Bobby Valentino clearly fancies himself as the world’s latest r’n’b star. Even the photographs of young Bobby on his eponymous debut betray a certain sense of self-aggrandisement, an impression which is reinforced as soon as you listen to the vocal histrionics that make up most of this mid-paced collection of soul-lite. The bould Bobby has two vocal styles: he’s either crooning like a would-be Marvin Gaye or coming over all sultry like a wannabe lothario: “After the club hang out with me/Valentino is sure to please/Let’s have another Martini and get to know each other”. Eh, I’ll pass.