Mary J Blige, Growing Pains

It is an apt title: in the course of 16 years and eight albums, Mary J Blige's audience has grown with her, suffered with her, felt every emotion with her. Blige's story appears to have reached its happy ending, and on Growing Pains, her past and present collide. At times, she brims over with exultation: with their handclaps and techno synth riffs, Just Fine and Work That are the most purely joyous songs Blige has put her name to. But her awareness of the bad times runs like a thread through every note she sings, and the album's finest moment comes when she confronts them head on. Roses ranks as one of the best songs of her career: over floating synths and clicking, unsettling beats, Blige upends every romantic cliche she can, her voice hurling the words "flowers and candy" into your ears as if she is throwing crockery around a room. It culminates in a furious soliloquy, Blige daring the listener to remain unmoved. It's a bet she would win every time.