Rather than celebrate the 20th anniversary of her breakthrough single,
Monica declares a
Code Red order on the commercial airwaves that have squeezed out soul-rooted R&B. The first song on her seventh U.S. album is the title track, a scuttling assault produced by
Polow and assisted by
Missy Elliott, which involves the protest "Turn off the radio, damn right/We don't hear real shit no mo'." After that song fades, the next voice heard is that of
Lil Wayne, whose most recent radio triumphs as a featured artist include "Truffle Butter." One can't be faulted for being confused by
Monica's perspective. Later, she returns to the theme with "I Miss Music," a wistful ballad somewhere between mid-'90s adult alternative singer/songwriter material and
Babyface's contemporaneous hits.
Monica begins by listing departed legends, then mixes it up by citing some living and very active artists, including
Babyface. It's odd. Not only does she long for the type of music that continues to be created in abundance, and with easy access, but a fair portion of it has come from her RCA label mates --
D'Angelo,
Elle Varner,
Miguel, and past songwriting collaborator
Jazmine Sullivan among them. Subtract the mixed and muddled messages (another song features
Akon, maker of "Smack That"), and
Code Red is satisfactory. It's another
Monica album that, at its best, draws from the past while remaining in the present, as heard in the luminous ballad "Deep," the
Teena Marie-referencing electro/freestyle hybrid "Suga," and the pop-soul belter "Alone in Your Heart." Most of the collaborations with
Polow,
Danja,
Pop & Oak,
Philip Constable, and
Fatboi handily surpass the three that involve
Timbaland. What truly distinguishes
Code Red from the rest of
Monica's albums is that the singer is credited as co-writer of every track, not one, two, or three of them. Unsurprisingly, she sounds completely connected to every song.