Not worth running to the store for

There's a strange phenomenon happening in rap these days. Eschewing quick, punchy lines for complex vocal structures, rappers have abandoned the art of the one-liner. (I blame Twista, but whatever.) Fortunately, for himself, Atlanta-based Ludacris has no such qualms. \nWith gems like "You can see me on more 24's than Keifer Sutherland," and "Pumping out albums like Reverend Run is pumping out children/ Here's another one," Luda is the Rodney Dangerfield of rap, unafraid of lowbrow, simple pleasures like the one-note joke. Combining that penchant for sometimes hilarious, sometimes provocative rhymes, interesting beats and a menagerie of solid guests, with Release Therapy, Ludacris is sure to maintain his place as one of the most popular rappers around, even if he lacks musical sophistication and courage. \nRelease Therapy runs the gamut of popular modern hip-hop with all of the familiar characters: R. Kelly, Mary J. Blige, Pharrell, Beanie Sigel, Young Jeezy; the list goes on. The subject matter, the beats -- this is by the number stuff. A little gangsta rap here, a little R and B there, a fuzzy N.E.R.D. beat here, a big-picture social conscience there, plenty of braggadocio all around. \nThe album begins with "Warning," which is just that, a nice little reminder that you have indeed purchased/downloaded/purchased and downloaded a Ludacris album - the 5th of its kind - and that you are about to listen to said album. If nothing else, it's reassuring. Next, proceed to the self-evidently gangsta portion of the album, "Grew Up a Screw Up." Hop over to the big single off the album, "Money Maker," a nice soft little club beat with Pharrell's soft crooning in the background. Jump to "End of the Night," a Bobby Valentino-anchored R and B joint about the universal male hope for female accompaniment at the end of one's drunken evening. "Do Your Time" pours some liquor out for some of the fellas "Locked in the box," and "Freedom of Preach" succeeds in closing the album with a socially spiritual -- and slightly political -- vibe. \nNever one to rock the boat musically or lyrically -- and only once jumping into politics when provoked by Bill O'Reilly -- Release Therapy is a showcase for Luda's skills but shows little sign of growth. In the end, the strongest song is "Ultimate Satisfaction," which takes the hook from the popular techno song and loops it into an addicting beat. After Luda is done here, we can bounce and feel fine and dandy and all, but it might take a bigger risk-taker to ultimately satisfy us.