Jason Walker
Flexible
Junior Vasquez Music

Since he first arrived on the music scene with the 2004 single “My Life,” Jason Walker’s primary appeal lay in the incongruence between look and sound: his own press materials promote Jason as a “skinny white boy with the voice of a full-fledged soul diva.” To be honest, Walker’s voice is best described as androgynous rather than feminine, a distinction that actually makes his music more interesting than his own marketing angle would suggest. Regardless, the title track to Flexible is an effective, pounding club treatise on the frustration of socially imposed limitations: “He’s gay, he’s straight, he’s black and he’s white,” Walker sings. “Why can’t you let me be / Flexible tonight?” For a moment, it seems that Walker’s sophomore album will go beyond the “whodduh thunk this bitch could saaaang like that?” surprise shtick that marked his first release. Unfortunately, the record fails to capitalize on Jason’s unique opportunity to examine the nuanced intersections of sex, gender and race. Though the album’s insistent beats owe a debt of gratitude to Madonna’s circuit-party House sound (not coincidentally, former Madge pal Junior Vasquez is a main producer on the disc), Walker is lacking the Material Mom’s blonde (or brunette) ambition in provoking deeper discussion.

If a call for social commentary seems too humorless a request to make of dance-pop confection, readers should recall Madonna’s “Like a Prayer,” “Papa Don’t Preach,” “Human Nature” and “Justify My Love” are prime examples that chart-topping pop can also have a point. And perhaps no male dance artist is in a better position to make one than Walker.

That he doesn’t is unfortunate, but the album does provide a few enjoyable dance tracks. “Foolish Lover (I’m Sorry)” has the potential to be the artist’s biggest hit to date; it’s a grinding, synth-infused gem. But Walker’s cover of “This Time Baby,” a disco classic variously performed by Jackie Moore, Lulu, and thousands of suburban wedding bands, comes across as dry and uninspired. Interestingly, Jason’s major contribution to the disc – a powerful and evocative voice – is buried underneath the kind of frenzied production that seems sponsored by Red Bull and Your Local Gay Bar. It’s a welcomed breather when the album closes with “Superstar,” a mid-tempo jazz cut that finally spotlights the artist’s pleasant voice. Those looking for a soundtrack to their Pride Parade post-party will not be disappointed… but for an artist whose appeal relies on the element of surprise, it’s ironic that Walker’s album is so cliché.