I never was too big on the NBA….

…it’s true; I can’t last through one quarter, much less the whole game. This feeling applies to another meaning for the NBA acronym as well: No Boys Allowed. I like Keri Hilson, but I’m forcing myself through these tracks this go around. Now, let me start by saying that I am NOT an album critic, but while listening to Keri’s second attempt at R&B stardom, I felt compelled to jot down a few of my thoughts for y’all.


If the singles are truly an indication of the direction of the album as a whole, then I should’ve known that I wouldn’t really dig NBA. “Breaking Point” was…ok, to say the least (or the most, depending on how you look at it). I personally don’t like and can’t stand to hear it; in fact, as soon as she started singing Every woman, yeah in my ear, my finger flew to the next button. “Pretty Girl Rock” isn’t really as atrocious as I tell everybody who brings it up, but it’s one of those typical, mundane, “don’t hate, appreciate” songs that I always hear whenever I happen to turn on the radio, so…on to the next one! “The Way You Love Me”…hmm, how to explain the dichotomy of my feelings towards this song/video? (I can’t explain the song without referring to the video; they’re a total package.) On one hand, I kinda hate the song/video because it’s such a departure from the Keri that I fell in love with in the first place. I mean, it seriously sounds like NOTHING on her debut. Where was my Miss Keri Baby? On the OTHER hand, I have to admit; there is something terribly sexy about her growling It’s the way you f*ck me and bragging about her pussy (sorry, Lauryn) game. As for the video,

My sensibility and carnality clash when I think of The Way You Love Me; this song truly tortures me.


Keri’s first album In a Perfect World was pretty damn perfect to me. That’s my mood music; no matter how I’m feeling, there’s a song to correlate to my emotions, whether it’s the lyrics, the beat, or how she sings on the track. The replay-value is insane; I swear, the play count for Change Me on my iPod is in the thousands. I don’t feel the same with NBA. I’m listening to it as I write this “review”, and for the life of me, I can’t remember anything I just heard. All I can think about is this blister on the inside of my thumb that I got from raking leaves this weekend. Nothing moves me or makes me feel…alive like her first album does. No, I take that back; I feel moved enough to cringe when I listen to her voice strain on the chorus of Lose Control.


Despite how negative I feel about this album, I actually am a big Keri fan. Everything about her, from her lean frame to her slighty-raspy voice, appeals to me. But I’m not one of those fans that co-sign whatever the artist does, even when it’s really not that good.  Sorry, but I call bull when I hear it, and I’m picking up my phone now.


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