She's been the woman in control, the military leader of the rhythm nation, the one socially acceptable member of the Jackson clan and even, on 1997's 'The Velvet Rope', the happily married thirtysomething superstar indulging in a few mild S&M fantasies. Now on 'All For You', Janet unveils her most unnerving and plausible character thus far; the divorcee on the prowl.
'All For You' is a concept album of sorts, rooted in Jackson's traumatic separation from husband and collaborator Rene Elizondo Jr. It begins tremendously, with a bunch of party tracks illustrating a newly-free woman checking out men on the dancefloor. Soon, the action moves to the bedroom, and some amusingly explicit shagging tracks, before a virulent suite detailing what a bastard her ex is. Finally, there's a soppy phase heralding a new life and the prospects of new love.
As a psychological study of a woman regaining control of her life, then, it's fascinating stuff: "I had a career before now, didn't I? I had a few hits before now, didn't I?" she notes in 'Truth', effectively an open letter to Elizondo. On the bizarre 'Son Of A Gun', she's much angrier: "I'm gonna make you suffer you stupid muthaf**ker," she rages, whilst Carly Simon raps incompetently and interpolates part of her old kiss-off classic 'You're So Vain' into the mix.
The rude stuff's pretty unequivocal, too. After the wonderful Chic swish of recent hit 'All For You' and a couple more stomping 'Rhythm Nation'-style floor-fillers (she remains faithful to the still fine writing/production team of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis), the album degenerates into a sexfest. The come-hithering begins with the excellent 'When We Oooo' and climaxes, in a very real sense, four songs later with 'Would You Mind?' and an extravaganza of panting that recalls the hot-under-the-collar comedy of 'Je T'Aime (Moi Non Plus)'.
At a time when scrub-trashing, no-bullshit R&B women like TLC, Destiny's Child, Kelis and Pink rule the charts, 'All For You' is, effectively, Jackson reclaiming the empowered territory she established on 'Control' all those years ago, only with a peculiarly intimate, confessional spin. Musically, she and Jam & Lewis have a knack of hardly changing their slick formula, whilst still sounding contemporary. This is a much more satisfying album than 'The Velvet Rope', even if most of the songs are overlong and a few juggle satin sheet-cliches with self-help ones to numbing effect.
Nevertheless, 'All For You' stands as a monument to the positive effects of divorce. And it sets a standard the forthcoming, reportedly ultra-modern opus by brother Michael will have to work some to match. Now, whatever did happen to LaToya?
