Usher
Raymond v. Raymond
LAFACE

It’s no surprise that Usher chose divorce as the theme of his sixth album, considering his recent separation from Tameka Foster. After 2008’s Here I Stand delved similarly into the tormented pop star’s personal issues, his R&B has taken a serious departure from its roots, transforming from club-ready, hurt-numbing bump ‘n’ grinds to a long soulful whine — causing sales and critical reception to (deservedly) suffer.

But on Raymond v. Raymond — whose name is inspired by 1979 Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep divorce film “Kramer vs. Kramer” — Usher’s two personas try to reconcile. He bounces between reflecting on his failed domesticity and dropping it like it’s hot for Billboard. The result is an incoherent hodgepodge of momentumless emotion that hardly manages to budge the empathy meter.

Raymond may parade a potpourri of hotshot producers — Jermaine Dupri, Will.i.am, Polow da Don, RedOne, Danja and T.I. — but they only add to the overall inconsistency of the tracklist. Oedipal lead single “Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) makes a desperate attempt at distracting us from its redundant R&B groove with a creepy pedophilic confession. Usher’s signature rich tenor and impressive range are undeniable, but his muse has left the building: Over-tumbled loops and overuse of the pimp-in-the-club fantasy border on intolerable. We do get a breather with “Papers” — the first moment of honesty on the album — whose falsetto almost resembles that of (dare I say it?) a certain Mickey Mouse Clubber gone soulman, not to mention Usher’s young protigee Justin Bieber. Bubblegum synths make “Guilty” a less catchy “Baby,” as Usher’s maturity level likewise drops to that of a 16-year-old: “I guess I’m guilty for wanting to be up in the club/ I guess I’m guilty for leaving and having a little fun” and “Your honor, she accused me of cheating.” We can excuse Bieber a few rosy-cheeked playground jabs, but Usher just comes off R. Kelly creepy. 3/10