Jaheim' s Ghetto Classics: Not So Much

Jaheim is a prime example that having an amazing voice does not guarantee making an amazing album. For roughly 5 years, he's mesmerized millions of R&B fans with that robust yet silky smooth tenor of his; evoking strong memories of Teddy, Barry, and Luther and coercing the younger generation into buying and hailing his first two albums, Ghetto Love and Still Ghetto, as male-R&B masterpieces, or as the title of his junior release suggests, Ghetto Classics. But moving past the spellbinding hypnosis of his vocals, Jaheim's albums are typically 1/3 pseudo-brilliance, and 2/3 mediocrity. Ghetto Classics only improves on such a trend slightly but still ultimately adds to the pile of misguided talents and wasted potentials clogging the airwaves.

From an aesthetic standpoint, Ghetto Classics leaves much to be desired. The external packaging reveals a tracklist of 11 and the internal packaging is the epitome of bare-bones. Boasting a sole photo of Jaheim and the standard credit listings, it's easy to assume that Warner Bros. nor Jaheim put much thought into this project. But thankfully, Jaheim's close-knit, in-house production team of KayGee and Eric & Wesley, with a couple assists from Scott Storch, Bink, and the Co-Stars, makes Ghetto Classics Jaheim's most impressive record to date.

But impressive for Jaheim still doesn't leave much to expect. Yet with a terse runtime of 43:00, there's little room left for fat and positions this record to balance out the equation between psuedo-brilliance and mediocrity. As far as the album title suggests, the Classic part is definitely applicable to the production. Though 80% of the album is sampled, the production unit for this record makes sure those samples are smartly used to fuse Hip-Hop and Soul in some of the sleekest and lushest ways possible.

And as for the Ghetto stigma attached to every single album released under Jaheim's moniker, it's most applicable to the album's subject matter and conceptual song selection. With the sexual explicitness and profanity kept to a surprise minimum, the PA sticker clearly pasted on the album cover seems to this reviewer to be more of a pretense rather than a necessity. Jaheim's always played the role of the thug-lover, with more emphasis on the lover, but the PA sticker is used as a signal to all his "hardcore" fans that he has by no means gone soft on them.

And once again, Jaheim tries to fuse the best from both worlds and ends up with another confused sundry that flirts with the edges directly above and below average. The singles released in promotion of the album are standard Jaheim fare; Everytime I Think About Her is a Bink creation and has the expected soul sample, rap cameo from Jadakiss, and a sappy lyric from Jaheim about how the woman he's currently infatuated with is stuck on repeat in his brain a l? "Diamond In Tha Ruff". And The Chosen One is the standard Jaheim up-tempo about how his current infatuation is the center of his world, boasted by a infectiously delightful claptrack and brilliant Willie Hutch sample.

Elsewhere, Jaheim goes a little Maury P. on us with Daddy Thing; lambasting an old flame for dumping Jaheim to reunite with her child's father when Jaheim was the primary father figure in her daughter's life. Brilliant concept marred by bland execution. Scott Storch stops by and proves his worth as an R&B producer with the catchy Forgetful; this time, Jaheim's execution matching the brilliance of the concept as he diagnoses a flame with "selective amnesia" when it comes to his needs and wants as opposed to the size of his bank account. Then he takes it a step farther with the clever and infectious dancefloor number, Like A DJ. Boasting witty analogies between a woman's hot/cold attitude towards him and a DJ, Jaheim shows his capabilities when he has an intelligent lyric and competent production on his sign.

Then the album gets a little too 'ghetto' for its own good. Fiend may boasts the album's best production, with an ingenious Delfonics sample, and is addictive as the title indicates but one can't ignore Jaheim's disconcerting analogy of his woman to weed. Yes, weed. And from there, he goes on to regale us with his experience of wining and dining and boning a prostitute on 125th. Then he informs us he's a reformed convict with a new lease on love and life thanks to his woman on I Ain't Never, describes her beauty as "classical like violins" on Masterpiece, and then finishes out in the bedroom on Come Over.

Nothing loss, nothing gained. That's the impact Ghetto Classics ultimately has. You don't lose any respect for Jaheim as an artist nor any appreciation for his music. But you gain no new perspective on him as an artist and no new insight on his artistic personality. It's just another middle-of-the-road release by Jaheim that improves upon his first two releases but in the end, leaves him ghetto as ever and classic as never.