Hey buddy, whatever's in that bottle it ain't your mojo, so put it down.
The adage that says, "You don't know what you've got til it's gone," doesn't apply only to lovers lost to fate, vice or misfortune. It also can apply to a king losing his crown. As human beings, most of us tend to get comfortable. If we've been successful once, twice or three times, then we suspect things will always be that way. It's how Tiger Woods thought he could away with passing pancake waitresses his cell phone number on the side just because he got away with it the last 14 times. And in music, with its turbulent here-today-gone-tomorrow atmosphere, if an artist becomes too comfortable, he becomes vulnerable to attempts by upstarts to topple the crown off his regrettably complacent head. Such is the tale of Usher Raymond, also known as Mr. Entertainment.
Usher quietly entered the music industry in 1994 with his self-titled debut album at the tender age of 16. He was under the wing of Diddy and Bad Boy, with Puff and Jodeci's Devante Swing co-executive producing the album and Biggie's wife, Faith Evans, lending background vocals to several tracks. The album didn't make a big splash, but it got the young singer's feet wet. His 1997 sophomore album "My Way," however, blew the hinges off the door with his Jermaine Dupri-produced hit single "You Make Me Wanna." Other hits followed, such as "Nice and Slow" and "My Way," cementing Usher's arrival in music. In concert he was an unattainable Lothario for his largely female fan base. Borrowing from Michael Jackson's playbook, he made sure to bare his upper torso regularly to titillate the crowds, but he took it one step further and often dropped trou onstage. Bashful, he was not.
So with 10 plus years of record-breaking success in the industry, Usher should pretty much be able to break wind in the studio and have it played on the radio 5 times every hour, no? Not quite. His latest album "Raymond v. Raymond" has gotten off to so many false starts that if it were a sprinter in the Olympics, it would've long since been disqualified. He's tossed out multiple "first singles" all in the hopes of landing one bite. But nothing has taken off on its own, so he and his team have settled on launching the new project with the uneven and mellow single "Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home)."
Yikes. This video and song sound like one of those bonus tracks that artists toss out to help sell a greatest hits album. Where's the message? What's the point? "My Way" was Usher's "Control" album. Like Janet Jackson at her prime, he was staking a claim and defining himself as adult and an artist. "8701" built on the success of "My Way" and explored more complex themes of love, pain, lust and desire. And "Confessions" was a pure soap opera on record, spawning a "Moonwalker"-style mini-movie called "Rhythm City." But then the train went off the rails with Usher's grown man album, "Here I Stand." His marriage to his much older former stylist, Tameka Foster, proved to be kryptonite to his fan base. They rebelled and while the lead single "Love In This Club" landed at the top of the charts, all the follow-up singles failed to generate much buzz.
And so with his sixth studio album on the horizon, Usher finds himself having to fend off claims to his throne. Chris Brown was on a rapid ascent to Usher's position, until he was completely derailed by his PR nightmare assault of Rihanna. And Ne-Yo has stolen some of Usher's slow jam thunder, while Trey Songz is the new set of hot abs in town that make the ladies say aah.
But truth be told, this isn't the first time Usher's found himself in this predicament. Shortly before he released his third album "8701," Usher suffered a misstep with his single "Pop Ya Collar." When it was clear that the song was sinking, his team wisely regrouped, scrapped most of the material they had come up with and started over again. And when it came time to launch "Confessions," before the Lil' Jon-produced single "Yeah!" took off on its own, Usher and his label had planned to go with the safe Dupri-produced "Burn." So an uncertainty in direction and sound has been somewhat of a tradition for Usher at this point, but he usually has it locked down and figured out by the time he cuts the first music video. By the looks of "Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home)," it's not clear that his compass is working.
Despite the understudies gaining steady ground and Usher's showing signs of faltering, it's too soon to count him out just yet. If Usher can focus and hone in on what it is he does best, sing songs with passion behind them and perform routines with energy, he can reclaim his throne for another era. But if "Raymond v. Raymond" fails to produce a gem, Usher may soon find himself kissing the ring of King Trey.
