Growing without pain

Given the album title Growing Pains, Mary J. Blige is surprisingly natural on her latest disc, affirming her grown-woman status with positive lyrics that would make Oprah proud. Gone, however, are the days of more daring work with the likes of Jay-Z and Nas — which earned Mary her reputation as queen to Hova's king — replaced instead by tracks with Ludacris, the go-to guy for bland rap verses about curvature of the flesh, and Usher, who's always sure to make the over-35 and under-14 demographics go crazy.\nEven though she's lost contact with emcees over the years, her Rolodex is still full of top-notch producers, who give Growing Pains a modern feel, even if Mary herself refuses to adapt her style. The album starts off strong with three catchy tracks, spearheaded by the triumphant "Work That," where Mary uses the hook "work with what you got" as an anthem for being happy with your body. A reference to her ascent from the streets of Yonkers, N.Y., "Just Fine" is another guilty pleasure that could make even Toby Keith sing along while flossing in his pick-up.\nAfter a strong start, though, Growing Pains quickly loses steam. All the tracks are woven together by slick transitions, which makes the fairly homogeneous record sound even more like a polished chunk of nutrition-free pop sugar. Aside from a couple of standouts, like the Neptunes-produced funk fest "Till The Morning," the last 13 tracks are uneventful.\nLyrically, it doesn't appear Ms. Blige has matured much since middle school. If I had a dime for every time M.J.B. used "sunshine" and "rain" to refer to happiness and sadness on Growing Pains, I'd have enough money to buy the whole album on iTunes. Listen to her colorlessly describe love: "And it feels like joy, and it feels like pain / And it feels like sunshine, and it feels like rain." \nNo, it won't expand your mind, but Growing Pains, to borrow a phrase from Mary herself, is just fine.