It happens to almost every female Pop artist. There comes a moment when she decides to infuse her sound and image with a new sexuality, supposedly borne out of some newfound confidence. When it’s an artist with actual undisputable talent, it’s usually tasteful, if titilating (although there are some awkward exceptions). Then you’ve got the attention-seekiing, rite-of-Disney-passage hoe-down that seems to lure everyone who isn’t so Raven.
But the funniest has to be the when this sexual awakening magically coincides with the failure of an artist’s last few singles to do any real business at radio or retail. It befell Christina Milian (masterfully), Ciara (somewhat less so), and now it’s got Keri Hilson in its patent leather clutches. (more…)