Will Smith is probably not the most intelligent, most eloquent or most talented African-American male on the planet, but he has all of those qualities to some degree, plus he's high-profile. Very high-profile. This puts Will in a bit of a bind. Because he's become a role-model for many young black Americans, and because, let's face it, he's more acceptable to the mainstream, than, say, Ol' Dirty Bastard, he seems to feel he's obliged to be squeaky-clean.

I can't help but feel that he'd actually like to go all Chuck D on us, but he can't, because he's Will Smith, and he might one day become the first black president of the United States. Seriously.

Either way, there's not a lot of excuses for this record. Not that it's an appallingly bad album, per se, but it's a bland album, and it's not like he needs the money. Hit singles 'Will2K' and 'Wild Wild West' are included, but like 'Gettin' Jiggy With It' before them, they're basically carbon copies of previous hit singles, superbly produced, but with a clinical precision that's the antithesis of soul.

As if all that wasn't enough, Smith is far too hip to allow someone to use such a god-awful album title in his name. What was he thinking?