He is, apparently, David Beckham's favourite performer - which is pleasingly apt, in that Usher deals in an updated version of the bland Essex-funkateer boudoir-soul so beloved of footballers through the ages. Oh, really? Why then, one wonders, didn't he try applying a little of that "originality" to Confessions, an album so bereft of original ideas it could probably get a job in television. Confessions is a loose concept album about desire and deceit, with Usher either beating the gĪccording to his press release, the R&B smoochmeister Usher "encompasses all aspects of entertainment with a flair for originality bettered by no other". Arguably even worse, given that Usher's hip-hop sprechstimme delivery largely dispenses with variations in melody, rendering the songs virtually indistinguishable for much of the album, reliant on the listener's ability to recognise the different styles of Jermaine Dupri, Rich Harrison, Andre Harris & Vidal Davis, Lil' Jon and Jam & Lewis. According to his press release, the R&B smoochmeister Usher "encompasses all aspects of entertainment with a flair for originality bettered by no other".
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