Plugged in and ready to fall

I'll never forget my initial surprise after listening to Jordan Knight's first solo CD. Instead of following Joey Mac's lead and putting out a middle-of-the-road pop record, he took a risk and sought out (Then unknown) Robin Thicke to help him come up with a unique blend of angst-ridden rock/soul. Even though he was marketed to the same teenage girls who were devouring new product by N*Sync and Backstreet at an alarming rate, Knight's self-titled debut had a certain darkness and maturity that elevated it above everything the hit-makers over at Jive were peddling.

"Give it to You" (The first single) immediately grabbed me with its unusual rhythmic shifts and slick hip-hop beats that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a Timbaland record, but the ballads and mid-tempo jams were where Knight really pulled out all the stops. "Don't Run From Me" was a great example of this- a dark, almost creepily co-dependent song that had Knight pleading and moaning over a sinister Mobb Deep sample.

In the nine years since “Give it to You” rocketed to the top of the pop charts, Knight was unceremoniously dropped from Interscope, and rescued (if you can call it that) by Transcontinental Records, where he put out three lackluster albums that had none of the depth and inventiveness of his debut. Robin Thicke, on the other hand, emerged as one of the few blue-eyed soul acts to infiltrate urban radio’s notoriously segregated format.

I can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of Jordan Knight that’s just a little peeved at how urban radio markets have readily embraced Thicke, while Knight’s trapped in Transcontinental Hell, forced to churn out half hearted covers of eighties pop songs (See: “Love Songs:” Knight’s restrained version of “Careless Whisper” sounds like it’s being sung at gunpoint).

When I listen to “Evolution,” then go back and play “The Fix” (Knight’s distressingly uneven EP), it’s obvious who was responsible for the soulful, introspective R&B sound that fueled Knight’s solo debut. Up until recently, I used to give all the credit to the ex-New Kid, but the sheer awfulness that dominates most of Knight’s post-Thicke output make it clear that Knight isn’t even in the same league as Robin Thicke when it comes to song-writing.

While “The Fix” comes across as a rushed, low budget attempt to mimic the kind of junk found on 106th and Park, “The Evolution of Robin Thicke” has loftier ambitions. Instead of simply imitating Prince, Thicke actually seems to have an understanding of the man (The early 80’s Prince, mind you- not the guy who made “Batdance” and “Diamonds & Pearls”) and what it was that made his songs so unique. Pharrell shows up briefly to add a little star power to the hypnotic, up tempo track “Wanna Love U Girl,” but it’s the slower, neptunes-free songs that fully display Thicke’s talents both as a singer and as a song writer. “Teach U a Lesson” is a subversive role play fantasy filled with the sort of sly innuendo that’s sorely missing in modern Pop/R&B. “Ask Myself” sounds like something Marvin Gaye could have recorded. And on “Got 2 B Down,” Thicke doesn’t just hold his own against Faith Evans, he actually manages to upstage her with his glass-shattering falsetto.

I still think Jordan Knight is capable of making good on the promise of his debut. But in order to do that, he’ll have to ditch Transcontinental, and beg Robin Thicke to convince Pharrell to sign him to Star Trak. Either that, or continue his slow descent back into the Ex-Teen Idol Phantom Zone alongside Tiffany and Jeremy Jordan.

No Akon or Ciara for me, thank you very much. My MP3 player hungers for M-Flo, Koda Kumi, Utada Hikaru, and Yoshika. No matter how much J-Urban music I feed it, it craves more and more each day. Who knew that the land responsible for used-panties-in-a-vending-machine and "Rapeman," would one day put out pop R&B music that slays the incestuous, uninspired junk cynically cranked out on these shores?

Koda Kumi's "got the 'Hot Stuff'." BoA teamed up with Howie Dorough (Yep, THAT Howie D.) for the kind of fun, criminally catchy R&B track I haven't heard since Sheena Easton let Prince invade her "Sugarwalls." And M-Flo flips fluid rhymes, effortlessly switching back and forth between English and Japanese while Kahimi Karie coos softly over a hip-hop beat.

I have no idea what Namie Amuro is singing about on the Dallas Austin-produced "Something Bout the Kiss," but I bet if Beyonce ever heard this song, she'd calmly remove her lace front wig and stick her head inside an oven.