Journey

Chronique

Shota Shimizu has built himself a career on extremely light bits of J-Urban aesthetics, usually planting himself in the middle of a rap ballad with some thin vocals and a lightweight rap delivery. On Journey, he seems to have finally found himself more fully. Rather than straining to fit a tougher aesthetic while being outdone by his female cameo guests, on Journey he aims more for straightforward R&B ballads. He gets to sing, in other words. There's good and bad here. On the bright side, the style fits Shimizu's weak vocals much, much better than some of his previous attempted sounds. He can turn his thin sound into vulnerability here: he's pleading, he's serenading softly, he's smoothly lilting through the lyrics. The less amazing side: the songs are nearly indistinguishable from one another in tone and mood. They're extremely similar to the rest of the J-Urban crowd now, with little to recommend Shimizu over other options. The brightest light on Journey is also the least characteristic song. The album ends, after a long series of light love songs, on "Let's Groove." As the title might suggest, there's a bit of a nod to Earth, Wind & Fire in there, with a bit of a disco thump to the proceedings. What's more interesting is the way that Shimizu finally channels his vocals into a pop-disco bent, coming up with a believable bit of respectable dance pop à la Jamiroquai. Journey marks a bit of a welcome reworking of Shimizu's sound, but really pays off when it goes off of its own course.

© Adam Greenberg /TiVo