Music Review:
Departure, Jesse McCartney



DEPARTURE

YOU WANTED TO KNOW
There aren’t a lot of things I know about Jesse McCartney. I knew that he started in show business when he was like five; that he was on a television show called “Summerland” and all the tween girls loved him; that he had a couple of music videos where he made out with some prepubescent girls who looked more like men than he did. And, on several occasions, I thought he was Aaron Carter.

But then I heard “Leavin’” a couple of months ago, and couldn’t believe that someone named Jesse McCartney could have put out such a single. With clunky R&B beats and a silky, assured falsetto, “Leavin’” was the anti-Jesse McCartney I had grown to not really know but form an opinion about nonetheless. And then I saw the music video, which started my shameful, downward spiral into McCartney-mania. Not only did I feel like a lecherous old woman lusting after someone who could be my younger brother (let’s not say “son” because that would make me feel really old), but I was also enamoured enough by the first single to listen to the whole album, on loop, for a week straight.

Leavin’” has all the trappings of a typical R&B song, but is performed with the vigour of someone who’s just discovered a new hobby (or in McCartney’s case: sex). With heavy beats woven around a smooth, poppy backtrack, the song is fresh, light, and fun. In fact, it’s a little too light and fun, with lyrics like, “Man, that thing you got behind you is amazing” and “Girl we flying on the G5, G5” (it took me a long time to figure out what a “G5” was). Still, the song is a solid first single that’s already charted in several countries including Brazil and Italy, and peaked at number ten on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100, effectively making this McCartney’s highest charted single to date (it reached number three on the Billboard Pop 100). And while the song is a baby step into the urban world, the video serves as a giant leap from gawky clean-cut teen to young R&B heartthrob.

But “Leavin’” is not the only single worth listening to on Departure. “How Do You Sleep,” full of spitfire lyrics set against a synthesized backtrack, is an upbeat, well-meaning lament about a love lost. I say “well-meaning” because while the production is superb, the lyrics are slightly lacking. I mean, how could you not melt when you hear sweet nothings like, “Not only did your body bang, but I miss the conversation too”? It’s not exactly deep, but nevertheless, McCartney gets points for effort.

It’s Over,” an unequivocally R&B track, starts off unremarkably but picks up midway. Reminiscent of early R&B groups like New Edition and Jodeci, “It’s Over” employs a few falsetto notes that are just a hint of what’s yet to come. Unfortunately, the song uses too much cell phone allegory for my liking (“so when you call I’m pressing 7,” “got the picture phone, baby your picture’s gone,” etc.) – especially considering that me and the crazy cat lady across the hall are the last people in the world to not own a cell phone. But despite it all, there are a few drops of self-awareness and candidness between the lines (“You know that it's over when the burnin' and the yearnin' inside your heart ain't there anymore, and you know that you're through when she don't do to you, and move you like the way she moved ya before”). Still, I can’t help but giggle when I hear, “I still wake up every morning, quarter to ten, I still eat my cereal right at the kitchen table,” because I picture a bowl of Cap’n’Crunch and Saturday morning cartoons, which is probably not what the twenty-one-year-old McCartney is going for.

On “Rock You,” it’s a whole different story. With an energetic rock/rap hybrid beat, McCartney goes for “hard” and almost succeeds. Producer and sometime rapper Sean Garrett (Usher’s "Yeah!," Chris Brown's "Run It!" and Beyoncé’s "Check On It,” just to name a few) guests, although his purpose is not really clear. The single is catchy, but when McCartney earnestly talk-sings, “I’m-a rock you,” it sounds more like a threat than a come on. And then there’s the “They call me Jesse, baby” refrain that makes me cringe because that is, in fact, his name. Plus, “You and me, we gonna travel like a Visa” is not the most clever lyric out there. Speaking of catchy but foolish, “Makeup” is another single that survives on loop but can’t be taken too seriously. Cloying beats, a choppy lyrical style, and interesting tempo changes save this dance song, but the Spanish woman randomly talking in the background and the subject manner (“I wanna see you when I wake up, ‘cause you look good without makeup” sums up the song in a nutshell) do not. Nor does the annoying guy that pops up at the third minute, repeating everything that’s been said about ten times.

Fans of early McCartney may enjoy “Not Your Enemy,” but since I had no idea that McCartney existed before 2003, I do not. This sappy ballad is unsurprisingly the last track of the album, a jarring shift from the previous tracks that looms like a hangnail waiting to fall off. Big strings, drums, and piano notes compete with McCartney as he hits glory note after glory note (sometimes not so well), and sings about letting your guard down because he’s not going to screw you over like your ex-boyfriend did. Or something like that. I’m not too sure because I fell asleep halfway through.

My Baby” may take you out of the coma that “Not Your Enemy” put you into. With a lot of falsetto rivaling Justin Timberlake, McCartney channels early Michael Jackson, if Michael Jackson were to fall into a big vat of retro music punctuated by synthesizers. The song is not going to change your life, but it is one of the sweeter songs on the album that doesn’t somehow conjure up images of sex. The chorus, which consists of “gotta make ya my baby, wanna make ya my baby” in a high-pitched croon, gets repetitive at times, but it’s still a lot better than “Relapse.” In this R&B single with heavy bass accents, McCartney sings about the pitfalls of running back to the one person you know is not good for you. In fact, he says, “I keep falling back in love, and I know that this girl, she's not the one for me.” The rhythm changes keep the song from being a complete write-off, but it does highlight how smooth but bland McCartney’s voice is. “Runnin’” is another track about commitment, but this time, McCartney’s having none of it. Set against a pop-infused R&B backbeat that would make Rihanna proud, “Runnin’” speaks about shying away from “real love.” It’s one of the more genuine songs on Departure, not to mention something that you could imagine a twenty-one-year-old singing about.

Into Ya” is a standard R&B song that could easily fit into a sixteen-year-old’s “slow jams” category on iTunes (we all know what you mean when you say, “if you let me put it a little into ya,” McCartney), but it’s worth bringing up because it completely drifts from the album’s underlying feel. In fact, with a complete R&B make-over that Justin Timberlake would approve of, it almost belongs on a different album.

And that’s why Departure is an eclectic diamond in the rough. Filled with club-friendly dance songs and silky R&B tracks, this album is what making music should be all about: taking risks, accepting change, aiming for diversity, and straying from the comfort zone. Even though he hasn’t broken any barriers (and, if truth be told, employs a lot of standard musical conventions), McCartney’s shown that change is good. And just for exceeding expectations, he’s already ahead of the pack. ¤ C.Ho.

DEPARTURE: (out of 5)

Psst! Did Christine get her man at the end? Read about her venture into tween concert-going as she shamelessly attends a Jesse McCartney concert. All this and many more articles, reviews, and rants can be found on our blog.