Album Review.
Likes: Add Me In, Autumn Leaves, Drunk Texting, Fine China
Dislikes: Loyal, Came to Do, Drown In it, Love More, Body Shots
Overall: Musically strong, but his intent to be throwback is stifled by terrible, new school lyrics

After multiple delays, business conflicts and personal legal obstructions, Chris Brown’s X has arrived. It’s definitely 1 of those albums where you ask yourself if you should more heavily praise the artist for their attempt or criticize them for their failure to fully and properly execute their intended objective. With homage to and features from R&B’s last great era and spot on, thirst-quenching incarnations of Michael Jackson, it’s apparent that Brown desired to go *Christina Aguilera voice* back to basics, but it’s like he couldn’t help but smell of the death that is current R&B. Rebounding from the superficially trendy musical production of the previous Fortune album, X’s techno, R&B and southern hip-hop fusions have more integrity, especially with the reduced prominence of traditional euro-pop patterns and use of auto-tune. Although his boyish tone still dominates, Brown shows there might be 1 or 2 more colors to his voice. On “Don’t Be Gone Too Long” with Ariana Grande, for example, he almost sounds like a different person (Grande is also unrecognizable). Some of the album’s finer moments are the Jackson-typed “Add Me In” and “Fine China.” Many modern artists claim to have been influenced by the King of Pop, but few actually incorporate the inspiration into their music. I appreciate Brown’s audacity to go there and his ability to nail the Jackson magnetism, charisma and technique that’s so needed in today’s popular music.

Where Brown misses his “go in the R&B vault” target is in the lyrics. As a result of hip-hop’s influence on contemporary R&B, seduction is a lost art. The love songs, which are already without ardor, are juxtaposed with degradation and disrespect (ex. “These hoes ain’t loyal”). “Came to Do” has lines about getting a woman under the influence so she’ll be more susceptible to accepting the dick he’s offering, but Brown declares it’s “for all the ladies.” I didn’t hear anything for me in that song. If life was a Broadway play, “Came to Do” would be the song performed when that annoying drunk guy slides up to you at the bar and calls himself spitting game, saying very inappropriate things while grabbing his penis and bragging about its girth. It made me think of the “Whispering Playa” interlude on TLC’s Fanmail album. Even “Add” has a tacky twist, speaking of hooking up in the back of the club. Tracks like “Loyal” and “Came to Do” set the tone for the sexual songs, which have no craft, thought or charm with ridiculously literal descriptions, pumped with arrogant testosterone. As for the throwbackN’B features, following the lyrical tribute to R.Kelly’s debut Songs on 12 Play (a duet with Brown contemporary Trey Songz), is an appearance from Kelly on “Drown in It,” which implements the most exhausted sexual analogy in music. If I hear another song comparing my vagina to a body of water, I’m going to lose it. The amount of Kelly in the air (including that Songz claims him as an influence) begs the question if hip-hop was the only suspect in the murder of R&B. Most would more closely tie Brown’s musical lineage to Usher (also a student of MJ), but his bid on “New Flame” does nothing to keep the track from being a dud. “Do Better” with Brandy did better at catching my attention, but hearing the trailblazer (I hate when people ignore or downplay her achievements) use the N-word and swear is more new school than I’d prefer.

So, again, I wondered if I should give Chris Brown an “E” for effort or a letter grade actually used in American education. Having enough cognizance to A) realize we need to go back to basics, B) channel Michael Jackson and C) put Usher and Brandy on same album are all good things; lots of points for that. However, those points can be deducted if you don’t quite go back to basics. Lyrics that are prosaic, sexually cheap, require a parental advisory label and are *Dr. Phil voice* offensive to my sensibilities as a woman negated any nod to the past he made. In the words of Brandy, “Almost Doesn’t Count.” 

Rock & Rant-When I need to quickly rant about music.

In November 2012, I did a “Rock&Rant” marking my observation that the genre of R&B as we knew it had fallen into a dangerous, uninspired extinction ozone, merely hinting at potential causes. I left the article open because I wanted to hear everyone else’s thoughts, but after reading “Why Has R&B Become So Misogynistic?”  by Vibe’s Michael Arceneaux and listening to the R&B farce that was Trey Songz’s  new album, Trigga (see my review here), I’m ready to name the culprit: hip-hop. Hip-hop music (inadvertently) killed R&B.

In the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, hip-hop was establishing itself as the pop music of America and began to leave its mark with other genres. Even country music had to get a taste (ex. Trace Adkins “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk”). Once hip-hop emerged (originating in the 1980’s), it wasn’t long before R&B was synonymous with it, mainly because of color-coding and racism. In spite of this, R&B long maintained its own distinction, but on the way to Oz, it got lost. Other genres that trendily attached hip-hop sustained their genesis and foundation, but mainstream R&B eventually allowed theirs to nearly collapse. These days, you almost can’t tell the difference between an R&B and hip-hop hit: every other song has a rap verse and, increasingly, the harder-driven rhythms, abrasive language and content, misogyny and incensed detachment often heard in hip-hop are becoming common threads in R&B; a genre once characterized by seductively smooth, bluesy and soulful sensuality. The shift I’m describing is lucidly exemplified on the aforementioned Trey Songz record. By the end of it, I yelled “This is not R&B!!” The definitive “I love you more than life itself,” “haven’t been able to sleep since you left” and “close the door and let’s revel in our passion” statements were replaced with  “These hoes going to do what they want…F*** them all the time, but you know I never wife them…I swear these hoes trifling (that’s not an affronting double standard at all),” “If you ain’t the type of b**** talking about relationships, hit me up on that late night s***,” “All we do is f***, drink and sleep” and violent sexual analogies. I thought R&B was supposed to be enticing. I thought R&B was the home of baby-makers, begging pleas, broken moments and wedding playlist jams.

R&B has died and its fan support is wavering because it has isolated its audience and forfeited its personality, charm and quality and become a watered down sub-genus of hip-hop. It’s unrecognizable. It doesn’t know what it is anymore. How can you speak when you have no voice? Some might argue that like any other genre, R&B has various stylistic periods and this is just another phase. The concerning difference, however, is that this phase has too much likeness to an already existing base. Strip it down and the only thing that makes it R&B is that it’s sung. As a fan, it bothers (and surprises) me that I can’t get through even a Kelly Rowland album without hearing multiple expletives, and it’s not even from a featured rapper! Charting top 5 songs have f*** right in the chorus. The sexual representations are tacky, impulsive and lack craft and wit. Sex is now a means to an individually hedonistic end. Further signifying the identity crisis is that even the modern break-offs are fairly bereft of R&B. The burgeoning “Alternative R&B” (AKA PBR&B and Futuristic R&B; ex. Frank Ocean) has thoughtful and tender lyrics, but no musical traits of “rhythm and blues,” and computerized and electronic effects. It’s arguably only branded as R&B because the artists are predominately black, which goes back to color-coding.

Don’t get me wrong, hip-hop has its value and I’m all for genre-mixing: it brings communities together and exposes people to styles they may not have listened to before. This outcome is most likely to occur though when there’s a balance and each side stays true to its defining basis. These “Hoes Ain’t Loyal.”

Single and Video Review.
Obviously channeling an artist that came before you can either be viewed as an awesome homage with a fresh twist that shows what you’re capable of or as something that should’ve never happened. For Chris Brown, cultivating Michael Jackson musically, vocally and choreographically is the only thing that makes sense and it’s what we’ve been waiting for. In terms of dance, the MJ influence has always been present, but not as much as it is now musically and ‘tis tasty. His 1st single from the approaching 2013 album “X,” “Fine China,” sounds like it’s fresh off the MJ production line, being a sleek groove that’s somewhat theatrical and a merger between live instrumentation and the mechanical. The lyrics are decent, although I think there’s a better analogy for a woman’s matchlessness than fine china. The video, which you can view below, follows a Romeo & Juliet story we’ve seen before, but I still found myself glued to the computer screen wondering what was going to happen and enjoying the choreography. What are your thoughts? Is it like “Fine China?”

Album review.
Likes: Don’t Judge Me, 4 Years Old
Overall: Mostly a shallow album with little substance

As an artist, Chris Brown refuses to grow up or develop and it’s just frustrating. “Fortune” is definitely a follow up to “F.A.M.E.,” as it has almost the same amount of ordinary production and pointless lyrics. Whether it’s a pop or a hip-hop/R&B track, it’s all musically predictable and over-simplified. Synths, abused auto-tune and techno backdrop for the pop songs, repetitive drum patterns for the hip-hop/R&B. Brown is still unconvincing as a proficient rapper on “Bassline” and “Till I Die.” Lyrically, it’s more of the same cocky, immature, locker-room male bravado (I’ve had to use “locker-room” a lot lately to describe male R&B, sadly) and more expletives than I would care to hear within Brown’s genre. On the latter half of the album is a string of slower-tempo sexual songs that are supposed to be arousing, but they fail to stimulate as they’re annoyingly uncreative. Tracks like “2012” and “Biggest Fan” use the typical “I’m gonna go deep, make your knees weak, you’re gonna shake and scream and I’ll compare your bodily lubrication to rain or something damp in nature” formula. “Sweet Love” channels Trey Songz, a Brown contemporary. “Don’t Judge Me” and “Stuck on Stupid” are relieving with more interesting lyrics and a pleasant melody. 3 years away from his first decade in music with 5 albums, I expect some more sophistication and a few timeless tracks. An album sampler is below.