But damned if she’s not going to give it a red hot go in song form…
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[6.00]
Brad Shoup: Hudson’s two studio sets have been far-ranging affairs, characterized at the time of their release as scattershot and starving for identity, because a voice like hers is apparently not a good enough unifier. “I Can’t Describe” pairs her with a rapper, a standard approach that she’s seen fit to do only a couple times (Luda’s spot on the Timbaland-produced “Pocketbook” and Rick Ross’ cameo for “Think Like a Man”). Of course, this isn’t just a rapper. This is T.I., still enjoying the spoils of his relay leg on the similarly retro “Blurred Lines”. He purrs encouragements while a thoroughly multi-tracked Hudson adjusts to the rhythmic snap. She’s a showstopper, a born stringer of vowels, and I can sense her strain against the demanded terseness. The track is light-magenta disco, stepping lightly, afraid to out-flourish its owner.
[6]
Rebecca A. Gowns: Jennifer goes for retro, gathering some sounds from 80s funk and 90s R&B (mostly landing as an on-the-nose impersonation of the Mary Jane Girls). The throwback is shameless, but it’s saved by its loyalty to the source material; after all, a good sound is a good sound. It ends up being a very enjoyable song in 30-second bursts (commercial-ready!), but past that, it starts repeating itself…and then T.I. comes in… and then I’m asleep. But what a nice loop to fall asleep to!
[6]
Anthony Easton: Her voice has calmed down a bit, and the idea of feeling and not feeling — the lacuna of language — is always interesting, but I wonder if this would have been more successful with a more orgasmic, melting, falling apart vocal.
[6]
Alfred Soto: Aretha’s uneven Luther Vandross-produced period in the early eighties deserves rediscovery, and credit to Hudson and co. for finding a bass line as supple as Marcus Miller and piano as clipped as Nat Adderly, Jr’s. Hudson extends the notes as if in search of a missing libretto. T.I tosses lines as if looking for a context.
[6]
Jonathan Bogart: Twenty-tweens nostalgia for Nineties hip-hop-n-b nostalgia for Seventies disco might be one level of recursion too many for listeners who want pop to reflect the present tense. But Jennifer Hudson doesn’t have to be concerned with making pop, which can free her to do what she wants. If what she wants is a bassline this buttery and hooks this elbow-swinging, then I say let her at them. T.I. plays his role as deftly as Method Man, as gentlemanly as Nickolas Ashford.
[7]
Crystal Leww: This reminds me so much of R. Kelly’s often overlooked “Share My Love” from his 2012 album. Like R. Kelly, Jennifer Hudson’s already proven herself as a more than adept as as a vocalist. Here, she chooses to groove and bounce along to a light little disco-influenced tune. It’s not going to win her any fans or radio play for being contemporary or current sounding, but she sounds so natural and classic in this mode. T.I.’s presence is probably meant to capitalize on the recent slew of sung/rap collabs that have come back in style, but this is the wrong style for that kind of collaboration and the song would be much better off without the distraction. This is Jennifer Hudson’s joyful ride; no need for some dude to come through and mess it up.
[6]
Edward Okulicz: “Tingles here, tingles there, ooh it tingles everywhere” — despite that nimble bassline, I’m not entirely sure that part of this song hasn’t been flown in from an ad for some kind of cosmetic product.
[5]