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Chante Moore
Exposed
By Steven Fullwood
In a myriad of ways, the title of Chante Moore’s new album, Exposed, says it
all. Expose yourself, Chante. Strip down, show some skin; let your hair down. Strip your
unique, mature style down to a bland carbon copy of every other charting female singer.
Expose your hunger for a hit record. Strip the music down to beats; allow the album’s
producers and songwriters to drape you in forgettable melodies and corny hooks better
suited for youngsters still discovering their bodies. All said, this material is so
beneath Moore, it’s in Valhalla.
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Too bad nobody thought to bury this project before it hit
music stores. Exposed is a total misrepresentation and misuse of Chante’s exquisite
voice from the first single, “Straight Up,” through to its abysmal end.
Co-executive producer Jermaine Dupri shares part of the blame, along with other
“Give-me-money-I’ll-produce-anybody” culprits like Jamey Jaz and Jimmy Jam
and Terry Lewis. But the main fault falls square in the lap of Moore, who co-pens seven of
the twelve lousy tracks.
Exposed fails to impart the stamp of identity Moore established with her first two
excellent albums, Precious and A Love Supreme. The album ranges from silly (“I’m
Keeping You,” “Take Care of Me”) to boring (“When It Comes to
Me”) to straight up embarrassing (“Bitter”) and coalesces into a musical
mess.
However, Moore’s voice never falters; full, delicate and sweet, filled with
expressive range and melodic flow. If anything positive can be said about Exposed,
that’s it. Purchase it at your peril.
M
January 2001
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