Bobby Valentino “Bobby Valentino”

Bobby Valentino “Bobby Valentino” Inpress Magazine, October 2005

Bobby Valentino Bobby Valentino
By Mawuse Ziegbe“I really need some Bobby, you really need some Bobby, we really need some Bobby V” is a whole lotta swagger for the intro for one’s debut solo album. Clearly Bobby Valentino believes in a little well-placed cockiness (ha!) to introduce himself to a public that was completely unmoved by his first musical foray with the late 90s boy group Mista. All of his fans have since been waiting in earnest for him to reappear and both of them must have been proud of this solid self-titled effort.

Helmed by production duo Tim and Bob, the album is a wave of luscious bass-heavy grooves that are surprisingly refreshing. The wistful US single “Slow Down” has that playful first-summer-fling feel if one ignores the cornball lyrics: “Slow down/I just want to get to know you/but don’t turn around/ ‘cuz that pretty round thing looks good to me.” Yeah. “Tell Me” has a nimble bassline and wiry violins that cause involuntary head-nodding and the old skool synths in “Come Touch Me” are almost annoyingly infectious. Tie in Valentino’s nasal vocals and awkward lyrics and it’s fun, safe R&B for the whole gang.

Valentino tries his hand at the slow jam genre where he produces typical, rudimentary ballads that seem to run together towards the end of the album. As the light-hearted Bobby subsides and the furrowed-brow, “deep” Bobby steps in to make his musical shout-outs to his mama, his girl and his dog, the album wades deep into the syrupy depths of stereotypical R&B. With songs about “bubble baths,” “roses,” and “sweat all over our bodies” one is tempted to ask, “What does this barely post-pubescent boy know about anything really?”

Bobby Valentino is basically really good teenaged pop-soul. Although the topics are a bit adult, the level of sophistication suggests this is an album for hysterical little girls trained to pass out at the sight of the pop flavour of the month. Yet it is still good enough to listen on your own (don’t bust this out with a group of friends). You can file this somewhere between your Spice Girls and New Edition albums but nowhere near your Marvin Gaye records.