He is love and love is he. You are there to be pleased, he to serve. When he says that you and he apart is like ice cream without the cone, this much is clear: he is the ice cream, you are the cone. When he croons "Baby's Home", you had better believe this: "baby" is he himself.
Barry White pulls this off the same way he always has, not with Madonna-esque moxie, but with Superman sincerity. The man has never uttered an insincere word in his life. In the opener here, he challenges a woman who teased him for too long to quit the games and get on with the love. The only teasing White does for the album's remaining hour is the kind that comes with foreplay, which he's prepared to engage in for way more than an hour. In most of the songs, which average around six minutes, he whispers deep baritone somethings for a verse, then breaks into a laid-back croon over jazzy, funky backing tracks dabbed here and there with strings. Slow and sweet, but always funky.
He draws out "There It Is" the furthest of all, offering a full minute of a single bit of plinking percussion, over which he moans, "don't say anything, don't say one word". He hasn't even taken his clothes off, and you've already melted.|
Rovi