A lot or a little?
The parents' guide to what's in this music.
What parents need to know
What's the story?
Chingy does it again -- or maybe, DOESN'T do it again -- on HOODSTAR. Droning, monotone backing tracks provide the perfect audio setting for some of the laziest lyrics in popular music, making the listener long for the cleverness of Ludacris. As usual, it's all about the night life -- and how women's rear ends look in (or out of) their tight jeans. Even die-hard fans might expect a little more substance this time around. The only bright spots are provided by guest artists, who manage to raise the energy and artistry level a few notches just by providing talented voices that aren't Chingy's.
Is it any good?
Let's start with Chingy's voice: flat and unexpressive, whether he's appreciating a trendily dressed tush or trying to present himself as an artist with depth by dedicating a really bad song to Katrina and 9/11 victims' relatives. There are the lyrics, generously sprinkled with expletives and bad rhymes (rhyming "body" with "somebody" is just plain lazy songwriting). Then there are the tracks. Most of the songs hang on one note throughout, with no chord changes, interesting samples, or rhythmic excitement. Bottom line: Hoodstar is incredibly, irretrievably, and inconsolably boring.