continues the late-career renaissance of the singer/songwriter, marking the fourth consecutive album he's largely written either on his own or in collaboration with his producer . , the first of these, arrived in 2013 when was fresh from penning his 2012 memoir Rod: The Autobiography, so it carried a measure of introspection. came out in 2021, nearly a decade removed from the publication of his autobiography, and is in a decidedly looser frame of mind. While there are quieter moments here, such as a tribute to his late father on "Touchline," they're overshadowed by the return of Randy Rod. He opens the album asking a lover for "One More Time" before they break up, reasoning that "the sex was immense," he eulogizes as a pioneer of boogie and sensuality, then he refashions 's "I Want Your Sex" into a carnal celebration on "Kookooaramabama," a song that's as absurd as its title. All this untrammeled horniness is wrapped up in a gleaming digital bow by , who emphasizes modern R&B rhythms and gilded surfaces. When things get a little slower and sweeter, as they do on the title track, the productions don't seem quite so desperately imposing, yet there's a certain tacky appeal to these garish, overblown feints at contemporary pop. The settings are modern, but 's ribald charm is old-fashioned, often ingratiatingly so. Sure, "Kookooaramabama" is silly, but 's embrace of sexual pleasure is as sincere as his denunciation of "bigots, racists, and those that divide" on "Hold On," an earnest ballad in the vein of 's "A Change Is Gonna Come." The sacred has always sat comfortably with the profane in 's art, and he's holding true to that on , an album that's alternately baffling, absurd, sweet, and endearing. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine