BRITNEY CHANNELS HER TEEN POP PAST ON ‘3’

A platinum-blond Britney in her "3" music video

Britney Spears’ “3” is a feverish piece of electro-pop that is reminiscent of Britney’s virginal pop glory days despite its sexual innuendos. It’s the perfect pop song that sounds more in line with the Britney of ten years ago.

Swedish producer Max Martin provides “3” with a midtempo beat full of skittering synths that’s indistinguishable from any of the electro-pop songs on the radio ranging from Ke$ha to Adam Lambert, but the songwriting is “3”’s saving grace. Swedish songwriter/instrumentalist Shellback (man responsible for those catchy hooks on Britney’s “If U Seek Amy” and Pink’s “So What”) makes lyrical and melodic magic for Britney. Despite not having a muscular chorus that is usually synonymous with Max Martin and Shellback, “3” makes up for it by having a muscular melody.

Since its radio release in September “3” has been marketed as a controversial song about having threesomes and living sinfully, but ultimately “3” is a playful piece of glossy pop that possesses an effervescence closer to Britney’s teen pop past. She may sing rebellious lyrics like, “are you in, living in sin is the new thing,” but her vocal delivery of those lyrics is so peppy and cheerleader-like that the risqué lyrics have no weight. Sure, Britney used to be a Mouseketeer and she’s always sounded a bit Disney, but her last two albums, Circus and Blackout were surprisingly dark and mysterious. The albums sounded like a woman who’s had her share of partying hard and smoking cigarettes, but on “3” Britney sounds chirpy again. On the b-section (which really is a chorus/hook masquerading as a b-section) Britney moves in out of her head, middle and chest voices while singing “are you in, living in sin is the new thing” with a hopefulness on the words “new thing.” Britney even uses 1960s folk groups as sexual euphemisms citing “Peter, Paul & Mary” as a creative way of saying “a threesome.”

Despite its slightly pedestrian beat “3” has a starry-eyed bridge that serves as a period for people to slow their pace of rapid-fire dancing and catch their breath. The twinkling synths and fist-pumping bass are rave-like inspiring a vision of people waving glow sticks in the shadows of a club, and a DJ working the ones and twos. The marching bass winds “3” back up to its elementary chorus full of counting. There’s a sense of power-pop urgency about Britney’s pitched vocal delivery and as is “What we do is innocent” lyric, which sounds like a mantra for a generation or an era; maybe an era past like Britney’s glorious teen pop past back when the Backstreet Boys and ‘N Sync ruled the planet.

Maybe “3” is a sign that Britney’s music will take a brighter, more “innocent” direction. A change of pace might be just what Britney’s music needs.

RIHANNA TEMPERS HER ANGER WITH A MILITANT THEME ON ‘RATED R’

After singer Chris Brown reenacted scenes from the film, Fight Club on his former girlfriend singer Rihanna’s pretty face earlier this year, it’s no surprise that Rihanna is no longer in the mood to sing trancey dance songs with Michael Jackson chanting in the background. Instead of trying to make people dance, with her new album Rated R Rihanna has recorded cold, metallic songs full of military references and quiet anger.

Most of Rated R’s songs bring to mind images of Rihanna singing the songs while riding in an army tank. The industrial production inspires this image of Rihanna as a soldier of war. The album’s most militant songs are its best songs because they suggest an evolution for Rihanna’s music, while the remaining songs are from her poppy past and sound as if they were left over from 2007’s Good Girl Gone Bad.

On Rated R’s best songs Rihanna establishes her new hardened musical persona sounding something like a gangster. She is at her most thuggish on “Hard,” in which she inspires listeners to simultaneously think of apocalyptic warfare and fashion runway shows. With lines like “they think they test me now/run through your town, I shut it down” and “and my runway never looked so clear/got the hottest bitch in heels right here,” it’s easy to see that Rihanna still has an ego after admitting in a Diane Sawyer interview that she was “embarrassed” to have fallen for a guy like Chris Brown. “Hard’s” scowling bass line, which guides the main hook “so hard, so hard” sounds like the victorious bass line from The Jackson’s 1984 hit, “Can You Feel It.” That bass line and the Thriller homage, the introductory “Mad House” are the extent of The Gloved One’s influence on Rated R. On “Wait Your Turn” Rihanna wastes no time sparking the wartime imagery stating in the first two lines, “I pitch with a grenade/swing away if you’re feelin’ brave.” It’s one of Rated R’s angrier songs where Rihanna’s rage boils a bit over the surface and the listener can hear the clenched teeth in her voice. Musically, “Wait Your Turn” sounds like a Star Wars theme anchored by videogame synths. And last and least is the anemic first single, “Russian Roulette” that sounds like music fit for a funeral. Ne-Yo wrote the song, but he writes his best material for Rihanna when Danish production duo Stargate is at the helm, which they are not on "Roulette." The beat of “Roulette” matches the warfare motif of “Wait Your Turn” and “Hard” to a lesser degree, but it’s still one of Rated R’s weakest songs even next to the pop-lite songs like “Rude Boy.”

Rated R’s worth rests on two statuesque songs written by talented songwriter James Fauntleroy (the man who wrote Jordin Sparks’ airborne hit, “No Air”). The songs are “G4L” (Gangsta 4 Life) and “Fire Bomb.” Both are songs that broadly address Rihanna’s incident with Chris Brown by way of her muted anger to the point that you can picture Rihanna’s heavily eye-lined eyes glaring. She spits with venom on “G4L” “I lick the gun/when I’m done/’cuz revenge is sweet” and you sense that Rihanna is definitely capable of going all Red Sonja on someone’s butt. She tries a couple flows and cadences Bone Thugs-N-Harmony-style across a sinister synth beat reminiscent of a track by electro-thrash duo Crystal Castles. “Fire Bomb” is Rihanna’s own swelling rock opera that is a ball of tempered anger. The song’s main bass line is a guitar loop that resembles a steady-flowing machine gun. The guitar chords have a crashing pace that add sound to Rihanna’s lyrics, “Where I’m going I don’t need my brakes/Can’t wait to see your face/when your front windows break/and I come crashing through” during the b-section that’s sandwiched between the verses. The b-section is the car set in motion and the chorus is the crash, the explosion. The static of Rihanna’s voice is ghostly and the buildup is ethereal. The references to needing masks to breath relate back to Rated R’s military theme.

Rated R is an album that is not Rihanna’s best ever album because none of her albums are her best, but it is certainly her most vocally strong. Her anger finally seems like it has depth. Her past albums have the dance-pop songs that made Rihanna a superstar, so they will always have their value, but Rated R represents something new for Rihanna artistically though it may not be commercially successful.

Britney Gets Slowed Down by Syrupy Euphoria on "3' Remix

Many songs are less than the sum of their parts, and Britney Spears’ latest single, “3” falls into this category, but it is by no means a bad thing because the parts are so sweet to the ear. It’s like eating a glossy, syrupy peach cobbler, but hating the crust. The original version of “3” with all of its arid synths and Lil’ Jon tendencies was nothing without the euphoric bridge that slow grinds its way into the mix. According to most of the people who have heard “3,” the bridge is the best part of the song. Taking that main ingredient of “3” and making it the sole beat for a “Slow Remix” is like taking the syrupy sweet peaches out of a peach cobbler and eating it by itself.

Presumably a fan of Britney is responsible for replacing the shrill synths of the original beat with the 7-note guitar loop that used to be the original’s bridge and the result is a thing of beauty. The beauty of the bridge was intensified on the original when heard in contrast to the aggressiveness of the rest of the original beat. Since the bridge has a larger presence on this remix, its trance vibe is even stronger bringing to mind glow-sticks lighting up a dark club full of horny, tipsy and/or drunk people. The bridge music conjures up that much beloved feeling of euphoria (usually alcohol-induced). When experiencing this euphoria, a person wants the feeling never to end, and doesn’t want the night to end; it’s a moment in time cherished through memory. People who partied in college know this feeling and people who party and go clubbing know this feeling too. This “Slow Remix” of “3” is a dance record, but it’s by no means a “club banger” because its purpose is not to get people energetic, but it’s more of song to dance to after you’re already intoxicated. It’s a song to listen to while basking in the blissful moment of intoxication when it feels like nothing bad can ever happen. This is the purpose of the “Slow Remix” of “3” and it is why I never get tired of listening to it; it inspires and exudes happiness.

Britney’s vocals are processed, but they reach a level of smoothness that fits the lushness of this “Slow Remix” perfectly. “3” is a set of melodic parts that work as a team, ironically a team of three, or maybe not ironically. The strength in melody can be credited to the song’s Swedish songwriters, Max Martin (the man responsible for “Baby One More Time”) and Shellback (wrote Britney’s controversial “If U Seek Amy”). The three parts are the chorus, the b-section and the bridge. The verses are good, but not nearly as melodic and catchy as the other parts. There are a few lyrics on “3” that makes one scratch their head because they seem so left-field. Most critics have said that “3” is a return to Britney’s bubblegum roots and is surprisingly wholesome, despite the whole threesome thing. However, on the b-section, Britney croons, “Are you in/living in sin is the new thing,” which seems like it would offend people—people have expected that it would since they have censored the word “sin” on some radio stations and in the “3” music video—but the whole “living in sin” thing is just another way of saying “I’m not that innocent,” which was Britney’s mantra when she debuted on the music scene in 1999. The fact that songwriter/producer Max Martin was involved with “3” makes sense of the reference to innocence since the song is a slight departure from Britney’s grimier (if that word can even be associated with Britney) songs on Blackout and some of her Circus album. “3” is sort of a blast from Britney’s past. Britney has always been a walking condition where she’ll perform a striptease on stage, but immediately after she will seem almost embarrassed by the striptease. It’s like Britney knows that the image she’s built for herself over the last ten years has been what people expect from her, so she stays true to that image in an almost workman-like manner. When Britney sings on the bridge on “3” that, “What we do is innocent/just for fun and nothing meant/if you don’t like the company/let’s just do it you and me,” she’s contradicting herself. She’s saying that if threesomes offend people then she wants to make sure they know that she also likes the more traditional one-on-one sexual encounter, and that she’s not really that much of a sex freak. Britney’s conflciting image of wholesome and devilish is her trademark, and it truly has become uniquely hers. The original version of “3” is the more sinful side of Britney and the “Slow Remix” of “3” is the angelic side, and ultimately the best and truest side.

The-Dream Touches Rihanna's "Hard" Single With His Oddball Magic

One of the many outstanding characteristics of Rihanna’s latest single, “Hard” is that The-Dream’s songwriting is the star of the show and acts as the thread that keeps the song sewn together. The brilliance of “Hard” proves once again that songwriters really are the unsung heroes of pop music.

The-Dream (born Terius Nash)—he wrote the No. 1 hits, “Umbrella” for Rihanna and “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)” for Beyonce—uses every centimeter and inch of Christopher “Tricky” Stewart’s unremarkable instrumental to fit in an abundance of hooks. The-Dream’s ability to create multiple hooks that support a big chorus has become his trademark. The “I’m so hard, so hard…yeah-yeah-yeah…” is immediately recognizable as a hook. Technically, there really is no chorus on “Hard,” but instead a barrage of hooks. The rest of the hooks are scattered around the song; for instance, the “and while you’re gettin’ your cry on/I’m gettin’ my fly on” line is only uttered once, yet it stays in the ear for a while. In contrast, the “I see you aimin’ at my pedestal/I better let you know” line is used twice, once at the end of the first verse and once at the end of the second verse, yet the “cry on/fly on” line is a bit more catchy, despite only sung once. The minimal repetition of the “pedestal” line is the sole conventional part of The-Dream’s songwriting on “Hard.” There also are no b-sections, no real bridge and no ad-libs. The-Dream just doesn’t follow the traditional verse-chorus-verse-bridge-chorus song structure.

Lyrically, “Hard” is a bragfest for Rihanna that acts to further affirm her as a fashion icon. She talks about having “all black on” and “black tall shades” and a “black tall Maybach.” We already knew Rihanna was a baller, and she has no problem reminding us. Rihanna even makes references to the song that changed her career, “Umbrella” when she sings one of the more subtly catchy hooks on “Hard”: “That Rihanna rain just won’t let up.”

Christopher “Tricky” Stewart’s overall sparse instrumental—which consists of a few tinkling piano keys, bass and a sinister groan that sounds sort of like a horn, but it sounds more like the product of a keyboard—would be a mediocre beat that sounds suspiciously similar to one of Young Jeezy’s past hits (who happens to spit 16 bars on “Hard”) without The-Dream’s oddball songwriting. Because of the beat’s sparseness, The-Dream is forced to create his own melody.

The official first single from Rihanna’s forthcoming album, Rated R is the Ne-Yo-penned “Russian Roulette,” but thankfully that dreary mess of a ballad slithered off and had a quiet death with little to no radio airplay, while Rihanna’s “second” single, “Hard” (the real first single) has had steady airplay, especially on R&B/hip-hop radio. I predict that audiences will respond well to “Hard” and its inventiveness. Plus, people don’t want to hear Rihanna’s sob songs, they instead want her to make them dance, which “Hard” certainly does.

Disembodied Soulfulness is What Has Made Songwriter James Fauntleroy Such a Gift

James Fauntleroy wearing those mad scientist glasses.

Link of James mixing it up in the studio: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-x0BxAufH28

Ever wonder why Jordin Sparks sounded so elemental on “No Air” and why Chris Brown sounded so heroic on “Superhuman”? The answer is simple: James Fauntleroy. He’s the songwriter who makes anything he touches ethereal, as well as ghostly. The guy can write any kind of music, from R&B to Country. There's a lot about James Fauntleroy that suggests the purity and earnestness of a child. He has the cheeks of a baby and the smile of a Cheshire cat. He sings in a floating, otherworldly tenor, which contributes to his angelic charm. James writes songs of love like many songwriters, but he writes lyrics that transcend hackneyed song composition.

I always knew singer-songwriter James Fauntleroy was eclectic and could write any style of music to any beat, (he wrote a song called “Torn Down” for Brandy’s album, Human that has a subtle country vibe to it) yet still maintain his unique style, but it wasn’t until I heard his song, “Overhead” produced by hit country music songwriter/producer Luke Laird (the man behind Carrie Underwood’s “So Small”) that I knew James style was evolving. It’s no coincidence that most R&B singers and country singers come from religious Christian backgrounds based in the Southern states of America. With that said, God is a constant fixture of both R&B and Country and the presence of God gives each genre of music an organic quality, even if many of today’s R&B and country artists use a sizable dosage of reverb and studio effects on their vocals, the organic part might be only applicable to the ethos of the music. The music of Contemporary Country artists like Carrie Underwood is more pop-oriented in the way that Underwood’s vocals are slick, polished and melismatic, which makes her sound more like the Whitney Houstons and Mariah Careys. The more traditional idea of country music was that it was minimal, at times hokey and off-key. Country music producer/songwriter Luke Laird produced the sweeping midtempo, “Overhead” surprisingly sung by “No Air” songwriter James Fauntleroy. Fauntleroy primarily writes songs for R&B and pop artists—he wrote Jordin Sparks’ “No Air” and songs for Britney Spears, Brandy and Chris Brown—but now for the first time he’s worked with a country producer on a song that is recognizably country. The wobbly strings that sound like fiddle strings give “Overhead” a country vibe. Listening to “Overhead,” it’s assumed “overhead” refers to the almighty one above God who’s looking down on the world he created. During the bridge, James sings, “We try to find it in a backseat” (pickup trucks for all the country music lovers in cowboy boots and hats), “fast car on a long-end street/Put my hand to the ground/listen for the sound of a heartbeat…I found it in a blue sky.” Those lyrics are referencing nature and how people try to find God's presence within nature, as well as in human contact. The God theme of “Overhead” makes it a gospel song of sorts. The theme of nature and God also keeps in line with James’ overall musical style that is influenced heavily by the elements of the world.

James’ unique style consists of a use of dissonance existing in James’ often off-kilter singing and unconventional melodies. James’ off-kilter singing (not to be confused with off-key) is the product of dissonance. Dissonance consists of different melodies that are abrasive to each other if not timed correctly, but if timed perfectly, the different melodies will find a tonal common ground or connect at a harmonious chord. James’ voice moves with each chord of a song whether the chord goes up or down, so he’s fully aware of what chords to hit with his voice; this is the reason his voice stays in sync with the beat of a song.

Regardless of musical genre, most singers perform ad-libs, which James does very well. It’s not surprising that James is able to twist vocals in new directions since one of his main influences is R&B singer Brandy; like James, Brandy also uses dissonance in her singing and creates vocal arrangements together to form a richly textured composition. Ad-libs are arranged usually during choruses to add variation to the chorus melodies that tend to be repetitive without the addition of ad-libs. Choruses are meant to be repetitive for the purpose of sticking in listener’s heads, but songwriters create ad-libs that are of a different melody than the chorus to accomplish a sense of harmony. Just as in a four-part harmony where there are soprano, alto, tenor and baritone/bass parts, dissonant melodies combine together to form a harmony that is greater than the sum of its parts. Julie Andrews explained all of this very well when she taught the Van Trapp children “do re mi” in the film, The Sound of Music.

Even though most of James’ vocals have a bit of reverb effect applied to them, even without the reverb, James’ vocals would sound dissonant. Reverb is a recording studio effect that adds some elasticity and resonance to a vocal, which sometimes makes the voice float and echo. It’s a combination of the dissonance and the reverb that makes James’ voice sound disembodied, which then makes James’ voice sound atmospheric. The atmospheric quality of James’ vocals and lyrics defines James’ songs. The definition of nature is everything that exists on the earth except humans, which includes animals, water, air, oxygen and trees. The fact that James’ voice sounds disembodied fits perfectly with the idea of his voice being something that does not belong to a human, but instead to Mother Nature. James’ voice is not something that has a flesh-and-blood face, but something that floats through the atmosphere with the birds and buzzing around with the bees and hummingbirds. This atmospheric style is what makes James sound truly soulful simply because he sounds like what a soul is supposed to be: a collection of feelings, thoughts and actions that can never die.

The biggest hit song that James has written so far is Jordin Sparks’ “No Air,” which soars through the atmosphere flying above the windswept beaches and shining oceans like a good James Fauntleroy song should. When listening to “No Air,” one does get the feeling that they’re submerged underwater gasping for air (with all those huge ad-libs full of big, blasting high notes, anyone would be gasping for air, maybe that was the intention to stay true to the song’s title). It’s not until the bridge—which acts as a sort of resting period, even though Jordin and her duet partner Chris Brown are still singing during it—that Jordin and Chris seem to rise up from the water, and with all the new air they have to breathe, they can sing their lungs out. James’ demo of “No Air” is just as elemental as Jordin’s version, but with the ghostly, Enya-like quality of his vocals James’ version sounds more tranquil. James doesn’t have the bombastic Mariah Carey notes that Jordin has, but that’s what makes James’ demo original, like himself. Chris Brown has worked with James numerous times, including two of Brown’s singles, “Superhuman” and “Take You Down.” Again, “Superhuman” has listeners envisioning skies and people flying across the skies looking down at the world because a superhero like Superman flies with his red cape blowing in the wind. On “Superhuman,” Brown duets with Keri Hilson who is an accomplished songwriter like James who makes good use of her skillful vibrato.

Since the success of “No Air,” James Fauntleroy’s star has definitely risen. He was nominated for a 2009 Grammy for “No Air.” Recently, James made Britney Spears sound ethereal on “Mannequin” and wrote a song for Ciara and Justin Timberlake to out-dance each other to on “Love, Sex, Magic.” Music is said to be universal transcending race, gender and geography and this belief also goes for the versatile James Fauntleroy. From Youtube to Internet blogs, many people have commented that they often prefer James’ demos over the final recorded version by another artist. This is saying something. With such an elemental style, James could be the shaman who connects the visible world and the invisible spiritual world.

When Cassie Stays Sensual, She’s at Her Best

There are no histrionics at works on Cassie, the debut album from Connecticut singer Cassie, unless you include the hammy sweaty, porno-like synths that are the starsof the show. That’s pretty much the theme of Cassie: grinding synths that drip of sex and conjure up images of the brilliantly trashy porno films from the 1980s. I can just see vintage porn star Vanessa del Rio puckering up now.

When Cassie was first released in 2006, Cassie Ventura was a baby-faced 20-year-old who despite her exotic Filipino-Black beauty exuded an aura of a typical young adult. Looking at her and the way she conducted herself, it could be assumed that she partied with friends, went to the beach in all her bronzed skin-and-sunglasses glory. It was when an unofficial video for “Me & U” showed Cassie in green night vision a la Paris Hilton’s infamous sex tape that the kittenish popular-girl quality started to pour out of Cassie. She was showing signs of maturity, some would say. The official video for “Me & U” ended up being a classier affair where Cassie channeled Janet Jackson more than Paris Hilton. The sexy sound of Cassie foreboded Cassie’s current sexed up, pop tart image.

Cassie is mostly written and produced by 80s aficionado Ryan Leslie who is the reason for the album’s synth-heavy appeal. Leslie treats Cassie as his lite-version of Janet Jackson, except Leslie produces Cassie as if he’s been watching some vintage porn. One of the best ways Leslie showcases his New Wave sound is on Cassie’s debut single, “Me & U.” Although Cassie’s vocal delivery on “Me & U” is calm, measured and devoid of melisma, her delivery is not robotic. Instead, Cassie sings in a fashion that is quite carnal. Cassie’s treble voice is the vocal equivalent of an ice cube melting into liquid on a hot summer day. Her voice is used as an instrument that works in synergy with all of the synths that make up Cassie’s “electro” sound.

Leslie’s synth tapestries are frequently sweeping and they lay the under currents of sex on Cassie. Leslie’s synths build to a climax, but that’s on only a few songs on an album as short as Cassie. There are ten full songs on the album, but only five songs are worth the listen. “Me & U” is the obvious centerpiece of Cassie, but “Miss Your Touch” and “Just One Night” are head nod-inducing midtempos. “Miss Your Touch” is refreshingly concise and resembles a song SWV might sing from the early 1990s, as does “Just One Night.” “Kiss Me” is a ballad that is the best song behind “Me & U” for sheer melodic perfection. The song is breathy, dreamy and arousing. “You don’t have to hold back or be shy/I can tell you want me in your eyes” are some of the lyrics Cassie sings during the chorus on “Kiss Me.” This song has a soulfulness that no other song on Cassie has. “Kiss Me” is so soulful that Cassie actually sings vocal runs such as “It’s intoxicating, I barely can breathe” with urgent desire. Some of the songs give off some New Edition flavor circa 1984, when Bobby Brown was still clean-cut. The song, “About Time” is the song that first planted the New Edition seed in my head that sounds like a typical song coming from a woman not far out of her teenage years.

It’s when Cassie and Ryan Leslie decided to keep it sexy that Cassie picks up steam. Unfortunately, the boring and annoyingly poppy songs bring the album down and interrupt the album’s momentum. Songs like the dragging ballad, “Not With You” and the pop-rap number, “What Do You Want” should never have been added to Cassie; the songs do not fit with the album’s sexual theme.

Current pop-R&B is heavily influenced by rap and hip-hop, but Cassie sounds like music from other eras. The album would fit more comfortably next to albums by Jody Watley and SWV than the Ciaras and the Danity Kanes of the world. Put on your dancing shoes or shed your clothing to the sexy synth music of Cassie.

KERI HILSON BRINGS AN 80S ELEMENT TO HER DEBUT, BUT ALSO BRINGS TO IT HER OWN BRAND OF WARM-BLOODED MUSICALITY

Keri Hilson Brings an 80s Element to Her Debut, Also Brings to it Her Own Brand of Warm-blooded Musicality

by Chris Cole

The power of a woman and the power of her pen could conjure up many images: maybe of a woman writing her own check for payment or as a strong songwriter who writes catchy songs about the human experience. Mosley Music/Interscope artist Keri Hilson is an example of the latter. Hilson is a master of intertwining words and melody. As much as she’s noted for her songwriting prowess, Hilson’s physical beauty is also something duly noted. She’s this tall, fit and slightly curvier woman (than in the past several months) with hazel eyes, who wears a frosted bob and a Cheshire cat smile full of slyness and mystery—Sheila E. circa 1985, anyone? It’s also refreshing that the twenty-something Hilson is a woman who isn’t afraid to wear form-fitting spandex onstage. It’s an ode to the 80s—specifically to the early 80s when pop-R&B music was more warm-blooded, which is pretty much the theme of Hilson’s In A Perfect World.

The 80s was a booming decade of consumerism and the music reflected that consumerist air of the 1980s. The mainstream music of the early 80s hadn’t reached the coldness that overtook much of 80s pop music. The pop music released in the early 80s, such as Michael Jackson’s monster-of-an-album, Thriller (1982) was still full of warm energy that was recognizably human. Jackson’s album had some of the celebratory freeness leftover from the 1970s. As the world moved deeper into the decade of the 80s, Americans became more repressed and slaves to society’s consumerist standards, and most importantly people felt they had to keep up with the Joneses. The temperature of music cooled down into cold drum machines, synthesizers and robot drone-like vocal deliveries. Thankfully, artists like Sheila E, Janet Jackson and even Madonna (more on the pop side of things) brightened up the darkness that was the 80s with girlish sex appeal. On her long-delayed first album, World, Keri Hilson decides to be human and show the sensual side of human nature, but not quite in the Adina Howard “Freak Like Me” way, but in a way that adds flesh and blood to the robot syndrome of current radio.

Hilson’s image is of empowerment like most female R&B singers (yes Beyonce, I’m talking about you), but Hilson displays the same laid-back, yet self-assured personality on Perfect that she shows in interviews, which is nice to see. That’s probably the reason why Hilson has so many fans around the world because she seems like a real person.

Hilson is a commercial/mainstream artist, evident by her choices of radio singles—“Turnin’ Me On,” “Energy” and “Knock You Down” are all easily-digestible singles, although “Turnin’ Me On” does have a raunchy out-of-this-planet quirkiness about it that would make George Clinton proud—her tame hit singles were just used as tools to get consumers to buy her album and discover her album’s meatier songs.

Perfect is a rapturous album mostly because of its ballads and slow jams, whatever you want to call them. Hilson drenches herself in sweet, yet heavy sex on the moaning slow jams, “Slow Dance” and “Make Love,” that are both so sultry that the listener can almost hear the lovemaking taking place. Hilson's superb vibrato technique makes her rich alto shine. On vocal runs, Hilson uses her vibrato to move various notes around like an instrument, which is what her voice is. Vocal runs are constant on Perfect. With the grinding bass lines of “Slow Dance” and “Make Love,” the songs are so genuinely horny that one can almost hear Prince’s primal growls in the background. Even on a sexy ballad like “Make Love” where it would be so easy for Keri Hilson to take the submissive role, she remains the dominant one during lovemaking. Maybe that’s what she means when sings, “tonight we’re going to do something different.” When Hilson sings, “I’m going to wait on you hand and foot like the king you are baby,” it may sound derivative, but it again shows Hilson’s human side. She seems to realize that love is about giving and taking. Hilson doesn’t seem like a gold digger, despite some of the materialistic references on “Get Your Money Up.” Lyrics like, “Now slide, slide, one of them black cards, if you got it then show me how you getting it/diamond’s a girl’s best friend/if you can provide them/I might even act a fool while you hitting it” make Hilson sound like a gold digger, but she counteracts that previous line by singing, “when you see me and my dames/blow a lot of change/at the bar, don’t get jealous, get your money up.” In the end, Hilson makes clear that she has her own money and just wants a man who also makes his money and therefore won’t feel jealous and/or insecure about her money. Sounds fair enough. And as for the “stop, now let me see your booty drop” line, it doesn’t have much to do with the theme of “Get Your Money Up,” but it’s obvious that Hilson made the song with the clubs in mind, and that people would dance to it.

The singer switches the mood of Perfect to introspection and revelation, and the song titles are indicative of this mood. To name a few titles, there’s “Intuition,” “How Does it Feel” and “Alienated.” “Intuition” is Hilson at her harmonic best evidenced by the multilayered vocal run that opens the second verse, which channels Prince. “Intuition” isn’t Prince-like, but that particular part of the song seems like a subtle nod to the Purple One. Hilson sings about being insecure and knowing that her prospective love interest will inevitably “mess up.” That’s how most people feel when on the search for love and companionship.

“How Does it Feel” is a Timbaland-crafted thumper that has pounding bass that will blow speakers out if one is not careful. Hilson gets sassy on a dude when asking her ex if he can be empathetic and imagine himself in her place. Hilson sings the line, “I could take the knuckle route, but I got class,” is obviously an allusion to fist-fighting. This particular lyric is another example of Hilson making clear that she’s a tough cookie. Ms. Hilson also shows signs of her toughness on the album’s slithering intro where she sings, “baby please understand/Can’t have you all up on me, I roll with some killers man/…I see him muggin’ me/she don’t want no problems, I got a little bit of thug in me.”

“Alienated” is the centerpiece of Perfect because it’s this glittery symphony of heavenly synths and 90s drum programming courtesy of baby-faced maestro Cory Bold (formerly of the T.U.G. camp). Hilson admitted to the press that she originally wrote “Alienated” for Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger’s solo album, but label politics prevented Nicole from releasing her version, so Hilson decided to keep “Alienated” for herself, and it’s a good thing she did because it ended up being the glistening sun of Perfect shining its light on the rest of the album.

The warmness of Perfect will heat your body, as well as heat your heart. With all Keri Hilson’s great unreleased songs and demos floating around the Internet, it’s impressive that she was able to compile the perfect mix of songs that would collectively convey a cohesive message. After listening to Perfect in its entirety, the listener can tell from polished song-crafting that Hilson has an extensive background in all the dynamics of the production of music. A debut album that shows craft and experience—now that’s what a debut album should accomplish.

Bajan singer Livvi Franc goes emo!

From the moment those first piano chords cruise in, the melancholy tone of “Sub Zero” is established. The song already has an emo vibe to it based on the first verse, but when the chorus rushes in with its first words “My world’s so cold/I’m hard as stone,” the emotional lamenting goes full-throttle.


When Livvi sings lyrics like, “Another blow and my heart might stop/I’m losing feeling, am I dead or not?” the song sounds like anything Secondhand Serenade would sing or many of the pop-punk/emo hybrid bands. Make no mistake, Livvi Franc is considered an R&B singer from Barbados (much more of a talent than Rihanna folks), and the song’s beat is what keeps “Sub Zero” close to the R&B category. Still, “Sub Zero” is pop with a sensibility that transcends genres and categories.


Atlanta-based producer Oak provided the beat for “Sub Zero” and female songwriter Frankie Storm (Rihann’s “Please Don’t Stop the Music”) wrote the song. Oak has been gradually making a name for himself producing synth-filled electro pop-R&B affairs for Jennifer Lopez, Lloyd and Toni Braxton. Dark, angsty guitars groan in the background, that help to give “Sub Zero” a proper mood of despair.

Clever, sexy and Sweet are all under Chasity’s belt

With a voice that sounds bright-eyed and is enticingly feminine with a range of tones, Chasity is a new talent with an alternative state of mind.

Chasity makes songs that exude an 1980s sensibility abound with shimmering synths, often provided by progressive producer Warren “Oak” Felder. Her voice has a pop quality to it that is devoid of hard-edged attitude and rasp, but of something softer and inviting. Overall, Chasity is a pop singer who writes songs with muscular hooks and choruses, and songs that are held together thematically by clever metaphors, which are inherent on songs like “Glass House” and most notably the Oak-produced “Money.” On the song, “Money,” Chasity describes the currency that makes the world go round as something that evokes sexual arousal, as well as hunger. “Money” is clearly an ode to having money, but in the fashion in which Chasity sings about money, it sounds as if she could be laying her claim to a man who is the object of hers as well as the world’s desires.

Not only has Chasity written her own pop gems, but she has lent her intelligent song crafting to a string of divas including Jennifer Lopez (“In My Shoes”), Raven Symone (“Green” “That Girl”) and ivory-tickling New Yorker Karin Pasian (‘90s Baby”).

Blessed with smooth mahogany skin, eyes as bright as the moon and lips that are like slices of melon dipped in sugary syrup ready to be kissed, Chasity is a piece of chocolate delight with a coke-bottle body. Beautiful pop music is on its way to the airwaves by way of Chasity’s radio-ready music that is as R&B as it is glossy pop that will hook you.