Make no mistake, when it comes to R&B, Usher Raymond is a pro. His dedication to his art could never be questioned. He’s no ex-'Mickey Mouse Club' child star. He never wasted his time in a second rate boy band. He never had a bad poodle perm. And he didn’t need a pop superstar girlfriend to make him famous. No, everything Usher’s achieved has been down to hard work, attention to detail and commitment to a singular vision.
Since his earliest days, singing in church, he’s known exactly who he wants to be. He’s honed his talent; practiced his high-pitched squeals, worn white socks with trousers that are too short and mastered the moonwalk. In video’s he’s even stopped the music to show off his moves - jumping off cars, dancing in the street and leaving little room for doubt that he was the King Of Pop’s heir apparent.
In 2001 his ambition to be the next Michael Jackson went into overdrive and the resulting "8701" album sold like platinum hotcakes. His time had finally come. And then along came Justin. Wearing almost identical ankle swingers and jauntily angled hat, Justin Timberlake body popped straight past Usher and took over the world. In the time it takes to grab a crotch, Usher, one of the most successful solo male artists in America, looked like an also-ran.
In truth, while Usher may have looked the part, he was never destined to fill Michael Jackson's sparkly loafers, and his fourth album makes it all too clear why. Like Usher himself, "Confessions" is a slick record. It’s immaculate in fact; lean, smooth, slinky and, as an R&B album, expertly executed. It pulls all the right moves, in all the right places. Text book stuff. Mechanical, processed almost. And that’s Usher all over. He’s spent so long studying the R&B greats and perfecting their moves, that he’s prone to regurgitate them note for note.
On "Superstar" he smooches slinkily, sings flawlessly of his adoration of his baby and sounds a bit like R Kelly. Slowly chastising a cheating lover, "Truth Hurts" cruises to shimmering swingbeat in a Montell Jordan stylee. And the tongue tripping "Confessions Part II" has him making like a one-man answer to Bones Thugs & Harmony. It’s all very proficient. But it’s by numbers.
But the real problem is that when he does find something with an imagination, he doesn’t know how to sell it. When Justin Timberlake sings of getting jiggy with the ladies, you can believe he’s had practice. When Usher sings about wanting to do it with a girl in the toilets, over the potentially filthy guitar grind of club track "Bad Girl", it’s hard to believe he knows what a girl is.
With lead single "Yeah!" being a genuine cyber funk masterpiece, and a lot of other perfectly respectable tunes backing it up, "Confessions" isn’t hard to like. But with the overall impression being of nice Usher making another nice album, it’s impossible to get excited about.
