Music: Woe Nelly

Most of what you need to know about Nelly’s world view can be gleaned from listening to his 2000 breakout hit, Country Grammar: “You can find me, in St. Louis rollin’ on dubs/Smokin’ them dubs in clubs, blowin’ up like cocoa puff.” Nelly loves his hometown. Nelly loves pot. Nelly loves Nelly. It’s a pretty narrow vision, but Nelly (real name: Cornell Haynes Jr.) moved 8 million copies of his debut album, and his follow-up, Nellyville (Universal), won’t lag far behind. The secret is the twang. Nelly, like Snoop Dogg, raps in a Southern-inflected singsong so bouncy and joy-filled that he could read Cardinals box scores and the world would bob its collective head.

Nellyville (Nelly’s ever-so-humble nickname for St. Louis, Mo.) provides little reason to think its creator is up to any more than that. Songs like Pimp Juice aren’t about pimping; they just invoke the trope because, sadly, that’s how lazy mainstream rap has got in 2002. Actually, the message of Pimp Juice is uplifting–“Your pimp juice is anything that attracts the opposite sex/It could be money, fame or straight intellect”–as long as you don’t mind being compared to a flesh peddler. Ah, well. Sensitive types won’t take much comfort from Hot in Herre, a summer single that culminates in everyone’s taking off his or her clothes, or Work It, a provocative duet with ‘N Sync’s Justin Timberlake (yes, “it” is what you think it is). The production is passable; the rhymes are emptier than the St. Louis arch. Nellyville wants only to make you dance, and in that it succeeds. But if it’s a single interesting thought you’re after, it’s best to keep on moving. –By Josh Tyrangiel