete without me?) but it's a harmless ode to the one who finally came along. With light gospel vibes, it's an interesting direction to hear the record go, as it's a little all over the place. It may pass by a little suddenly and not make its presence felt when listening to everything as a whole, but its decent enough and doesn't warrant the utter disgust of prior tracks. I Ain't Hearin' U is something that is carried by Angie's personality. Very sassy and playful, this may not be the most artistic track ever, but it's a perky little uptempo that provides appreciated energy to the record. A tale of not wanting to believe gossip, it could have very easily gone into eye roll territory. Combine the spunky back-up vocals, friendly vocal, and vaguely modern production, though, and you have a nice way to lead off the album.

Aunt Angie didn't exactly make an electronica album full of Bjork-esque vocals and suicidal lyrics; a lot of the material here could easily slide into her past albums without much problem. The problem is that it's just not consistent nor is it timeless in the way her past material has been. Less than half the record warrants repeat spins and only a couple of those approach the auditory impact of No More Rain or Wish I Didn't Miss You. While seemingly going for the easy hit instead of the strong album, Stone remains a very capable vocalist and possesses one of the warmest voices in r&b. Too bad she's always trying to keep up with the kids.

Who Needs Therapy? Just Buy an India.Arie Album

Admittedly, I'm a bit of a negative person. I don't intentionally set out to get down on myself when the slightest thing goes wrong or have inappropriate thoughts whenever I'm feeling at the depths of my sadness. It just happens. However, I've become better able to handle it, as experience and growth have shown me that being proactive and aware of how my body and mind feel can be the best medicine for a bad day. Though I still have my days of being the Pessimistic Polly that my loved ones have grown to know and love, I can handle myself with a bit more grace and dignity.

One way in which I manage my emotions is through music, obviously. Tending to select more soothing and mellow tones, India.Arie is an artist that I tend to gravitate to, to mixed results. On one hand, her music is extremely uplifting and light, a positive message engrained in even the most downbeat of songs. So many of her songs will put a smile on your face and send you back to a place of warmth, fun, and life. However, there are times when she takes herself a bit too seriously and sends you frustratingly to the Land of Candy Canes and Lollipops. This is a land jam packed with condescending Bible quotes, vanilla mantras, and assessments that we're all unappreciative heathens. It's not a fun place to be, though. Trust me.

After wading through the sea of interludes, a characteristic that has become common on an India.Arie album, there are 12 songs to digest, most of which tend to lean more on the political side than the love side of the album's theme. Better Way is a little bit of a looser composition from the usually reserved Arie; she has had her moments of letting her hair down, but on this proud bluesy call to change direction, she's natural and exudes a lot of personality. With comments on Hurricane Katrina and how it was handled by the Bush administration, this sassy stomper may not be for the more conservative r&b fans. Regardless, its thumping claps and nicely textured electric guitars are a compliment to Arie's vocals and make for an intriguing direction. Less divisive in tone, Ghetto lets you know that we may not be as different as we thought, as, to paraphrase, every place has a ghetto. Sounding closer to Arie's "trademark" fusion of enchanting acoustics and flexible melodies, this song avoids the potential pitfalls that could have turned it into a schlocky piece of one love nonsense. Instead, it's very sure of itself and admirably intelligent, weaving experiences in several countries together to show that we're one world. Psalms 23 gets bitten by the self-righteous bug that Arie's music has been infamous for; while the verse from the always entertaining MC Lyte was a pleasant surprise and the whimsical production makes the somewhat square lyricism sound more hip than it actually is, it's a little too preachy to be fully enjoyable. I don't have anything against religious music or mentions of God in music, but Psalms is too strained.

Though Arie's "statement songs" often get her more ink than her relationship songs, Long Goodbye shows where her bread and butter truly is. The emotion is palpable in every element; her vocal is tender and subtle, an intuitive reading of the down-to-earth lyrics that results in one of the most triumphant sections I've ever heard her voice in. The whole "sweeping ballad" thing is very hit or miss, but combine the delicious vocal layering, slow build, and lonesome piano and there's no denying the song's power. A Beautiful Day, co-written by Robin Roberts (yes, THAT Robin Roberts), may be a little on the cliché side, but its genuineness and sunny delivery keep it in good graces. It sounds very theme song-ish in its grandiosity and bounciness, though the platitudes it dispenses aren't always fortune cookie-ish. Through all the pretense and self-importance, India has very solid nuggets of content in her music, so songs like these that challenge the listener to make it a positively beautiful day and open up their heart are much welcome. This isn't the exactly complicated and nuanced soul music, but its heart is in the right place. Any song you can listen to that never fails to put a smile on your face is a definite keeper, no matter how cheesy it is. He Heals Me has such purity and calm to it. One of Arie's biggest strengths is how warm and embracing her music can be; an India.Arie album is the musical equivalent of a plate of soul food. It just nourishes you and comforts you whenever you're feeling down, something that songs like these best exemplify. With slight orchestral leanings, it has an air of sophistication about it, something the strolling piano and simple back-up vocals only accentuate. It's just a soft, vulnerable love song and y'know, that's alright.

For those who are looking for a little bit of pace, Therapy is about the closest we get, though it still has that same homegrown sense of peace that seems to find itself in a majority of India.Arie songs. With a much appreciated strut and a fairly decent metaphor, it kicks the album off nicely, a sea of stuttering back-up vocals and choppy guitars. Based purely on structure, it's one of the more "challenging" listens on the record, only in the sense that there seems to be more elements to have to sort through in order to make heads or tails of the song. However, once you do, it's solid. Grammy nominated Chocolate High joins together two "adult r&b" superstars with Arie and Philadelphia native Musiq Soulchild to solid results. It's exactly what you expect if you're familiar with the music of both artists. Though a bit understated and plain, it's mature and collected, the interpretive skills of both vocalists turning very average lyrics into something flirty, romantic, and sincere. The harmonies are better than expected, as the song is just an effortless exercise in how to create a breezy little midtempo. River Rise is just pretty, no other way around it. It has what Psalms 23 lacks; concerning a crisis of faith, it's very self-contained and personal, choosing not to speak in generalities and pretentious advice. With some of the most full-bodied and affecting singing of Arie's career, it's thoughtful, insightful, and touching, something that showcases different shades of her vocals and a more raw look into her psyche. With so many "lesson" songs, it's hard to really get to know India.Arie, but there's something about this aching ballad that feels ripped from a journal.

India.Arie may not be the most exciting musician out there today but at the very least, you can say that the woman is consistent and knows exactly what works for her. You'll find the standard slightly overstuffed album of intricate guitar work, thoughtful lyricism, and earthy vocals that permeate each of Arie's studio albums. Those albums may vary greatly in quality (Acoustic Soul was genius; Voyage to India was rushed and undercooked), but what makes India.Arie the artist that she is remains her self-awareness and attention to detail. While this may occasionally creep into thinking that she's more important than she actually is, it often times leads to gentle, soulful musings about life, love, and the meaning of.

I've Solved the Mystery: It Was John Legend With the Evolver in My Headphones

Change sucks. I'll be the first to admit that, in my personal life, change is something that I try not to allow. Well, at least without fair warning and enough time to plan for the impact it'll have. It's hard, it's scary, and it's something that time may not get you accustomed to. But change can be necessary sometimes. When you're stuck in a rut or not getting the results that you want, maybe the time has come to fiddle with your formula and see what happens. That's exactly what r&b crooner John Legend did in 2008. After two very successful albums and a reputation as a sophisticated balladeer, he decided to switch things up and allow more creative room to breathe. And breathe he did.

Despite the album's overall theme of evolution and experimentation, Legend still has a fair share of stirring piano ballads, what could be considered his sonic bread and butter. This Time just aches from his vocal; it has such a bittersweet tone to it, a kind of regretful exasperation that sounds quite cathartic. It's more of a ballad-with-a-twist, as there's subtle synth work underneath the very mournful piano and orchestral strings. There's so much heart to Legend's music and this song is no exception, as emotion is something that he can convey with a lot of ease. If You're Out There took on a whole new meaning with the election of Barack Obama, as the timing of Legend's album release and the 2008 Presidential Election was quite uncanny. As opposed to being strictly political, it speaks in more general terms, i.e. taking personal responsibility for how our world is, fighting for peace, etc. Usually I'm not that big on political music from someone who doesn't generally make that type of music, but Legend has created a triumphant, Gandhi-quoting call-to-arms that speaks softly but speaks strongly. Produced by past collaborator will.i.am, Cross the Line is a track that often gets lost in the shuffle for me. It's not that the track is bad; it's just that it doesn't stand out and fades into the background. With a limp hook and stale production, it's just not showing John in his best light. The vocals are strong, as expected, and all the elements of a solid listen are in place, but things don't quite gel. It holds up better as an individual listen versus an album listen, but this is one time where the nice guy (song) gets left behind in favor of the bad boy.

Harkening back to Get Lifted, there's no shortage of guest appearances and for the most part, they're quite effective. However, It's Over features the weak link in a very unnecessary and lazy verse from Kanye West. It was disappointing, to say the least. While I'm not the biggest Kanye fan, his guest appearances are generally solid (the ones I've heard, at least), so to hear his (auto-toned to the point of T-Pain) verse here is strange. The production, however, makes up for it, especially the dazzling hook and the underused horns. Perhaps my favorite song on the record, Quickly is a very simple little ditty about falling in love that gets better with each listen. Accompanied by Brandy (as always, in fine voice), this is all about chemistry and boy do they have it in spades. The harmonizing is intricate and genuine on this head nodder; though a little lyrically cliché at points, it still manages to capture what makes both vocalists so strong. Reggae-leaning No Other Love is more like what I was expecting when I heard the album was going to be a change of direction for John. Featuring a radiant vocal from label mate and one of my favorite celeb-twitterers Estelle, its mellow groove is infectious. This just feels like a natural extension of Legend's sound; it's nothing that comes as too much of a shock. As with the other tracks that differ from his sound, John Legend will always be John Legend, so there's a piece of him that stays no matter how the window dressing changes. If this is any indication of what they can do together when given the chance, I can only hope that on their next records, both will take advantage of burgeoning music chemistry.

Honestly, the first time I heard Green Light, I wasn't a fan. It may have just been the shock of hearing John Legend on a glittering dance track but I was immediately turned off. However, by the end of the second listen, best believe I was singing along and moving around in my seat. This is such a summery feel good track; Andre 3000's verse is loose and adds personality to this shimmying lothario come-on. Through all the synth work and saucy claps, Legend stays true to himself; I could hear this done exactly the same way lyrically/vocally in another format quite easily. Satisfaction has a nice little attitude to it. Of the tracks on the record, it's probably the grittiest, both in terms of production and lyrical content. There's always a kernel of "nice guy" in his music, but this finds him letting his hair down a bit, so to speak. Though John has always had one foot in hip hop when constructing his records, this is easily the most hip hop he's went since his debut, just in terms of overall feel for the track. Good Morning returns us to nice guy John Legend; the guy in Satisfaction wants to throw you to the ground and have his way with you, but this charming fella in Good Morning would be the one to cuddle with you afterward and talk about his feelings. There's such a peace to the track; leaning heavily on retro influences, its calmness and placidity could be construed as being boring, which has some truth to it. While its romantic platitudes and airy chorus are serene and effortless, it's not a track to listen to every time, at least for me. It feels more like a leftover from his last album, which had the same type of mature/stuffy atmosphere to it.

While this album may not be entirely left field for Legend, it offers a slice of what he can do. Not everything works 100% but I appreciate the attempts at expanding his sound and avoid being pigeon holed for the rest of his career. This album occurs at the right point in his career because any shift in sound later could turn off long time fans. Time will only tell how much of this experiment stuck with him, but John is a talented vocalist, empathic writer, and someone to look out for in the future. Change may suck but evolution? That's a-okay with me.

Crossing Melanie Fiona's Bridge One Step at a Time

When you base your debut single on a well-known sample, something must be up. It has to, right? Why would someone willingly want to have their creativity and originality questioned and have themselves written off as a fluke? What good can a big initial hit be when your career is dead in the water even before your album gets released? What is more important - the artistry or the dollar signs?

All of these are valid questions to be asked of a new artist who does this and boy, did Melanie Fiona shut my jaded self up with her debut album The Bridge. After months of delays that would squash the hopes of even the most ardent fan, the SRC album made its way into stores in early November, hot on the heels of It Kills Me, a song that is shaping up to be Fiona's true breakthrough.. But just how far does the Guyanese-descended Fiona's bridge stretch in the course of these 12 tracks?

Building off a sample of The Zombies' "Time of the Season", first single Give it to Me Right immediately struck me with how unique it was. Crafting a very empowering anthem over something as recognizable as "Time" was a risky choice, but Fiona's dexterous vocals erase any doubt of artistic fraud upon first listen. She's self-assured, suave, and downright sexy, eschewing the typical female r&b clichés quite nicely. Current single It Kills Me is r&b melodrama done very right; featuring one of the most heart stopping verse/chorus transitions that I've heard in a long time, it's a behemoth of a ballad. With ghostly back-up vocals, plodding bassline, and tense strings, you get the sense that this is something epic. Fiona delivers her best performance on the album, the kind of eye-shutting power and earthshaking soul that a song with this structure demands to feel authentic. On the other end of the sonic spectrum is haunting album closer Teach Him, a demure mostly guitar ballad that feels like the calm after the storm of the prior track. Previously heard in the Beyonce film Obsessed, it feels very reflective, nearly pensive in nature. The overtones of the track are extremely sad and lonesome. This will be the grower on the album; it may not seem like much with its mild hook and simple frame, but with each listen, more complexities and depth are revealed.

Ay Yo goes along with Give it to Me Right with the whole empowerment message, almost reading like an autobiographical message to all those who may have doubted the young Canadian earlier in her career. However, this isn't a self-centered kiss off like the type her peers may have conjured up. It's a more general you-can-do-it anthem with a total sunny disposition. With intriguing reggae tinges, it makes for a glimpse at the range hiding behind those big brown eyes; Fiona finds the "pocket" of the song quite easily, infusing the little ditty with some light hearted playfulness and a whole lot of confidence. It has a noticeable sway to it, one of those songs that you bob your head to without even realizing it. Sad Songs is the song for the pessimist and the bleeding heart in all of us. While on the surface it may seem very light, breezy, and carefree, one listen to the very emotional lyrics reveal otherwise. Proclaiming sad songs to be the best songs, an obviously broken hearted Fiona swoons and sighs, composed yet seemingly on a breaking point. You Stop My Heart feels like a melting pot of the album's sound. You get the dramatic hook of It Kills Me, the open vulnerability of Teach Him, the sway of Ay Yo, and the heart of Sad Songs. However, it's not derivative or unoriginal. It may occasionally fade into the background when digesting the record as a whole, but when looking at it on its own, the track's merits shine through. The longing, the passion, and the maturity are all live and in effect. She has flair for the dramatics that is obviously still a work in progress. Melanie Fiona may not take you to church Mary J Blige-style but she has her own voice and point-of-view which comes out loud and clear in songs like this.

One thing the album doesn't lack is energy. Bang Bang is a blast of quirky, good natured retro-soul, something that would feel very inauthentic and wooden in other vocalists' hands. Fiona infuses the slightly campy lyrics with a brassy swagger and infectious glow that make this the repeat song on the album. The cutesy ad libs and delicious hook are certainly enough to make this a prime candidate for your workout mix. Johnny opens with a very solid modern foundation (dj scratches, thundering bassline) that evolves into something more along the lines of a hybrid between modern and retro. The subject matter is sad when you look at the lyrics, but you wouldn't know it as this is an extremely vibrant chunk of sing-a-long soul that shimmies and gyrates with reckless abandon. You'll be singing along before the end of the first listen and trust me, it gets better from there. Walk on By has slight gospel vibes to it, though the subject matter isn't what you'll be hearing on Sunday morning. This declaration of revenge doesn't necessarily have the bite that you would expect it to have, but that doesn't mean it's not a solid track. Quite the contrary - the clap-a-long hook, warm organ, and slick guitars make it a full bodied listen, one that may not be the most groundbreaking but offers a fresh perspective nonetheless. The key to the song isn't about being vindictive or hateful; like all of Melanie's music, it's just about being self-assured and knowing your own strength.

The first time I ever saw Melanie Fiona was on a YouTube video from a performance she did in England of Kanye West's Heartless. On tour with West at the time, it was sensuous, fresh, and vibrant, Fiona's booming vocals and noticeable personality standing out and immediately making me interested in what she was going to do next. Following her singles and subsequent mixtape collaboration with Questlove of the Roots, I was hooked and this album just feeds the addiction. If you want a sharp, colorful, passionate, well-constructed r&b album with tons of heart, you may have found your album. Fiona is impressive in every aspect. Even more impressive? She can do better. Much better. Although I'm content with wearing grooves into my copy for a few years, I have to say that seeing where we cross the bridge to next is extremely exciting. Take us away, Melanie.