Once upon a time, singers didn't have to project an image to get by. Talented folks got by on talent. Particularly in the R&B world-think about the great soul singers of the Sixties and Seventies. Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye and Smokey Robinson didn't need a gimmick to get over. They got by on the power of their voices and the great songs that they wrote (or had written for them).

Somewhere along the line, male R&B singers split into three groups. You had the Michael Jackson-esque singer/dancers like Usher, Ginuwine and Justin Timberlake. Then there were the traditional crooners like Maxwell, and finally, there was the street-hardened "R&B thug." Basically a singer in a rapper's body, the "R&B thug" has become a rather troublesome development in the world of soul music over the course of the past couple of years. Not only does your average male singer have to be seductive and have a great voice, but he also has to represent for the streets with cliche "ghetto" lyrics and a manufactured swagger. This quality has manifested itself in artists like Donell Jones, modern-day R. Kelly, and especially Jahiem, an extraordinarily gifted vocalist who wastes his gift on songs like "Beauty & The Thug," "Me & My B*tch," and your favorite and mine, "Li'l N*gga Ain't Mine."

Following in Ja's footsteps (and sharing label distribution and a production team) is Fort Lauderdale-based Urban Mystic. Now, upon hearing dude's name, I thought-HOPED-that this cat would be offering a different take on soul music. Maybe some solid socio-political crooning, or even an offbeat neo-soul set of Maxwell-ish offerings. But those things are not to be found on Mystic's debut offering Ghetto Revelations. Instead, Mystic's solid voice is absolutely wasted on generic, cliched R&B, with barely one non-synthesized or sampled instrument behind him, and with hardly one intelligent lyric to boost his voice up.

The one treasure on this album is Mystic's voice. He's obviously a student of old soul, with a vocal tone reminiscent of Otis Redding or Bobby Womack. His raspy voice also draws comparisons to modern-day soul singers like Anthony Hamilton and Calvin Richardson. But similarities in voices aside, this dude couldn't hold Anthony Hamilton's dirty jockstrap.

"Givin' It Up" matches Mystic's voice to a decent-sounding old school arrangement , but we're just visiting a familiar theme here. He's sprung on some girl and promises to give up smoking weed and running the streets for her. "Mystic Spot" is a slight improvement, if only for the swaggering lyric and Mystic's speed-singing. The track definitely has a hint of old-school funk to it, then you look at the credits and realize that it was produced by 80's R&B luminary El De Barge. Makes you wish that El would have saved this for one of his own albums.

Things reach a stunningly bad climax on "The F*ck Song." I'll repeat: dude has a joint on his album called "The F*ck Song." Whereas R. Kelly (pre-peepee incident) could get away with something as amazingly crass as "Feelin' On Yo Booty" because it had a lighthearted humor to it, this song is just crass period. Not to mention it sounds like it was left on R.'s cutting-room floor. On the very next track, "Watch Out," Urban decides thaty he's had enough of soul emoting and takes on a Nelly-esque flavor over a track that stops about 3 inches away from crunk. If you can get through the song once, you half expect Lil' Jon to pop up with a "WHAAAAAAAAAAT!!?". The album completely falls apart when Mystic decides to incorporate a bit of The Staple Singers' gospel/R&B classic "I'll Take You There" on the godawful "Hit Me" (as in "hit me on my cellular phone"). Something tells me that Mavis Staples will NOT be making any guest appearances with Mystic when he performs this song.

Ghetto Revolutions sounds like some square marketing guy's paint-by-numbers definition of what an R&B singer's record should sound like. There's the "I grew up in the ghetto" song called, interestingly enough, "In Da Ghetto," there's the "momma" song (which actually isn''t that bad) called-guess what-"Mama's Song." There's "Ah Yeah," where Mystic does his best K-Ci of Jodeci impression (ripping off his trademark "Yeahhh-ehhh-yeeaaahhhh-ehh-yeeaaaahhh"), and there are more references to Escalades and Hennessey than your average 50 Cent record. I'd have no problem with this (OK-that's a lie-I wouldn't have as MUCH of a problem) if there was any sense of sincerity around it. The guy is wasting a perfectly good voice on songs that are meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. It's one thing to reflect your street upbringing on record, quite another to pander to the street constituency by thinking that the brothas on the block don't appreciate good music.

Not to say this album is totally awful, but you know something's wrong when the best song on it is a cover. Mystic turns in a slammin' version of Bobby Womack's "A Woman's Gotta Have It," an example of solid songwriting that this guy's people would have been wise to follow. Naughty By Nature producer Kay Gee also checks in with a couple of solid tracks-most notably "Where Were You," which gains points for taking a warm nostalgic trip back in time as well as delivering some solid boom-bap with the soul. It's fun and hooky-but what do you expect from the man who created "O.P.P." and "Hip Hop Hooray?"

Every time you think that soul music has turned a corner-witness the deserved success of John Legend's album-someone comes to shoot holes in the game. Urban Mystic is undeniably talented, but in order to succeed in the future, the brother needs to drop the whole R&B thug act-the overt sexual references and excessive profanity will not appeal to anyone who appreciates real soul music, and the real thugs will be a little too preoccupied with Fiddy to even notice your singin' *ss.

Michael Speed