Review by Peter Kane

2 stars out of a possible 5



Leather lunged soul diva returns, much aided by
a certain bonsai-sized Minneapolis native. She's
been up. She's been down. Right now, Chaka
Khan's standing is closer to the bottom than the
top, surely a galling prospect for one who could,
technically, sing most of the competition off the
planet. It's arguably not the shrewdest of career
moves, then, to be hitching her wagon so firmly
to an old friend who isn't quite what he was. The
album is produced by Khan and his
Squiggleness. He's had a hand in writing most
of the tracks and it's on his own label too. A
decade back that might have been fine. Not
these days, however. At best, the ballads limp
by while the patented slinky funk of "Spoon",
"Betcha Eye" and "Pop My Clutch" slip far too easily
into the same old lubricious routine. Come 2 My
House? Not 2 Day Thank U.